“Ms. Chase, are you sure you want to erase all traces of yourself in the country? Once erased, neither your friends here nor Mr. Whitman will be able to find you,” a young man said respectfully. Yvonne Chase fell silent for a moment before nodding softly, responding with her habitual gesture, “Yeah, I’m sure. Just do it.” As her hand fell, she remembered that she had regained her hearing just that day. After suffering a high fever as a child that left her deaf, Yvonne had spent years undergoing treatment. Just yesterday, she had undergone her final surgery, and now her hearing was back, and she could speak in broken phrases. “Alright, Ms. Chase. It’ll take about a week to handle everything. Please be patient.” “Okay, I want a car ready at the back door at 1 AM, seven days from now,” she instructed. “Understood.” “Tell my grandfather I agree to the marriage with the Kingsley family. I’ll get married as soon as I get home,” Yvonne spoke slowly, her voice soft. Despite her upbeat tone, there was a heaviness in the air that made it feel far from cheerful. The young man hesitated. “Ms. Chase…” “Just do it.” “Understood.” The live stream on her phone continued to roll. Carl sat in front of the camera, dressed impeccably in a suit. “The Whitman Group’s suburban amusement park project, Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland, is officially underway.” “Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland covers an area twice the size of Cloudia City’s Disneyland. It features not only entertainment options for the general public but also includes activities designed for people with disabilities, all supported by top-tier facilities developed by leading teams.” “Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland is specifically designed for the hearing impaired. This is my engagement gift to my fiancée, Yvonne Chase.” Flashes from cameras lit up the room. Everyone watching the livestream, men and women alike, burned with jealousy. Yvonne Chase had it all. “Mr. Whitman and Ms. Chase truly embody a fairy-tale romance.” “I heard Ms. Chase is hearing impaired, and the Whitman family disapproved of the marriage, but Mr. Whitman insisted. He even gave up his inheritance to strike out on his own.” “Mr. Whitman’s love is truly inspiring.” “Absolutely! Congratulations to Mr. Whitman on his engagement!” “Thank you for your well wishes.” Carl caught the gaze of a female reporter in the front row, standing up as he did. The smile on the reporter’s face deepened a bit. Yvonne watched as the camera froze on Carl’s face, a face that had once captivated her. But she then took off the engagement ring and tossed it into a gift box. Pulling out her phone, she snapped a picture of the box and sent it to Carl. She typed: [This is a gift for you—our seventeen-year anniversary.] Carl replied instantly: [Yvonne, you’re the best! I’ll check it as soon as I get home.] [Nope, you have to wait until the anniversary day, seven days from now!!!!] Yvonne added a flurry of exclamation marks. [Okay, I’ll do as you say. I’ll wait to open it in seven days.] The seventeenth anniversary was a day they had long anticipated, the day they planned to get their marriage license. Carl had dreamed of this moment, and to convince his mother, he had camped out in front of Whitman Manor for an entire day and night, falling ill with a fever before his mother finally relented. Yvonne set her phone down and turned to look at the gifts piled on her floor-to-ceiling cabinet. There were a thousand origami cranes Carl had folded for her, a childhood teddy bear, raw gemstones he had mined himself, and millions of dollars worth of jewelry. In the center was Carl’s ID. Yvonne was the kind of person who took her time to warm up to things; she didn’t really believe in slow-burning love stories. Her parents had once been an enviable couple, marrying out of love. But things took a dark turn when her father plotted against her mother for the sake of his mistress. In a fit of rage, her mother struck back, leading to a tragic end. Ultimately, her mother died in prison, and on her deathbed, she told Yvonne, “Sweetheart, the most untrustworthy beings in this world are men.” After her parents’ deaths, Yvonne was sent to live with her father’s friend, Oliver Whitman, during a time when her grandfather’s power was shaky. It was there that she met Carl, Oliver’s only son. For a long time, Yvonne believed she would never trust in love. The trauma of her parents’ relationship, combined with her disabilities, made her reluctant to engage with the outside world. But Carl offered her so much, showering her with love and attention. After a particularly tough period in her childhood, where she struggled