The plush mattress dipped slightly under the weight of someone sitting down. The sound of labored breathing beside her told Olivia Brown that Adam Grant was finally home. Judging by the smell of bourbon on his breath, he must have had a few too many drinks at the corporate gala tonight. Adam was unusually restless—his rough hands were already tugging impatiently at the straps of her silk nightgown. But for the first time in their five years of marriage, Olivia didn’t give in. She gently pushed his hands away and spoke softly: “Adam, I’m tired.” Her voice was calm, but firm. Adam froze for a moment, his breath hitching in surprise. Then, with a low, irritated grunt, he turned over and said nothing more. In the darkness, Olivia blinked back the tears that welled in her eyes, wiping them away before they could fall. She swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing down the tide of frustration and sadness. The truth was, Olivia had known from the very beginning that Adam didn’t love her. Their marriage had never been about love. Years ago, it had been Adam’s grandfather, Jacob Grant, who insisted on the union. Jacob had always been grateful to Olivia’s grandfather, who had saved his life decades ago, and he honored that debt by arranging a marriage between their grandchildren. Adam was the only son of the wealthy and powerful Grant family—a name that carried weight across the entire Pacific Northwest. Olivia, on the other hand, was no one special. She was just a poor girl from a small town, scraping by on scholarships and part-time jobs to get through college. She wouldn’t have even finished her degree if the Grant family hadn’t stepped in and sponsored her education. And when the time came, she married Adam without hesitation. Even though she knew he didn’t care for her, she had no regrets. Not because of the marriage contract, but because she’d fallen in love with him at first sight. From the moment they got married, Olivia threw herself into being the perfect wife. She learned how to cook Adam’s favorite meals, memorized his schedule, and made sure every detail of his life ran smoothly. She believed, deep down, that if she worked hard enough and loved him long enough, he would eventually love her back. But after five years of marriage, Adam’s feelings for her remained as cold and distant as ever. The final blow came just a few weeks ago. That day, Olivia had been feeling particularly low and decided to distract herself by tidying Adam’s study. While dusting the shelves, she accidentally knocked over a small wooden box that he usually kept locked away. As the lid creaked open, her breath caught in her throat. Inside, there were dozens of photographs of Adam and a woman named Hannah Wright—pictures that spanned years, from childhood to adulthood. The most recent one had been taken just last week when Hannah returned to the States. In the photo, Adam stood close to Hannah, his arm casually draped over her shoulder. His usually stoic expression was replaced with something Olivia had never seen before—softness, warmth, and the faintest hint of a smile. Hannah, meanwhile, wore a delicate necklace Olivia immediately recognized: The Desert Star. It was the same necklace Adam had once promised to buy for Olivia as a birthday gift. That was the moment Olivia realized the truth. Adam wasn’t incapable of love—he just didn’t love her. It was also the moment Olivia decided she couldn’t keep living like this. She had to leave him. The next morning, Adam woke up with a pounding headache. He pressed a hand to his temple, his voice hoarse as he asked, “Where’s my hangover cure?” Olivia froze for a moment before responding. The herbal remedy had been something she’d painstakingly learned to make after consulting with an old family recipe. It required hours of preparation—she used to wake up at 3 a.m. just to make sure it was ready for him in time. But lately, she had been too busy consulting with attorneys and planning her exit to bother with such things. “…Oh, I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I forgot.” Adam frowned, the irritation clear on his face. He pulled on his suit jacket, his tone clipped and dismissive as he said, “I won’t be home for dinner tonight. There’s a client meeting.” In the past, Olivia would have fussed over him, gently scolding him to take care of himself and not overwork. But now, she simply nodded, continuing to eat her breakfast without saying a word. Adam barely noticed her indifference. To him, these morning exchanges were just a routine—a formality he tolerated out of obligation. He assumed Olivia’s role as his wife meant she was always there, quietly supporting him in the background, no matter what. Normally, Olivia would have rushed through breakfast so she could help him with his tie, straighten his jacket, and polish his shoes before he left for work. Her own breakfast would go cold on the table, often left uneaten. She even developed chronic stomach issues from neglecting herself like this. But Adam had never noticed. Today, though, she took her time. She finished her meal slowly and deliberately, savoring every bite. She’d made up her mind: she wasn’t going to sacrifice herself for this marriage anymore. For five years, she had lived in a constant state of anxiety, always trying to win Adam’s approval, always hoping for a love that would never come. But now, she was done. It was time to let go of the marriage that had done nothing but drain her of joy.
