Chapter 5

Chloe Evans POV

Rachel's eyes were rimmed with red, her voice trembling. "Did I... interrupt something?"

Zachary shoved me away almost by instinct:

"Rachel, don't go! Let me explain—it's not what you think!"

He pushed so hard that I was caught completely off guard, tumbling right off the edge of the bed.

The back of my head struck the sharp corner of the nightstand with a sickening thud.

With a buzzing hum ringing in my ears, warm liquid immediately trickled down my neck.

"Then I won't bother you two," Rachel sobbed, covering her face as she ran away.

"Rachel!"

Zachary bolted after her, never once looking down at me lying on the floor.

I lay on the icy floor, blood smearing across half of my face as my vision began to darken.

A laugh suddenly escaped my lips. But as I laughed, tears mingled with blood and streamed down.

By the time a nurse found me, I had already passed out again from excessive blood loss.

Right before I lost consciousness completely, I heard the nurse screaming shrilly, "Head trauma! Get a doctor, quick!"

And the man who had promised he would stay never came back.

I had stitches on my head and spent a few more days in the hospital bed.

Zachary didn't show up once.

I guessed he was probably busy placating Rachel, so I had the sense not to call or text him even once.

On the day I was discharged, the butler called to ask about the arrangements for Mr. Hayes's birthday banquet.

Clutching my phone, I stayed silent for a long time.

In previous years, Zachary's birthdays—from the menu and floral arrangements to the guest list—had all been handled by me alone.

The Hayes family seemed prestigious and grand on the outside, but it was actually as cold as an icehouse.

His parents couldn't even remember that their own son was allergic to mangoes, ordering cakes with mango slices every single year.

The first time I spent his birthday with him, I caught him hiding on the terrace secretly popping allergy pills.

"Why don't you just tell them?" My heart had ached for him back then.

"It's pointless," he had said indifferently. "The only thing they care about is financial reports."

Ever since that year, I took over all of his birthday banquets.

Everything was curated to his tastes so he would never have to face a table full of food he hated.

"Mrs. Hayes? Are you still there?" the butler prompted on the other end.

Snapping back to reality, I took a deep breath. "I'll handle it."

This would be the last time.

Once we divorced, there would naturally be another woman to organize his birthdays.

I prepared everything step by step as usual, but this time, I summoned the butler before me and gave instructions with meticulous detail:

"Order a chestnut-flavored cake. Not a single trace of mango."

"Use white hydrangeas for the flowers. Red roses annoy him."

"Cross rum off the wine list. It gives him headaches."

"Remember all of this. When you organize it in the future, don't make any mistakes."

The butler blinked in surprise. "Won't you be handling it in the future, ma'am?"

I lowered my gaze and offered no answer.

I wouldn't even be Mrs. Hayes anymore; what right would I have to host his birthday?

On the night of the banquet, the venue was decorated with breathtaking luxury.

Dressed in a misty-blue evening gown, I greeted guests at the entrance, only to see Zachary walk in from afar with Rachel Vance on his arm.

Rachel wore a pink tulle dress, clinging completely to Zachary's arm.

I understood. It seemed Rachel had already been coaxed back into high spirits.

All night long, Zachary's eyes never left Rachel for a second.

When her hem was ruffled by the breeze, he immediately gestured for someone to adjust it;

when she tasted a dish she loved and her eyes curved into crescent moons, he smiled right along with her—wearing a gentle expression I had never seen before.

Throughout the entire evening, he didn't spare me a single glance.

I quietly stood in the corner tending to guests, looking no different from a butler.

When it came time to open presents, the guests presented nothing but lavish, exorbitant gifts.

The bottle of rare, out-of-print whiskey I had gifted was brought out by the butler on a silver tray.

"Mrs. Hayes has exquisite taste! This vintage is nearly impossible to find!"

"It suits Mr. Hayes's sophisticated aura perfectly!"

"No one understands Mr. Hayes better than Mrs. Hayes!"

Zachary glanced at me, clearly satisfied, and muttered a lukewarm, "Thank you."

Yet when it was Rachel Vance's turn to present her gift, the room suddenly fell dead silent.

It was a handmade tie with crooked, uneven stitching that anyone could tell was made by a total beginner.