with her health and could barely keep food down, Carl dedicated himself to helping her regain her strength. He sought out an elderly doctor and learned the art of medicinal cuisine, mastering 108 recipes over the course of a year. His hands were calloused from the effort, but he became a master in the kitchen, preparing a different dish for Yvonne each day. In response to Yvonne’s wish to have her name written in the highest place near heaven, Carl, who had a fear of heights, signed up for a global extreme challenge. It was a live-streamed event where participants had to complete twelve extreme sports to finish the challenge. Those who succeeded would have the chance to choose a piece of ancient fossil on an island closest to the sun and carve their names alongside their loved ones. Carl persevered through the grueling competition, even facing his fear of heights to complete a bungee jump. As he leaped into the void, he shouted with all his might, “Yvonne, I love you!” His passionate declaration resonated with countless viewers around the world. In the end, he etched their names into the fossil, solidifying their bond in a way that felt almost eternal. Yvonne’s heart finally stirred with emotion. At twenty-one, she agreed to be with Carl, and now, at twenty-four, she remembered the day they held hands for the first time, tears streaming down Carl’s face as he said, “Holding your hand means a lifetime together.” A lifetime. That was a word Yvonne had never dared to think about. Yet her mother had been right. She mused, “Why is love in this world so fragile?” A single tear slipped down her cheek. Yvonne quickly wiped it away. Yesterday, when her hearing finally came back, she rushed to find Carl – only to discover his dirty little secret: he had taken a young intern reporter under his wing. Today, Yvonne had someone dig up all the information on the intern reporter. Felicity Simons, gorgeous and ambitious, shamelessly threw herself at Carl every chance she got. After fourteen years of companionship and three years of romance, they were about to get married. And this was what she got instead. It was all so absurd.
As dusk fell, Carl stepped through the door. Yvonne lay draped on the sofa, her demeanor languid and tired. Carl strode over to her; concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong, Yvonne? Are you feeling unwell?” Yvonne could read his lips. She shook her head, lifting her hands to sign. She didn’t want him to know she could hear now. At that moment, Carl’s phone rang abruptly. He glanced at the screen, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Just a second, I need to take this call.” He answered, turning slightly away from Yvonne. Without her focus on his lips, he thought Yvonne couldn’t decipher what he was saying. “Mr. Whitman?” a sultry voice chimed from the other end, dripping with sweetness, enough to melt anyone’s resolve. Carl tugged at his tie. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you have enough?” Yvonne felt a shiver run through her. Her fists clenched at her sides to keep the tears at bay. She fixed her gaze on the side of Carl’s face, noting the smug expression he wore as if he were imagining something delightfully improper. She saw his Adam’s apple bob slightly. “Yeah, Mr. Whitman. I’m waiting in your car downstairs, wearing that outfit you said you liked… Want to join me?” The woman’s laughter was teasing. Carl muttered under his breath, “Just wait, you vixen.” He shot up, turning to find Yvonne’s eyes, which were now glistening with suppressed emotion. He tried to soften his tone. “What’s wrong, Yvonne? Are you really not feeling well?” Yvonne lifted her hand and slowly signed. “Just a little stomachache.” “I’ll get you something for that.” Carl hurried to the medicine cabinet, taking two stomach tablets and gently placing them in her palm. “Take these first,” he urged softly, pouring her a glass of warm water. As Carl watched her take the medication, he rested his hand carefully on her stomach, his expression tender, as if he were caring for the most precious treasure. Noticing Yvonne’s demeanor easing, Carl carefully lifted her and set her down on the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll make you some soothing soup, and you can have it when you wake up.” Yvonne nodded obediently, curling up beside him like a cat—graceful and sweet. Carl adored her in this state. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on her lips, his eyes brimming with affection. Yvonne closed her eyes as Carl quietly slipped away. He headed to the kitchen to prepare the ingredients for the soup, then made his way to the underground parking garage. Yvonne, roused by a sense of urgency, switched on the garage’s surveillance monitor. In the footage, Carl arrived, and Yvonne saw Felicity standing there, her attire barely concealing her figure. The moment she laid eyes on Carl, she giggled flirtatiously. “Mr. Whitman! What took you so long?” Carl wasted no time rushing toward her and pushing her into the car. “Yvonne’s not feeling well, and I need to take care of her before I do anything else.” “Oh, Mr. Whitman, you… you’re so good to that… little mute.” Felicity’s words dripped with mockery as they spilled out. “She’s my wife. If I don’t take care of her, should I take care of you, you little tramp?” Carl snapped, his movement harsh, betraying no concern for Felicity’s feelings. He loved Yvonne, but he also craved the wild abandon that came from his sex with women like Felicity. Yvonne was exquisite, and he wanted to keep her purity for their wedding night; to him, Felicity was nothing more than an outlet for his desires. The car shook violently, the motion intense and prolonged. The surveillance feed was silent, leaving Yvonne unaware of Carl’s words. But she clearly saw the man who had promised her the world, passionately lost with another woman in the garage. What did his promises mean now? What did her own feelings mean in the face of this betrayal? Yvonne suddenly burst into laughter, a sound tinged with bitter tears. She cried for her unreciprocated love, for the heart she had laid bare before him. She wept over the hard-won peace she had finally found after her parents’ tragic deaths. She cried for her broken heart. Yvonne gasped for breath, her body curled on the floor. Just before slipping into darkness, a primal instinct drove her to dial Carl’s number. The phone rang, and it didn’t take long for someone to pick up. In the haze of unconsciousness, she heard the mingling of a man’s and a woman’s heavy groan. Carl asked, “What are you doing answering my call?” Felicity’s voice chimed through the line, playful and teasing. “Oh, Mr. Whitman, why be afraid? She can’t hear us. Isn’t this a little exciting?” Carl’s low groans blended with the sound of bodies colliding, and the reality of betrayal crashed over Yvonne like a wave.
When Yvonne finally regained consciousness, the first thing she saw was Carl’s anxious gaze. “Yvonne, I’m so sorry. We need to get you to the hospital,” he said, reaching out to scoop her up in his arms. Yvonne gently pushed him away, shaking her head. “You fainted! We’re going to the hospital, okay?” Carl insisted, his voice laced with urgency. Yvonne mused, “Yeah, I’ve fainted while you were busy enjoying yourself with Felicity in the car.” “What a buzzkill I am?” With great effort, Yvonne struggled to sit up, continuing to shake her head. Carl reached out again, but she dodged his grasp. “Yvonne, what’s going on?” Carl asked, panic rising in his chest as if he were about to lose something incredibly precious. A dull ache throbbed in Yvonne’s heart. She slowly signed, “I’m fine; I just didn’t eat lunch.” “Why didn’t you have lunch? The soup will be ready soon. Just have a little something while I finish the meal,” Carl said patiently, heading toward the kitchen. He still cared for her, still worried about her well-being. But the clear hickeys on his neck and the smudged lipstick on his disheveled shirt were a cruel reminder. It was as if they were mocking her, “Yvonne, look at what you thought love would be. This is the man you love.” Yvonne took out her tablet. She was a comic artist, and when she was with Carl, she used the pen name Joyvonne to create a serialized comic. The comic captured their daily lives, filled with tender and romantic details, showcasing her artistic talent and winning the hearts of many fans. She typed out an announcement: [The final chapter drops 1 AM next week. After that, the series ends for good.] The news sent shockwaves through the comic community. [Is Joyvonne retiring to get married?] [Of course! Even I, a skeptic of love, have started to believe.] [Though I’m sad, I wish Joyvonne all the best.] [Can’t we get a post-wedding series?] [Please, we want a post-wedding story!] [Pretty please!] Reading through the comments, Yvonne felt a wry smile creep onto her face. The fairytale romance she had envisioned was far from reality. In the end, lies only brought decay and pain. “Yvonne, why are you stopping the comic?” Carl asked, returning with the meal just as he noticed the announcement. When she started the series, Yvonne had told Carl it was a reflection of their love. The moment their love faded, so would her art. “Just want to change the theme,” she signed, looking up at Carl as she gestured. Carl’s heart slowly settled. He thought, “What was I just thinking? How could Yvonne