By the time Olivia finalized the divorce terms with her lawyer, the sun was already setting. Her stomach churned uncomfortably, a sharp, familiar pain she was used to ignoring. Hoping to settle her nerves, she wandered into a newly opened dessert café, absently running her fingers over the stack of legal documents in her lap. That’s when she saw him. Adam. He was walking in with Hannah, her hand playfully tugging on his arm. Though Adam’s expression carried a hint of impatience, his eyes betrayed a warmth and tenderness Olivia hadn’t seen in years. Adam Grant—who couldn’t stand overly sweet foods, who used to wrinkle his nose at the sight of her carefully chosen birthday cakes—was now willingly stepping into a dessert shop, all for Hannah. The sight of them together hit Olivia like a knife to the chest. A sharp, searing pain she couldn’t ignore. She drew in a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around the documents as she tried to steady herself. The waiter had just placed her order on the table—it was a chestnut cake, her favorite—but before she could lift her fork, she heard a sharp voice echo through the café. “What do you mean there’s no more chestnut cake?” It was Hannah. Her tone was loud, entitled, full of irritation. “I came here specifically for that cake!” she snapped, glaring at the waiter with barely concealed contempt. “How can you not have it? Don’t you know who I am?” The waiter tried to remain polite, though his face showed clear discomfort. “I’m very sorry, ma’am,” he explained. “We only use imported ingredients, and we have a limited supply each day. I’m afraid we’ve already sold out.” Hannah scoffed, crossing her arms. “Then make more! I’ll pay ten times the price if I have to. I’m not leaving without it.” The waiter hesitated, looking helpless. Olivia, meanwhile, had quietly picked up her fork and was about to take a bite of her cake when a familiar voice interrupted her. “Excuse me, miss,” Adam said from across the room. Olivia froze, her hand hovering mid-air. “My friend just got back to the U.S.,” Adam continued smoothly, his voice polite but firm. “And it’s her birthday today. She’s been looking forward to that chestnut cake for weeks. Would you mind letting us have it? I’ll pay twenty times the price if necessary.” Olivia’s chest tightened, her breath catching in her throat. Five years of marriage. Five years of sitting across from him at the same table, sharing the same life. And now, here he was, standing just a few feet away, unable to recognize even the back of her head. It was both absurd and heartbreaking. Adam’s request hung in the air, and Olivia slowly looked up. When their eyes met, Adam froze. For a moment, guilt flickered across his face, but he quickly masked it. Olivia, pale and visibly thinner than before, offered him a small, understanding smile. She carefully pushed the plate of chestnut cake toward him, her voice calm and composed. “I understand,” she said softly. “It’s just a birthday celebration for a friend. I get it.” Adam opened his mouth, as though to say something, but before he could speak, Hannah’s voice rang out again, sharp and impatient: “Adam! What are you doing over there?” Olivia ignored Hannah’s interruption, her eyes still on Adam. She reached for the documents in her lap and held them out to him with a steady hand. “By the way,” she said, her tone light, almost casual, “I’ve been looking at this small beach house. I thought it’d be perfect for a little vacation someday.” She smiled faintly. “Consider this cake my thank-you for signing the papers.” Adam frowned slightly, glancing down at the legal documents. Olivia pressed the papers closer. “Oh, and one more thing,” she added with a trace of bitterness. “You still owe me a birthday gift this year.” Adam hesitated, glancing between the cake and the papers. Maybe it was guilt, or maybe it was Hannah’s impatient glare boring into his back, but after a brief pause, he took the pen Olivia had placed on the table and signed his name on the last page. Without another word, he picked up the plate of cake and returned to Hannah, who was waiting with a triumphant smile. Olivia exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping as the tension left her body. Her fingers trembled as she picked up the signed papers, clutching them tightly. It was done. She had finally taken the first step toward leaving Adam behind. But the adrenaline from the encounter left her feeling lightheaded. Olivia stood on shaky legs, her knees weak as she made her way toward the exit. She barely made it to the door before her vision blurred and her body gave out. She collapsed onto the cold pavement just outside the café. Her ears rang, muffling the concerned murmurs of the people around her. She tried to get up, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. The world around her spun, and then everything went black. In the haze of unconsciousness, Olivia vaguely felt herself being lifted. Strong arms carried her, jostling slightly as they rushed to… somewhere. Her mind, foggy and disoriented, drifted toward a familiar thought. It must be Adam, she thought faintly. How inconvenient… ruining his date with Hannah just before the divorce. And with that, she let herself slip further into the dark.
