Chapter 4

Willow's POV

First, I applied for a visa.

Second, I canceled my ID and wiped my records from the system.

The clerk said all procedures would be completed within two weeks.

As I walked out of the ID office, my phone rang.

It was Caleb calling.

"Willow, where are you? Why aren't you home?" His tone was urgent, barely concealing his anger.

It used to be like this.

Once, I went to the grocery store and didn't notice my phone.

I was only out for forty minutes, but when I returned, I found Caleb had called twenty-seven times.

Seeing me return with grocery bags, he pulled me into his arms, squeezing me so tight I couldn't breathe.

"Willow, if I can't find you, I'll go crazy!"

That Caleb, so anxious and caring about me, could also make room for another woman in his heart. How ironic.

"I just came out for a walk, to clear my head," I tried to make my voice sound normal.

"Stay right there, I'm coming to pick you up." Caleb's voice was tense, "The divorce news just broke, there are reporters everywhere. You're not safe alone."

After hanging up, I suddenly realized. Caleb and Daisy's affair was still trending on social media. Going out alone now indeed made me an easy target for reporters.

Caleb arrived quickly, his Maybach screeching to a halt.

He pushed open the car door and strode over, not even wearing his suit jacket, clearly having dropped everything to rush here.

When he reached me, he instinctively reached out to pull me into his embrace.

His arm lifted halfway, then dropped.

We were outside now.

And we were publicly divorced.

His hand froze in mid-air, eventually just lightly resting on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He lowered his eyes to look at me, a hint of indescribable grievance in his expression, "Willow, I'm just glad you're okay. I was so worried about you."

I looked at his face, and a sharp pang twisted in my chest.

He looked so sincere, so concerned about me.

Just like every other time he couldn't find me.

But I already knew that this concern wasn't just for me anymore.

I lowered my eyes and quietly asked, "Where are we eating?"

Caleb quickly pulled open the car door for me, "I've booked a restaurant. It's a private event, just the two of us tonight, Willow."

The car drove into the private driveway of a French restaurant in the city center.

The entire restaurant had been booked out, the crystal chandeliers glowed softly, and someone played the violin in the corner, the melody lingering beautifully.

Caleb pulled out my chair, personally spread the napkin on my lap, and ordered for me.

When the steak arrived, he took the knife and fork, expertly cut the meat into small pieces, and pushed the plate toward me.

Every time we ate Western food together, he was this thoughtful and attentive.

I looked down at the neatly arranged steak pieces on my plate, my throat tight, unable to swallow a single bite.

Caleb observed my expression, put down his knife and fork, and took my hand, "The divorce is just for show."

"Willow, just bear with it for a few days. Once this is over, we'll remarry immediately."

"My care for Daisy is just for..."

"Just to take care of Oliver's girlfriend for you." I finished his sentence for him, even managing a small smile. "He was always the best to you since you were little. I know. I understand."

Caleb finally exhaled in relief.

He reached out and pinched my cheek, a smile in his voice, "Willow is the most understanding. You'll always be my wife."

He took my hand, lacing our fingers together, his thumb slowly stroking the back of my hand, and whispered, "When we remarry, I'll propose to you again."

My eyelashes trembled.

I remembered the night he proposed three years ago.

Caleb knelt before me and said, "Willow, I will never marry anyone but you. Marry me, and we'll be together forever, okay?"

I was crying so hard I couldn't speak.

The same hands that put a ring on my finger three years ago handed me the divorce decree three years later.

Caleb's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

I clearly saw the tenderness and deep affection in his eyes vanish instantly, replaced by tension.

He answered the phone, "Daisy, what's wrong?"

The restaurant was quiet. Daisy's tearful voice came through the receiver, "There are reporters outside the door, I'm so scared."

Caleb shot up, "Don't be afraid. Lock the door. I'm coming right now."

He hung up and looked down at me.

His eyes still held an apology, but his body was already moving toward the door.

"Willow, Daisy has a situation. I need to go handle it. I'll have the driver come pick you up."

With that, he was out the door.

I sat alone in the empty French restaurant.

A whole table of carefully prepared dishes, barely touched. The waitstaff stood in the distance, their gazes carrying a hint of undisguised pity.

I waited for two hours. The driver never came.

Caleb had forgotten me.

I walked out of the restaurant alone.

Before I even reached the roadside, a group of reporters swarmed me, cameras and microphones practically shoved into my face:

"Ms. Lynn, is it true you're divorcing Mr. Owen?"

"Do you know about Ms. Rance's relationship with Mr. Owen?"

"When did your relationship break down?"

"Is Ms. Rance the reason for your divorce?"