Chapter 2

Seeing my silence, Julian didn't say another word. He calmly put on his suit jacket, his face returning to its usual cold, composed mask.

Before heading out, he grabbed his car keys and spoke to me like he was checking off a to-do list.

"I have a board meeting this afternoon, and a client dinner right after."

"My phone will be on silent. If there's an emergency, call Secretary Vance."

He paused, his eyes lingering on my face.

"If you don't trust me, you can come to the office and check on me."

But he didn't walk over to hug me like he used to. He didn't even wait for my reply. He just closed the door behind him.

His black sedan slowly rolled out of the driveway.

I stood by the window, watching his tail lights fade into the heavy rain.

Suddenly, I realized the distance between us was just like that car. I could never catch up to it again.

Tears fell without warning.

Ever since I found out about him and Chloe, I had turned into a monster.

I wiped him down with rubbing alcohol. I checked his phone, tracked his bank accounts, went through his emails, and stalked his Snapchat. I even made his driver send me his GPS location every single day.

If he was even a minute late, I would interrogate him. Where were you? Who were you with? What did you say?

He explained over and over again. He said that night was a setup, that both he and Chloe had been drugged.

He showed me the security footage, the blood tests, the hotel logs.

But I couldn't hear a single word.

Until the day he pushed the signed divorce papers in front of me.

"Seraphina," he said, sounding incredibly exhausted. "If we keep doing this, we will drive each other crazy."

"The house, the company shares, the savings—I’ll give you seventy percent of everything."

"Let me go. And let yourself go, too."

That night, I locked myself in the bedroom with a bottle of sleeping pills.

When he broke the door down, he was shaking all over.

He held me, his eyes bloodshot, sobbing into my shoulder.

"Don't leave me."

"I was wrong. Punish me however you want."

"But don't use your own life to punish me."

For a long time after that, he never brought up the divorce.

But at some point, his plea of "letting each other go" slowly mutated into something else:

"Chloe can't survive without me."

Outside, the rain poured heavier.

I had left my umbrella right by the door, but I forgot to open it.

For all these years, I had been completely babied by him.

He drove me everywhere. He cut my steak. He put coats on me when it was cold. Even when I woke up thirsty in the middle of the night, there would always be a glass of warm water on my nightstand.

I used to think that love would last forever.

Only today did I realize that no one stands in the same spot waiting for you forever.

Rainwater dripped from my hair.

I couldn't tell if the wetness on my cheeks was the rain or my tears.

Not long after I got home, I broke out in a fever.

In my fever dream, I could hear someone calling my name.

A cool, damp towel was placed on my forehead, replaced again and again.

Then came that familiar, soothing voice.

"Her fever is going down."

"Just a little longer, babe. You’ll be fine."

I tried so hard to open my eyes, wanting to grab the hand holding mine.

But in the next second, a harsh ringtone shattered the dream.

The room was completely empty.

There was no one by the bed.

Only my phone was vibrating violently.

I forced myself to pick it up.

"Ma'am," the voice of the private investigator I hired came through.

"Mr. Julian canceled all his meetings this afternoon."

My heart sank instantly.

"He left the office and drove straight to the Silverwood Wellness Retreat."

"He's been in there for over two hours now."

My grip on the phone tightened.

Silverwood Wellness Retreat.

That was where Chloe was staying.

Julian’s parting words from this morning echoed in my head:

"If you don't trust me, you can come to the office and check on me."

He knew me too well. He knew I would finally believe him this time.

Every other time, I would have rushed to his office to confirm.

But today, I didn't go.

And he lied to me anyway.

The clock on the wall pointed to 6:00 PM.

Usually, he would be home by now.

I didn't call him.

Instead, I opened my drawer, took out the signed divorce papers, and slid my wedding ring off my finger. I put them both into a manila envelope.

This time, he wouldn't have to ask.

I was going to end this marriage myself.