When Olivia woke up in the hospital, it was already hours later. A young woman sitting nearby noticed she was awake and immediately called for a nurse. Olivia’s head felt foggy, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Instinctively, she asked: “Where’s Adam?” The girl paused, blinking in confusion. “Adam? Who’s Adam?” Only then did Olivia realize—it wasn’t Adam who had brought her here. “You fainted outside the dessert café,” the girl explained with a friendly smile. “I was passing by and figured I’d better get you to the hospital.” Olivia hadn’t expected a complete stranger to help her. Feeling embarrassed and grateful, she quickly thanked the girl and reached for her phone, intending to pay her back for covering the medical expenses. But when she saw her phone, its screen was completely shattered. “Don’t worry about it,” the girl said cheerfully. “I live nearby. I’ll give you my contact info—just pay me back once you’ve had your phone fixed.” She scribbled her number on a piece of paper and handed it to Olivia before glancing at her own phone with a start. “Oh no, I’ve gotta go! My mom’s been texting me nonstop to come home!” Before Olivia could say much else, the girl rushed out, leaving behind the scrap of paper with her name: Luna Young. It was such a soft, pretty name. Olivia repeated it quietly to herself with a faint smile. But her fleeting moment of calm disappeared when her eyes caught the time on the bedside clock. It was already 11 p.m. She suddenly remembered something Adam had said years ago, before they got married: “I don’t like women who stay out late.” Those words had stayed with her, shaping her habits for the past five years. Unless she was at an event with Adam, she had made sure to never return home after 8 p.m. But now… now things were different. She lowered her gaze, letting the memory fade. Even so, Olivia got dressed and prepared to leave. Divorce or not, she didn’t want Adam to suspect anything unusual. By the time she got home, the house was dark and quiet, except for one person waiting for her in the living room. Adam. He was sitting there, his expression sharp and disapproving. “Where were you?” he demanded. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?” There was a note of concern in his voice, but it was buried under layers of irritation. “You’re my wife, Olivia. Wandering around in the middle of the night—what were you thinking?” He waited, fully expecting her to apologize as she usually would. But Olivia simply blinked at him, her voice calm as she replied: “You texted me?” “What did you send? My phone’s screen is broken—I couldn’t see anything.” Adam frowned and pulled out his own phone, scrolling to show her the message he had sent when she fainted: “Was it low blood sugar? Go home and rest.” So, he had noticed something was wrong. He had sent her a message. But instead of helping her, he’d been busy spending his evening with someone else. Olivia’s chest tightened, a cold, sinking feeling spreading through her. She forced a smile, but her eyes drifted to his phone screen, where new messages were popping up one after another. They were from Hannah. “Adam, my friends threw me a welcome-back dinner, but they’re insisting I bring someone with me. Can you come?” Olivia lowered her gaze, pretending not to notice as Adam picked up his phone and typed out a reply. The ache in her heart grew sharper, but she kept her expression steady. “Adam,” she said softly, her voice tinged with quiet hope, “can we visit your grandparents tomorrow? They’ve been asking about us.” Adam hesitated, his jaw tightening. The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to feel. Taking a deep breath, he finally muttered: “I’ll let them know. Work’s been really busy… I can’t make it.” Olivia’s heart sank, but she quickly masked her disappointment with a practiced smile. “That’s okay,” she said gently, always the one to smooth things over. Adam seemed relieved, even grateful for her understanding. He lifted a hand toward her, as if to brush aside a stray strand of her hair, but Olivia instinctively stepped back, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in mid-air before he awkwardly pulled it back. Clearing his throat, he said quietly: “I’ll have the housekeeper handle your phone tomorrow. Next time… next time, I’ll go with you to visit them.” Next time? No, Adam. There won’t be a next time. But Olivia just nodded, silently reaching to loosen his tie as she had done so many times before. Her hands trembled slightly, but she kept her movements steady. “You know,” Adam said suddenly, his voice low, “that house contract you signed today—bring it here. Let me double-check it. You’re inexperienced with this stuff. I don’t want you getting scammed.” Her hands froze mid-motion, her heart pounding hard in her chest. She could feel her pulse in her fingertips, the nervous tremor betraying her calm exterior. Adam noticed her hesitation and opened his mouth to ask something, but before he could, his phone buzzed loudly. The screen lit up with Hannah’s name. “Adam, I think I caught a cold. Can you come help me figure out this hospital stuff? I don’t remember how any of it works here.” Her playful, whiny tone carried through the speaker as Adam read the message. His brow furrowed, but he quickly stood, glancing at Olivia with an apologetic look. “Hannah’s sick,” he explained. “Her family’s all overseas. I should go help her.” For a moment, he lingered, as though waiting for some kind of reaction. But Olivia simply smiled, her voice warm and even. “Go ahead,” she said. “A girl all alone with no family nearby… it’s only right someone helps her.” Olivia barely slept that night. Her stomach pain had worsened, keeping her awake until dawn. By morning, the housekeeper had already delivered a replacement phone, and Olivia quickly sent Luna the payment for her hospital expenses. After tidying up, she packed a small gift and left the house to visit Adam’s grandparents. They had always been kind to her, urging her and Adam to cherish their marriage. They had even given her the family’s heirloom jade bracelet as a symbol of trust and blessing. This time, Olivia planned to quietly return it. But on the way, her driver accidentally hit someone with the car. To her shock, it was Luna—the same girl who had helped her just the day before.