ever find out about my affair? She hardly leaves the villa; when she does, it’s always with friends I’ve arranged for her. She doesn’t see the world beyond me.” “True, we’re engaged now. It’s time to think about a post-wedding series,” Carl said, wrapping his arms around Yvonne’s soft body. He swallowed hard, longing for her body. But they both felt it was right to save their complete surrender for their perfect wedding night. Carl had been holding back for a long time, so when Felicity made her bold move, he couldn’t resist and fell for her. He reasoned with himself that he was just a normal wealthy man; sleeping with a few women wasn’t a big deal. After they were married, he would only be with Yvonne, cleaning up any messes outside. This time before the wedding was just a bit of indulgence. Thinking of Felicity’s alluring figure made his palms sweat. “Yvonne, I want to…”
Yvonne gazed at Carl with clear, innocent eyes. Carl swallowed hard; the words he wanted to say caught in his throat. “Maybe you should eat something first,” he finally said. Yvonne nodded and followed him to the dining room. She took small bites of her meal while Carl’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen, irritation flickering across his face before he abruptly hung up. The phone rang again. “Laird and Aiden want me to join them for drinks,” Carl said with a half-hearted smile, but he answered the call. Carl looked at Yvonne, his smile softening as he said into the phone, “No, I’m not going. Yvonne isn’t feeling well, and I’m staying home with her.” “Carl, come on! Felicity’s here, too.” Carl’s expression darkened. “I said no! If you call me again tonight, we’re done.” He hung up, frustration evident on his face. Yvonne watched him, her eyes clear and innocent. Feeling a bit guilty, Carl rubbed his nose. “I’m not going anywhere. You finish eating, and I’ll stay here and watch you sleep.” Yvonne nodded, finishing her meal. Though they lived together in the same villa, they hadn’t crossed that line yet. It was Yvonne’s choice, her way of maintaining a sense of security. At that moment, Yvonne felt a wave of relief wash over her. Thank goodness she hadn’t given everything to Carl; otherwise, she would be in a much worse position right now. Yvonne closed her eyes, her breathing steady. Thinking she had fallen asleep, Carl quietly rose, tucked her in, and turned to leave. Soon, the sound of the car engine echoed in the driveway. She knew he was off to find Felicity again. Yvonne got up, changed into a pair of understated workout clothes, and headed downstairs to follow him. She was aware she was seeking out pain, but she needed to see for herself. What were those people around him really like behind closed doors? Inside the opulent private room, the atmosphere was electric. Men and women were reveling, laughter and shouts filling the air. Clothes were strewn everywhere, a chaotic scene of indulgence. As Carl entered, he spotted Felicity, who had just taken a sip of red wine. Her shoulders were revealed, and Carl’s marks were still visible on her delicate skin, glowing enticingly under the lights. Felicity sauntered over and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Carl pushed her away slightly, but her lips landed on his neck, leaving a sultry red mark on both of them. “Ooh!” The crowd erupted, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. “Carl, you’re a stud! You didn’t even kiss her, and Felicity’s already weak in the knees!” “Who can blame her?” “Carl, Carl, you’re the man!” Carl’s hand roamed around Felicity’s waist as he pulled her into the center of the sofa. “Felicity, no kissing on the lips. I’m serious; I only kiss Yvonne. You’re not worthy,” he said firmly. Felicity’s face flickered with embarrassment, but she quickly regained her composure, straddling his lap with a coy smile. “Mr. Whitman, I get it. I won’t do it again. Can I have that article about the movie star?” “Sure,” Carl replied, giving her a playful pat. Felicity let out a soft sigh. “Hey, Carl, who’s hotter? Felicity or Yvonne?” someone shouted from the crowd. “Felicity can’t hold a candle to my Yvonne,” Carl snapped, his demeanor shifting instantly. He grabbed a nearby glass and smashed it over the man’s head. Felicity was knocked over in the chaos. The room fell silent. The man quickly apologized, slapping himself in the face, “Sorry, Carl! I messed up. I shouldn’t have said that.” “I warned you—if any of this nonsense gets back to Yvonne, you’ll all be in deep trouble!” Carl lost interest, pushing away Felicity, who was trying to cling to his leg. “And you, don’t even think about it. If you do, you won’t have a whole corpse left.” With that, Carl strode out of the room.
