Andrius’s expression froze for a moment, as if he hadn’t expected me to agree so easily.

A flicker of panic rose in his chest, and for the first time in days, a trace of guilt surfaced as he remembered his neglect and the harshness of his earlier words.

His tone softened, tentative and almost pleading. “Maxine, I only need a child to appease my father. I know you’ve been wronged all this time. Bear with it a little longer. After Trisha gives birth, I’ll make it up to you.”

I drew a slow, steadying breath, forcing down the nausea that churned in my stomach, and said only, “Alright.”

Without another word, I went upstairs and began packing my luggage.

Since I was leaving, I wouldn’t leave a single trace behind.

Every item in the villa had been chosen by both of us, some even handmade with our own hands.

The ceramic mugs in the cupboard bore our cartoon figures, hand-fired during our newlywed days. Now, a layer of dust lay at the bottom, untouched for a long time, a silent testament to what we once were.

The travel journal lay in the drawer, a relic of promises we once made to explore a new country every year for our “honeymoon.” It held memories of laughter, sunsets, and stolen moments, but it stopped five years ago, abandoned and untouched.

On the bedside table, the faint fragrance of grapes lingered, a trace of a past I could almost reach.

I drifted toward the terrace, remembering how I had once mentioned that as a child, our yard had a grape trellis where my mother would hold me beneath its shade, telling me stories of princes and princesses.

The very next day, Andrius had come home with a truckload of grapevines, and together we built a trellis in the garden.

“If you miss your mother, just sit here. The little grape elves will carry your longing to her.”

Back then, he had seen the quiet ache in my heart and tried to ease it.

Now the garden was covered in Trisha’s favorite lavender. The trellis had been torn down during my five-year coma, never to bear fruit again, never to carry that familiar, comforting fragrance.

Every object decorating this unrecognizable home felt like a jagged blade, slicing into my already shattered, bleeding heart.

I endured the ache, discarding them one by one, packing my things with steady hands, and finally signed the agreement.

As I approached the study door, ambiguous sounds drifted out.

“Andrius, no! Maxine is home!” Trisha’s voice sounded soft and flirtatious, a feigned refusal that twisted my stomach.

Andrius’s lazy drawl floated out, low and possessive. “You tease me, isn’t it, because you want me to take you while Maxine is here?”

“Isn’t that more exciting?”

A sudden, loud cry from Trisha cut through the air. I didn’t need to imagine what had happened next; the sounds alone twisted my stomach. The papers in my hand crumpled slightly from my tightening grip.

Want excitement? Fine.

I stepped back a few paces, letting the sound of my movement echo on purpose.

The noises from the study stopped at once.

I knocked lightly on the half-closed door, then pushed it open with a calm expression.

Andrius’s hand hovered over his buttons, frozen mid-motion, while Trisha stood beside him, both hands pressing down her skirt.

I raised an eyebrow. “Busy?”

His face flickered for a moment, but he quickly regained control. “What is it?”

I held out the documents in my hand. “Sign this.”

“What is that?”

“Property paperwork,” I said evenly, hiding the storm inside. “If you want me to give up this room, then you should compensate me with a house. Reasonable, isn’t it?”

Andrius froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard by my words, then frowned slightly, his gaze sinking into mine.

He studied me, a trace of probing in his eyes. “You never used to ask for these things on your own.”

“People change,” I said flatly, then urged him, “Sign it.”

Andrius looked at me for a long, heavy moment, then finally nodded. Casually, he asked, “Which house did you choose? I remember you liked the development by Eastwood Lake… should we buy one there….”

He abruptly stopped, the pen hovering midair. From my angle, I saw Trisha’s fingers brushing across his back, one leg pressed tightly against him beneath the desk.

Andrius paused for two seconds, his gaze darkening. Then he picked up the pen, signed the papers, and handed them back to me.

“If there’s nothing else, go rest early.”

Though his tone was composed, the suppressed desire in his voice betrayed him.

I took the papers, my gaze sweeping once between him and Trisha, the corner of my lips lifting in a faint, mocking smile.

When I closed the door, the sound of rustling clothes drifted out again. My chest tingled, but the pain was gone.

The next morning, I brought the signed agreement to the City Hall, only to halt when a familiar figure appeared before me.