“…I’m so sorry. I didn’t expect my driver to be so careless…” Luna’s injuries weren’t serious—just a few scrapes and bruises. She had insisted on a quick bandage and nothing more, but Olivia wouldn’t hear of it. She firmly pressed for a full medical examination. “Seriously, I told you I’m fine,” Luna protested, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing—” Her words faltered when she turned to look at Olivia, whose face had gone ghostly pale. Luna’s expression tightened with alarm. “Olivia… is it your stomach again?!” Olivia’s condition had worsened. Her chronic stomach issues had reached a critical point, and the doctor was stern as he delivered his instructions. “You need to be admitted immediately,” he said. “We’ll monitor your condition and decide whether surgery is necessary.” Under normal circumstances, this was something you’d call family about. But Olivia’s family lived hundreds of miles away, and her marriage to Adam had left her isolated. His social circle, his status—it had all created invisible walls that kept her from forming close friendships in the city. Left with no choice, she called Adam. Ten times. Not a single call went through. Of course, she thought bitterly. He’s with Hannah. Probably too busy to even glance at his phone. She lowered the phone, her fingers tightening around it. I shouldn’t have called so many times. I should’ve known better. “Your husband’s not coming, is he?” Luna, who had been sitting nearby, furrowed her brows, her frustration evident on her face. She hesitated, as though holding back harsher words, but the look in her eyes made it clear she was angrier than Olivia herself. Olivia, on the other hand, seemed calm. She set the phone down and, with a faint smile, slipped the wedding ring off her finger. “We’re almost divorced,” she said softly. “Not being able to reach him… well, that’s to be expected.” Luna fell silent, though her frown deepened. It was the doctor who spoke next, his tone blunt but not unkind. “You’re still wearing the ring, so I assume you’re in the waiting period before the divorce is finalized? Once you get in touch with him, make sure he comes to sign the paperwork.” Olivia forced a small, polite smile, but her mind was elsewhere. Five years of marriage. Five years of sacrifices. And for what? She thought about all the ways she had tried to take care of Adam. How she had learned to cook his favorite meals, only to ruin her own health by skipping meals herself. How she’d studied tirelessly to fit into his world, mingling with the wives of CEOs and senators, only for Adam to take his secretary—or worse, Hannah—to every gala. She thought about the time she had spent hours baking him a birthday cake, only for Adam to wrinkle his nose and throw it in the trash. “I hate cake,” he’d said coldly. Her stomach issues had been plaguing her for four years now. Adam hadn’t even noticed. And now, sitting in this sterile hospital room, Olivia couldn’t think of a single moment where Adam had made her feel cared for. Not one. Adam wasn’t coming. After a long silence, Luna spoke up, her voice cutting through Olivia’s thoughts. “I’ll sign for her,” she said to the doctor. The doctor raised an eyebrow. “You’re her friend?” “Yes,” Luna said firmly. The doctor nodded, his expression softening with quiet sympathy. “Honestly, that’s probably for the best. If her husband can’t even be reached when she’s this sick, he’s not much use anyway. Having a friend by her side is worth more than a husband like that.” Luna smiled at Olivia, her confidence unwavering. “Don’t worry. I’ll stay with you.” Luna worked remotely as a freelance writer, so she had the flexibility to balance work while keeping an eye on Olivia. Between her cheerful presence and easygoing nature, she was a comforting distraction from the ache in Olivia’s chest. It wasn’t until three days later that Adam finally realized Olivia was in the hospital. He arrived in a hurry, his face a mix of worry and irritation. But the first words out of his mouth were sharp, cutting straight to the point: “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” The accusatory tone hung in the air, and Adam seemed to realize his mistake. He cleared his throat and softened his voice, adding, “You should’ve called me. I could’ve arranged for a private doctor. There’s no reason for you to be in a public hospital. What if the press finds out? It could damage the company’s image.” Olivia stared at him, stunned by the sheer absurdity of his words. For a moment, she thought about explaining. About telling him how many times she had called, how she had waited and waited, only to be met with silence. But instead, she let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Weren’t you busy taking care of Hannah?” she said, her voice calm but laced with bitterness. “And the company’s been keeping you so busy lately. I didn’t want to add to your stress.” Adam’s expression shifted. A flicker of guilt crossed his features as he reached out, his calloused hand covering hers. But as his thumb brushed her skin, he froze. His eyes fell to her left hand. “You took off your ring?” he asked, his voice low, almost disbelieving.