After Carl left, it was a while before anyone in the room dared to speak. “Laird, you’ve got some nerve comparing Yvonne to that kind of woman,” one of the guests muttered. Felicity felt her face flush with embarrassment. She thought, “I graduated from a prestigious university. I have a respectable job. I’m just using my looks to secure a few resources—how did that make me ‘that kind of woman’? It’s as if they see me as nothing but a prostitute.” “Right? You begged Carl for that project, and it was Yvonne who helped you get the contract,” another chimed in. “Ha! And you’re all accusing me? Carl is out chasing women behind Yvonne’s back. Have any of you ever spilled the beans?!” Laird shot back, clearly agitated from their barrage. “We’re only trying to protect Yvonne. She’s such a naive girl; what would she do if she knew about all this dirty business?” someone argued. “She’s just a beautiful mute girl. Without Carl, who knows what would happen to her?” “Look, Yvonne depends on Carl. We’re keeping things from her for her own good. Better she stays in her fairy tale than face this nightmare,” another voice added. “Exactly! She’s living happily in her castle, provided by Carl. It’s better that way.” “Come on, Carl can play around. When he’s done, he can just toss those women away.” Feeling unsettled, Felicity stood up, adjusting her clothes as she swiftly made her way out of the room to catch up with Carl. She mused, “I can give him the thrill Yvonne doesn’t. I know he’s not done with me yet. Those people inside? Just a bunch of hypocrites!” “They act like they care for Yvonne, but they’re the ones stabbing her in the back!” A fierce glint sparkled in Felicity’s eyes. “I will make sure Carl can’t live without me. I’m up for anything he desires, no limits.” “I’m way more fun than that little mute.” “I’ll push Yvonne out of the picture; I’ll become Mrs. Whitman in all her glory, and those snobs will rue the day they underestimated me!” “Once I’m done, I’ll make sure that little mute ends up at some club. With her face and history with Carl, she’ll have a prime market!” Felicity spotted Carl up ahead and quickened her pace to catch him. Meanwhile, the room began to empty out quickly. Once everyone left, Yvonne emerged from the adjacent room. She heard every last word. She thought, “How ironic. To them, Carl’s love is rare when he’s the kind of man who plays around but still comes home. They all lied to me, but it’s for my own good?” “Ugh, that’s revolting.” Yvonne drove aimlessly, eventually stopping at a mountaintop campsite. She sat in her car, staring into the inky darkness of the night sky as hints of dawn began to creep in. Gradually, the horizon unfolded, revealing a sliver of light that expanded until the whole sky radiated with brightness. It felt symbolic, like her own life. After enduring the darkness of night, the dawn would inevitably arrive. In six days, she would be free. Setting a countdown alarm on her phone, Yvonne leaned back in her seat and drifted off to sleep. Despite the cramped space of the car, she found comfort in the moment. At two in the afternoon, her phone vibrated, rousing her from slumber. It was a message from Carl. [Yvonne? Not at home?] [Yvonne, where are you?] [I’m coming to get you.] Yvonne stared at the screen, the concern in his words feeling bitterly ironic. After leaving last night, he hadn’t come home at all—he must have been found by Felicity, and who knew what else they’d been up to? With a sharp pain in her chest, Yvonne squeezed her eyes shut, a single tear cascading down her cheek. She wiped it fiercely, vowing that this would be her last tear for him. She typed a reply: [Just decided to check out the Central Mall, no need to pick me up.] She wanted to buy a couple of clothes for herself. Everything in her closet was handpicked by Carl, and she wasn’t taking any of it with her. Carl texted back: [I’ll come find you.] Knowing she could refuse him no longer, Yvonne chose not to reply. Instead, she drove toward the mall. As she stepped out of the car and took a few steps, she collided right into Felicity.