Adam’s expression darkened, his voice carrying a sharp edge that made Olivia’s stomach twist with unease. Perhaps she didn’t even realize it herself, but deep down, she was terrified of her husband. Her lips parted as if to speak, but the excuses she had rehearsed in her mind refused to come out. The tense, suffocating silence was broken by Luna, who walked into the hospital room carrying a bowl of freshly washed fruit. Her cheerful voice shattered the awkward atmosphere like a hammer on glass. “Oh, Mr. Grant!” she said brightly. “Olivia’s been on IV drips for days now, and her hands have been swelling a lot. The doctor made her take off her ring.” She lied so smoothly, not even blinking, as she pulled a small ring box from her bag and waved it in Adam’s direction. “And who’s this?” Adam’s eyes shifted sharply from Luna to Olivia, his tone clipped and demanding. Olivia forced herself to suppress the knot of anxiety in her chest and managed a weak, strained smile. “She’s my friend,” Olivia said softly. “She’s been taking care of me these past few days.” Adam’s brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of disdain crossing his face. His posture, his expression—it all exuded an air of quiet arrogance. “I thought,” he said slowly, his tone dripping with condescension, “that after all these years, you would’ve learned how to make friends more… appropriate to our circle.” He stopped himself before saying more, his gaze lingering on Olivia’s pale, tired face. For once, he swallowed his words. “Never mind. We’ll talk when you’re feeling better,” he said finally, his tone softening just a fraction. “I’ll pick you up when you’re discharged.” But Olivia knew he wouldn’t come. He had said the same thing so many times before, only to cancel at the last minute, always with some excuse about work or another obligation. It was a lie for fools, an empty promise meant to pacify. And while Olivia was no fool, she had long since grown used to his indifference. As Adam walked out the door, his tall figure disappearing down the hallway, Olivia and Luna both exhaled deeply, as if they had been holding their breaths the entire time. But they didn’t get a moment to recover before a voice—sharp, mocking, and unmistakably hostile—echoed through the room. “So, you’re the little country girl everyone’s been talking about. Olivia, isn’t it?” Hannah strutted into the hospital room, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor with every step. She pulled off her oversized designer sunglasses, her cat-like eyes scanning Olivia from head to toe with an expression of thinly veiled contempt. “Hmm,” she scoffed, tilting her head. “Not much to look at, are you? I don’t see what the fuss is about.” “If I were you,” Hannah continued with a smirk, “I’d hurry up and divorce Adam. Who knows—you might get lucky and walk away with a decent settlement while he’s still feeling generous.” She let out a mocking laugh, her voice dripping with cruelty. “Oh, but then again, women like you probably know all the tricks, don’t you? I heard Adam bought you a house recently. Impressive, really. You’ve got quite the strategy, don’t you, sweetheart?” Luna’s face turned bright red with anger. She opened her mouth to fire back, but Olivia stopped her with a single glance—calm, composed, but with a storm brewing beneath the surface. “What’s your relationship with Adam?” Olivia asked quietly. The question was simple, but it cut through the air like a blade. Olivia knew how foolish it sounded—she already knew the answer. The looks, the whispers, the way Hannah paraded herself around—it was all painfully obvious. But she needed to hear it. She needed the confirmation, the final push to let go of this five-year marriage that had been built on nothing but her own one-sided devotion. Hannah’s laugh was sharp, biting. She tilted her head, her expression equal parts amused and patronizing. “Are you serious?” It was Luna who spoke next, her voice laced with sarcasm and venom. “Come on, Hannah. Don’t play dumb,” she said, her smile bright and biting. She reached up to touch the necklace around her neck—a necklace Olivia instantly recognized. It had been her birthday gift from Adam, something he had personally chosen for her. “See this?” Luna said, her voice dripping with mockery. “It used to belong to Olivia. Adam gave it to her for her birthday. But the moment I said I liked it, he gave it to me instead. Said it was a ‘fair trade’ for that jade bracelet you’re wearing—you know, the one from the Grant family heirloom collection?” She leaned forward slightly, her smile widening, her eyes alight with cruel humor. “So, what do you think? What’s my relationship with Adam?” The room went silent. After a long pause, Olivia let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Her lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. “It won’t be much longer,” she said quietly. “You’ll get what you want soon enough, Ms. Wright. I’ll be filing the divorce papers shortly. Consider it my parting gift.” Hannah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but after a moment, she shrugged, clearly unimpressed. “You’d better,” she said with a sneer. Then, wrinkling her nose in exaggerated disgust, she turned and strode out of the room, her heels clicking loudly against the floor. Luna watched her go, her fists clenched in anger. The moment the door closed, she let out a string of curses, punching the nearest pillow with frustration. “This is unbelievable!” she fumed. “A mistress barging in here to taunt you?! And Adam—what’s his deal? Talking like you’re some… some embarrassment to him? And that whole ‘appropriate friends’ crap—what the hell does that even mean?” But her outburst faded quickly. As much as she wanted to march after Hannah and give her a piece of her mind, she knew better. The Grant family’s power and influence were nothing to take lightly, and Luna had no intention of making things harder for Olivia. Olivia, for her part, simply smiled faintly, her eyes distant. She didn’t want to cause trouble for Luna—or anyone else. She had endured enough.
The day Olivia was discharged from the hospital, the weather was rare for California—gray skies and steady rain. Even more surprising, Adam actually kept his word. He was waiting for her at the hospital entrance. Hannah, of course, was already in the passenger seat, casually touching up her lipstick in the mirror. Luna, unable to hold back her sarcasm, crossed her arms and said in a sweetly biting tone: “Olivia, you get carsick, right? Why don’t you sit up front where it’s more comfortable? Ms. Wright, maybe you could join me in the backseat instead?” Hannah’s laugh was soft and syrupy, her red-painted lips curving into a coquettish pout. She made a half-hearted motion to shift, but Adam quickly stepped in, his voice firm and protective: “Hannah gets carsick too. Plus, she’s used to sitting in the front. It’s raining, and shuffling around would just make things more complicated. Olivia, you don’t mind sitting in the back, do you?” Adam’s favoritism was as blatant as ever. When it came to Hannah, he didn’t even bother to hide it. Before Luna could escalate things, Olivia gently placed a hand on her arm, stopping her. Without a word, she climbed into the backseat. The ride was quiet. Luna, furiously typing on her phone, sent Olivia a string of angry texts about Adam and Hannah. Olivia, however, was lost in her own thoughts, silently counting down the days. Seven more days of the divorce waiting period. Just seven more days. I can get through this. But Hannah seemed determined to make even that short ride unbearable. She answered a call halfway through, and her voice instantly turned trembling and tearful: “Adam! It’s my brother… My brother just got back to the States, and now his heart condition’s acting up again!” Her voice cracked, and she sniffled dramatically. “His girlfriend just called me—she said his face turned blue! Adam, can you take me to the hospital? Please?” In the rearview mirror, Olivia could see Adam hesitate, his expression conflicted. Still, she already knew what he was going to say. Sure enough, he cleared his throat, his voice awkward as he spoke: “…Olivia, you and your friend should get out here.” “Life and death situations can’t wait. I need to take Hannah to the hospital.” Hannah. Always Hannah. The moment her name came up, Adam lost all sense of reason, turning into a man who would blindly drop everything for her. Olivia forced a small, fragile smile. The lump in her throat made it hard to speak, so she simply nodded. She took the umbrella Adam handed her, grabbed Luna’s arm, and stepped out of the car. The tires splashed muddy rainwater onto their legs as the car sped off, leaving them standing on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold drizzle. “…I’m sorry, Luna,” Olivia said, her voice laced with a bitter laugh. “I didn’t think it’d turn out like this.” She called the Grant family’s driver to come pick them up, but with the rain and traffic, it would take at least thirty minutes for him to arrive. “Guess you’re stuck getting drenched with me for a while.” As luck would have it, while the two of them huddled under the umbrella, a sleek black car pulled up beside them. The window rolled down, revealing Aria, one of Olivia’s acquaintances from a wealthy family. Aria blinked, clearly surprised to see them standing miserably in the rain. “Olivia? What on earth happened to you two?” After hearing the story of how Adam had ditched them to take Hannah’s brother to the hospital, Aria let out a scoff, her lips curling in disdain. “Hannah’s brother? Please. That idiot doesn’t have a heart condition—he’s as healthy as a horse.” Aria smirked, her tone dripping with mockery. “Besides, even if he did, wouldn’t calling an ambulance be faster than relying on Adam’s terrible driving?” She went on to explain that Hannah’s brother had pulled the “heart condition” stunt countless times as a kid, using it to prank their circle of friends. After one too many tricks, the group had retaliated by beating him up. Only then did he tearfully confess that he’d been faking it all along. “We’ve all known each other since we were kids,” Aria said with a knowing smirk. “Adam knows the truth perfectly well. He’s just an idiot when it comes to Hannah.” Her gaze softened as she looked at Olivia, sympathy flickering in her eyes. When they arrived at the Grant family’s estate, Aria gave Olivia a sly smile and added: “Let me know when the divorce goes through—I’ll take you out for champagne to celebrate.” She waved as Olivia stepped out of the car, then called out one last remark with a teasing grin: “And next time, pick a better guy, will you? Honestly, I remember Adam as a snot-nosed kid with his pants falling down. If you stay single, hit me up—I’ve got some cute friends I can introduce you to.” When Adam returned home that evening, he was greeted by the sight of suitcases neatly packed and stacked by the door. His brows furrowed as he stepped inside. “Where are you going?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. Olivia was busy overseeing the movers as they carried out the last of her belongings. She didn’t even look up when Adam entered, her focus entirely on her tasks. Calmly, she replied with the excuse she’d prepared in advance: “The house you ‘bought’ for me is ready. I’m sending my things there early, and I thought I’d take the chance to go on a little vacation.” Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “By the way… how’s Ms. Wright’s brother? Shouldn’t you still be at the hospital?” Adam cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. He muttered something about work and quickly retreated to his study. Olivia watched him go, her gaze cool and detached. The faintest flicker of amusement crossed her face as she turned back to her phone. A new message notification popped up—a photo, sent anonymously. The image showed Hannah clinging to Adam’s arm, her head tilted back in laughter. Adam was smiling too, his lips curved with warmth. A smear of chestnut-colored frosting lingered at the corner of his mouth, evidence of the cake they had clearly shared. Olivia stared at the photo for a long moment. She had seen this scene countless times before—Hannah’s possessive grip, Adam’s indulgent smile. No matter how many times she saw it, it never hurt any less.