“Ouch, I’m so sorry.” Felicity smiled as she spoke, her sultry eyes gleaming with delight as they locked onto Yvonne’s. Yvonne waved her hand dismissively, not wanting to engage. Yet Felicity blocked her path, leaning in slightly, her voice dripping with sweetness. “Miss, you’re awfully quiet. Have you forgiven me already?” “I just found out I’m pregnant and was rushing to find my husband when I bumped into you. Please don’t take it the wrong way.” Yvonne regarded her with a cool expression, managing a faint smile. It was striking, a perfect blend of beauty and aloofness. In stark contrast, Felicity exuded a vulgar, jaded aura. “Yvonne, do you know whose child I’m carrying?” Felicity’s tone turned provocative. “Felicity, are you asking for trouble?” Carl’s icy voice cut through the tension. Felicity immediately shifted to a pitiful demeanor, her eyes wide and pleading. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Whitman! I accidentally bumped into Ms. Chase on my way down; I didn’t mean…” Carl shoved Felicity aside, sending her crashing to the floor, her face paling in shock. Yvonne grabbed Carl’s arm and signed, “I’m okay. She claimed she’s pregnant and asked if I knew who the father was. I don’t know her. Do you?” Carl’s face drained of color for a moment, but he quickly regained composure. “I don’t know her either. She looks like a total nutcase. Just ignore her; I’ll get a bodyguard to handle this.” He studied Yvonne closely, relieved to see her surprise was just that—surprise, nothing more. His heart settled a little. “Yvonne, Don’t let her get to you. Come on, let’s go buy you some clothes,” Carl said, wrapping an arm around her as they moved away. Felicity scrambled to her feet, desperation evident. “Mr. Whitman, I’m pregnant with your child!” Carl pressed the elevator button without breaking stride, not even glancing back. “Mr. Whitman…” Felicity called after him, her voice rising in pitch. He didn’t respond; his focus remained solely on Yvonne. Yet Yvonne could sense Carl’s restrained anger and frustration. While shopping, Carl’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. He glanced down, and a series of images filled the screen. His breath hitched, eyes burning with desire, just as Yvonne exited the fitting room. “I think I’ll try on this menswear,” Carl said, striding toward the farthest fitting room with purpose. Yvonne handed her chosen outfits to the sales associate, ready to check out. She was aware of Carl’s preference for tailored suits, and she knew what he was likely doing in there. It was impossible not to notice Felicity had entered. In the fitting room, Felicity knelt on the floor, watching as Carl’s demeanor flipped from collected to volatile, and triumph surged through her. She mused, “No matter what it takes, he’s pulled away from Yvonne.” “That’s the first step. A plain, voiceless girl like her can’t compete with me.” After a tense moment, Carl shoved Felicity against the cold wall, his expression fierce. “I’ll see you tonight, you little tramp.” Felicity’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Mr. Whitman, I’m carrying your baby…” “Not for long,” Carl said. “Mr. Whitman, don’t you want to see what it’s like to sleep with a pregnant woman? I’ve heard it can be quite…” Felicity leaned in closer, whispering suggestively in his ear. Carl’s eyes flickered with interest. “You’re not worried about your health. That’s your choice. I don’t care; I’ll make sure you get plenty of cash.” A chill crept down Felicity’s spine. It took her a moment to grasp how he felt. Carl had no intention of claiming her child—no, he simply wanted to play with her. And then she would have to terminate the pregnancy. Felicity felt uneasy at Carl’s cold yet calculated response. When Carl finally re-emerged to join Yvonne, he was back to being the gentle, refined man she loved.
As night fell, Carl quietly slipped out after making sure Yvonne was sound asleep. She slept peacefully, undisturbed until morning. When Yvonne finally woke up, she found breakfast waiting for her. But it wasn’t Carl who had cooked; he had ordered it. “Sorry for the late start. I had someone bring breakfast for you,” Carl said softly, his gaze warm as he looked at her. Yvonne nodded, appreciating the gesture. “I’ll be away on a business trip for five days. Don’t worry; it won’t delay our plans to get the marriage license. I’ll bring you back a little something,” Carl added, taking her hand gently. Yvonne pulled her hand back lightly and nodded again. She mused, “How ironic that I would be leaving this place in just five days.” “Amanda will come by to check on you while I’m gone,” Carl said. Yvonne shook her head and signed to say, “I don’t like having anyone in the house. I can take care of myself.” “Alright, you stubborn girl. But leaving you alone at home makes me a bit uneasy. Just promise me you’ll text me every day, okay?” Yvonne nodded again, though she knew she wouldn’t actually send any messages. Before heading out, Carl stocked up on fresh fruits, vegetables, and meat. When Aiden Parker arrived to pick Carl up, he chuckled. “Yvonne, look at how good Carl is to you! He’s worried you might get anxious while he’s away, so he sent me to check in.” Yvonne met Aiden’s gaze, recalling what he had said that night. Aiden had said that he kept things from her, but all for her sake. She smiled, though it felt a bit distant. Aiden didn’t think much of it; he could see how Yvonne’s eyes only lit up when she looked at Carl. “Yvonne, we’re off!” Carl called, wheeling his suitcase toward the door. Yvonne nodded, watching them leave. Aiden suddenly felt a twinge of realization—Yvonne looked at Carl the same way she looked at him. As he glanced back, Yvonne waved goodbye and turned to head back into the house. “Carl, are you sure it’s okay for Yvonne to be home alone?” Aiden asked, starting the car. “It’s just a few days for the business trip. I’ll be back before you know it,” Carl reassured him. But just as he was finishing his sentence, a delicate hand slipped up from the back seat. Carl turned slightly to see Felicity climbing up from the rear. “Mr. Whitman, can I join you on the trip? It’ll be so boring with just a bunch of guys,” Felicity chimed in, her hand sliding under Carl’s jacket. Carl scoffed, but the heat radiating from his body told Felicity everything she needed to know. “Mr. Whitman, I shouldn’t have joked with Ms. Chase that day. You explained it to her, right? She’s such a naive girl; of course, she would believe you,” Felicity said, her tone brazen, completely disregarding Aiden’s presence. She was sure Yvonne knew about her and Carl by now. Maybe by the time they returned, Yvonne would have left on her own. That kind of girl was innocent yet stubborn—she wouldn’t compromise her dignity. If Yvonne left, with her skills, she could easily find a way to rise up. “Yvonne trusts me completely. She won’t overthink it,” Carl said, a hint of pride in his voice. In his mind, Yvonne believed in him above all else. Back at the villa, Yvonne began to pack her things. On the first day, she burned all the gifts Carl had made for her and every photo they had taken together. Meanwhile, Carl had just arrived at his business destination, spending the night with Felicity at a hot springs resort. Carl was having too much fun to remember to check in with Yvonne, and he didn’t even notice that she hadn’t texted him to ask if he had arrived safely. The next day, Yvonne sold all the clothes and luxury items Carl had bought for her at a second-hand store. On the third day, she donated the money to a rural elementary school. After wrapping up with a client, Carl took Felicity for a wild ride, speeding up to the mountaintop where they let loose, basking in the glow of the sunset and the dawn. It was pure indulgence. Felicity was a whirlwind of excitement, her suitcase stuffed with all sorts of supplies that kept Carl on his toes. In the thrill of the moment, he completely forgot about Yvonne. On the third day, Yvonne went into the rose garden and uprooted every single rose, and on a whim, she chopped down the cherry tree that had just begun to bear fruit. Those were all plants Carl had lovingly tended for her. Meanwhile, Carl and Felicity had flown abroad, and he was sprawled out on a private beach, enjoying the attentive care Felicity provided. It was then that he finally thought of Yvonne. Three days had gone by without a word from her. He pushed Felicity away and reached for his phone, ready to call Yvonne. But it was nighttime back home. Carl hesitated, putting the phone down. He imagined Yvonne was upset with him for not reaching out sooner. He mused, “Yvonne has a temper, after all.” He gazed at her photo on his phone, a warm, affectionate grin spreading across his face.