In the end, Olivia returned to the old Grant family estate by herself. When Jacob and Grace saw her, thinner than ever, they immediately fussed over her with endless questions and heartfelt concern. Grace, Adam’s grandmother, was so angry that she pounded the armrest of the sofa, her voice trembling with frustration. “That ungrateful grandson of mine! Olivia, don’t you worry—his grandpa will make sure he pays for this. I’ll have him kneel on a washboard if I have to!” Though both of them were older now and far less robust than they had been in their younger years, their care for Olivia had not wavered in the slightest. Olivia felt a lump rise in her throat, her nose stinging with the urge to cry. But she held back the tears, forcing a warm, obedient smile onto her face. If there was anything left in this marriage that Olivia still cherished, it was these two people. She had come to Sea City nearly a decade ago, and ever since college, the elderly couple had treated her like family, supporting her as if she were their own granddaughter. But now, their health was failing, and with the younger generation busy running the family’s business empire, Olivia was the only one who visited them regularly. While they napped that afternoon, Olivia found an excuse to quietly return the jade bracelet Grace had gifted her back to its rightful place. She also went into the kitchen herself, handing over her carefully written notes on health supplements and recipes to the housekeeper. This was the last thing she could do for them. When she was about to leave, Grace held her hand tightly, her eyes filled with concern. “Take care of yourself, Olivia. Don’t just spend all your energy looking after Adam.” Olivia smiled and nodded, but just as she was about to step out, a familiar voice froze her in place. “Grandpa, Grandma—I’ve brought Hannah to see you.” Adam’s voice cut through the warm atmosphere like a knife. He hadn’t expected to see Olivia standing there, and for a moment, his expression faltered, an awkward look crossing his face. “Oh… you’re here too,” he said, avoiding her gaze. The once harmonious room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Olivia’s heart sank, but she kept the perfect smile on her face. She couldn’t let the elderly couple find out about Adam’s affair—not when the shock might affect their health. She couldn’t even imagine the consequences. So, swallowing her bitterness, Olivia stepped forward, slipping her arm through Adam’s as if nothing were wrong. She smiled warmly, assuming her role as the gracious hostess, welcoming their “guest.” Hannah, of course, toned down her usual arrogance in front of the elders, but she still couldn’t resist rolling her eyes at Olivia when no one was looking. Since Hannah was a guest, Olivia had no choice but to stay for dinner that evening. The grandparents weren’t particularly close to Hannah, who was supposedly the granddaughter of an old family friend, but they were polite enough. Hannah, with her sugary sweet words, managed to earn their mild approval. That was, until she “accidentally” knocked over the bowl of soup Olivia had been holding. The bowl tipped, and the steaming hot soup spilled onto Olivia’s hand and wrist, scalding her pale skin bright red. The pain was so intense that her vision blurred for a moment. Hannah’s hand had been splashed with a few drops of soup as well, and she immediately started whimpering, tears welling up in her eyes as she turned to Adam. “It hurts so much, Adam!” she sniffled, clutching his arm for comfort. Jacob’s face darkened as he watched his favorite grandson, seemingly oblivious, rush to Hannah’s side to help her run her hand under cold water. Meanwhile, Olivia sat quietly, her hand trembling from the pain, trying not to cry. Jacob and Grace had built the Grant family empire from the ground up, enduring countless hardships along the way. They weren’t fools, and Hannah’s obvious stunt didn’t escape their notice. The soup Olivia had been carrying wasn’t just any soup—it was a carefully prepared, nourishing dish meant for Jacob’s health. She had personally overseen its preparation, hoping to encourage him to eat more. She hadn’t expected Hannah to pull something like this. Grace placed a calming hand on Jacob’s arm, silently signaling him to stay composed. She then called for the housekeeper to bring ointment for Olivia’s burn. Her tone, however, was icy as she turned to Hannah. “All right, that’s enough for today.” Grace’s voice carried a quiet authority. “Have the driver take Ms. Wright home. This is a family matter, and it’s not appropriate for outsiders to get involved.” “Kneel!” Jacob’s cane struck the floor with a sharp thud, his voice booming with fury. “Adam, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Is this how we raised you? Is this what the Grant family stands for?” His face red with anger, Jacob glared at Adam, trembling with rage. “I told you to take care of Olivia. And this is how you treat her?” Grace sat beside Olivia, gently blowing on her burned hand, her eyes red with unshed tears. Adam stood there, stiff and silent, as Jacob looked ready to strike him. “Grandpa, please don’t get upset,” Olivia said softly, stepping forward to steady the old man. “Adam’s usually very kind to me. Today… well, he was just worried about being a good host to Ms. Wright.” Her voice was calm, soothing, as she patted Jacob’s back, helping him catch his breath. It took some time, but eventually, his anger subsided, replaced by a heavy sigh. “Olivia, you’re too good for your own good,” Jacob said, his tone laced with regret. “If that boy pulls a stunt like this again, you come straight to me. I’ll make sure he regrets it.” “How’s your hand?” The question came unexpectedly as they sat in the car, the air between them thick with tension. For once, Adam broke the silence. “It’s fine,” Olivia replied curtly, her tone distant. “You shouldn’t take what happened today to heart,” Adam added, his voice hesitant. “Hannah… she didn’t mean it. She was sitting right next to me, and I just—reacted instinctively…” Olivia was too tired to care. The lingering pain from her surgery, her chronic stomach issues, and now the burn on her hand—it was all too much. She was utterly exhausted, physically and emotionally. “Adam,” she interrupted, her voice weary. “I’m really tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
With the company matters finally settled, Adam had more free time on his hands. These days, he stayed at home under the pretense of “taking care of Olivia.” For Olivia, his sudden presence was more awkward than comforting. In their five years of marriage, Adam had never spent so much time with her. The looming thought of the divorce cooling-off period only made her want to avoid him even more. “I felt bad about what happened to your birthday gift last time,” Adam said one afternoon, his tone carrying a hint of apology. “So I had my assistant order a custom set of jewelry for you.” It was obvious that Jacob and Grace’s recent scolding had left Adam feeling guilty, and now he was trying to use jewelry as a way to make amends. But Olivia had never cared about material things. The sapphire necklace sparkled under the chandelier, its deep blue radiance as dazzling as the ocean. Olivia, however, lowered her gaze, hiding the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. She didn’t even like blue. Yet over the years, the few gifts Adam had given her were always blue. Because blue was Hannah’s favorite color. In every photo Olivia had seen, Hannah was dressed in blue—blue dresses, blue jewelry, blue accents everywhere. Olivia forced a small smile, glancing at her husband, who now stood in awkward silence. A bitter ache swelled in her chest. Adam was always like this around her—distant, formal, guarded. In the past, Olivia had tried to convince herself that Adam was just naturally reserved, that he treated everyone this way. But after seeing the way he acted around someone he truly cared about, she couldn’t lie to herself anymore. “…Tomorrow, wear this jewelry and come to the gala with me,” Adam finally said, the words seemingly dragged out of him. There was a hint of reluctance in his eyes. Of course. If it weren’t for Jacob’s repeated admonishments, Olivia wouldn’t have been invited to this gala at all. To Adam, Olivia was someone who didn’t belong in the spotlight. She stared at him for a long moment before nodding. This will be the last time, she thought to herself. She needed to see if her husband could keep just one promise to her. But in the end, Adam broke his promise again. The phone call came hours before the event. Adam’s voice on the other end sounded frantic. “Hannah fell down the stairs and twisted her ankle,” he said. “I need to take her to the hospital.” There was a pause, then the hurried conclusion: “You go to the gala by yourself.” Before Olivia could respond, the call ended. She stared at the mirror, her reflection flawless, her makeup immaculate. But her heart felt cold and numb. The first time she was to attend a gala as Adam’s wife, and he abandoned her to go to the hospital for Hannah’s sprained ankle. He knew, of course, what people would say. He knew how awkward it would be for her to attend alone, how the whispers about their marriage would spread like wildfire. But none of that mattered—not compared to Hannah’s minor injury. The makeup artists exchanged uncertain glances. One of them finally worked up the courage to ask, “Mrs. Grant… should we stop here?” Even they knew how humiliating it was for her to show up alone to an event like this. Olivia let out a soft, humorless laugh, her lips curving into a faintly mocking smile. But her voice remained calm. “Continue.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Luna. “Everything going smoothly? Are you settling into the new place?” Luna’s reply came almost instantly. She reassured Olivia that everything was ready and waiting for the divorce cooling-off period to end. At the gala, Olivia was surrounded by a small group of women—socialites and wives who were familiar with her situation. They treated her kindly, offering sympathy rather than judgment. “Forget about Adam for tonight,” one of the women said, giving her a playful wink. “Since you’re here, you might as well enjoy yourself.” She gestured toward the lavish display of desserts. “The pastries are amazing—you’ll love them.” Olivia smiled politely and sipped her grape juice. Across the room, she caught sight of Aria, who raised her glass in a silent toast. Aria sauntered over, her lips curling into a mischievous smile. “So,” she said lightly, “have you decided?” Olivia nodded, her expression calm as she clinked her glass against Aria’s. “The rights to Fallen Angel are yours,” Olivia said evenly. “But the price…” “Don’t worry,” Aria interrupted with a radiant grin. “The price is negotiable. Consider it my little gift to celebrate your divorce from that idiot Adam.” Adam didn’t come home for four or five days after the gala. He was still busy “taking care of” Hannah. Olivia didn’t mind. His absence gave her room to breathe. On the day before the divorce cooling-off period ended, Olivia received the agreed-upon $500,000 from the sale of the copyright. She spent the day quietly packing her belongings and leaving the cold, lifeless house behind. She didn’t take anything Adam had given her—not the jewelry, not the clothes, not even the house itself. As her taxi pulled away from the estate, it passed by Adam’s black car. For a brief moment, their vehicles crossed paths. Olivia picked up her phone and sent the text she had written earlier. “Adam, today marks the end of the divorce cooling-off period. I’ve already moved out of the house.” “I originally wanted to tell you this in person, but since you’re busy taking care of Hannah, I figured this method was more convenient.” “The divorce papers are on the coffee table in the living room. Don’t worry—I didn’t take anything from the Grant family. I only packed my clothes and left with nothing else.”
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