On the fourth day, Yvonne signed over the rights to her and Carl’s romantic comic to a multinational film company. From now on, this story would no longer belong to her and Carl; it was just a product. In the dead of night on his end, Carl decided to video call Yvonne during her daytime. But she hung up immediately. She didn’t want to hear his voice. Carl knew Yvonne was upset. The girl he held so dear had a way of making even her anger seem adorable. He started texting her. [Yvonne, babe, I’m sorry! I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather since I got here and completely forgot to check in.] [Yvonne, please don’t be mad. I’ll book a flight right now and be back tomorrow. I promise it won’t delay our plans to get the marriage license.] [Yvonne, just wait for me. I’ve got a gift for you!] [Yvonne, I love you. Don’t ignore me.] He sent dozens of messages, but they all fell on deaf ears. Panic began to set in. He quickly instructed his assistant to book a flight back, but the earliest he could get home was at 1 AM the day after tomorrow. Carl sent Yvonne his flight details. [Yvonne, I’ll be back tomorrow night.] [Yvonne, I can’t wait to register our marriage and bring you home. That’s when I’ll finally feel at ease.] Yvonne read Carl’s messages, feeling a bitter irony wash over her. His landing time coincided perfectly with her departure. Yvonne finally typed out before silencing her phone: [Don’t forget to check out the comic’s grand finale and the gift.] She tossed her phone into the box where she had once kept her engagement ring. Inside the box were photos of Carl and Felicity together—intimate moments captured in the car, in the great outdoors, at Yvonne’s Evergreen Wonderland before it opened, and during this very trip, and more. Felicity sent her sex photos every day. There were all sorts of poses with Carl. Each image spoke volumes without a single word. They starkly obliterated every fond memory and ounce of love Yvonne had once felt. With a steady hand, Yvonne picked up a pen and wrote: [We are breaking up.] Meanwhile, Carl was on the plane, feeling his heart race as if something precious was slipping away from him—something he desperately tried to grasp but couldn’t. Felicity had initially thought about doing something thrilling at a high altitude, but for the first time, Carl firmly turned her down. A sense of panic washed over Felicity as her right eye twitched. “Mr. Whitman, I think I’d like to stay with a friend for a while. Once my belly gets bigger, I’ll come back to you,” Felicity said with a playful smile. “Do whatever you want,” Carl replied, tossing her a credit card. Felicity accepted it with a grin. She thought to herself, “Money is all that matters. With enough cash, I can disappear whenever I want. If there’s trouble, they won’t find me. If nothing happens, I can come back with Carl’s child and maybe even secure my position.” On the fifth day, Yvonne hired a professional moving company and cleaning crew. Every personal item she owned was packed up and taken away, leaving no trace of her in the house. As night fell, Yvonne double-checked the timeline for the comic launch, confirming everything was in order. She also arranged for two boxes of cash to be delivered. After three years with Carl, the gifts he had given her were all converted into this amount of money. Yvonne wanted to cut ties with Carl completely; she didn’t want a single cent from him. Just like his cheap love, she didn’t want any part of it. At 1 AM, as the comic’s grand finale was released, Yvonne slipped into a car through the back entrance, the vehicle gliding smoothly into the night. She mused, “Carl, I don’t want to see you anymore.”
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