“Titus Morgan?” My eyes widened. “Why are you here?”

He was the man who had once kidnapped me, Andrius’s half-brother, the illegitimate son of the Velasquez family who could never show his face.

Leaning against the car, he smoked lazily, the curling smoke blurring his features, though his gaze made my breath catch.

“Don’t be nervous.” He stubbed out the cigarette and walked toward me. “You betrayed me before. How could I not keep an eye on you?”

His words tightened my chest, a bitter pang twisting deep inside. Five years with him, only to end up choosing his brother, his enemy, in the end. No wonder he was here, watching me stumble and humiliate myself.

Stopping before me, Titus chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Here to finalize the divorce, huh? Andrius didn’t even bother showing up?”

I lowered my eyes. “He doesn’t need to.”

Titus only smirked, neither agreeing nor denying. “Then go on.”

Fear pricked my spine, wary of his intentions, so I hurried into City Hall.

The process was startlingly fast. When the seal pressed down, memories of the day Andrius and I had received our marriage certificate flashed before me.

“Maxine, I’ll repay you and protect you for a lifetime,” his voice echoed in my mind.

Seven years of marriage, five spent in a coma. His so-called lifetime had lasted only two years.

Now the marriage certificate had turned into divorce agreement, and the whole process had taken less than ten minutes.

When I stepped outside, Titus was still there, leaning casually against the car. I approached him and pulled another document from my bag, the one I had signed yesterday.

“This is ten percent of Velasquez Corporation’s shares. Take it as a token of my sincerity.”

Titus’s gaze lingered on the paper for a long moment, then lifted to meet mine.

“Trying to prove your loyalty?” His laugh was sudden and dangerous. He reached out, gripping my wrist. “I have a better way.”

Before I could react, he dragged me back into City Hall.

In my hands, a new marriage certificate appeared. I opened it, and in the photo, Titus wore a half-smile while I stared blankly, emotionless. No matter how you looked at it, we didn’t look like a loving couple at all.

Titus suddenly pinched my chin, his gaze boring into mine. “Maxine, this time, I won’t give you another chance to betray me.”

After leaving City Hall, Titus drove me back to the home I had once shared with Andrius.

As I stepped out of the car, he leaned over to unfasten my seatbelt. I froze, my pulse spiking with fear.

A soft laugh escaped him, his warm breath brushing against my ear. “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow.”

I nodded frantically, my legs trembling, almost ready to flee.

Holding Andrius's divorce certificate in my hand, I had expected relief or at least lingering heartbreak. But this unexpected marriage certificate had scattered all that, leaving me with a strange, unsettled feeling.

I stood at the doorway, taking a deep breath, calming myself.

The door swung open. The servant looked at me awkwardly. “Miss, you’re finally back. Sir wants to see you.”

I stepped inside and saw Andrius on the sofa, his expression cold and unpleasant. Beside him was the suitcase I had packed the night before. On the coffee table lay several of the memories I had discarded, strewn before him like a silent accusation.

Andrius raised his chin slightly, frowning as his gaze pinned me. “Explain this. What does it mean?”

“While packing yesterday, I cleared out the things I didn’t want. Didn’t I ask the servant to throw them away?”

His expression sank, and he repeated my words in disbelief. “Didn’t want? Throw away?”

I nodded. “The cups hadn’t been used in years; they were already worn. I had no intention of keeping them. And the grape fragrance… It’s over five years old and has long expired. There was no reason to keep it.”

Andrius’s throat tightened, and he stepped forward, gripping my shoulders. “It’s my fault. I had planned to use the cups with you after you woke… and the grape fragrance… I could make another, just with you.”

“The grape trellis is gone. What could we even use to make it?”

His expression darkened instantly, and there was a flicker of madness in his eyes. “So… you want to leave me?”

I met his gaze briefly, then looked at the suitcase, my tone soft but final. “I was planning to leave.”

His grip on my shoulders tightened, sending a sharp ache through me.

I was forced to calm down. “You want me to take care of Trisha… I can’t. That’s why I planned to leave for a while, to clear my head.”

Slowly, the pressure eased. His hands slid down to my wrists, his thumb brushing the vein there with a gentleness that only deepened the ache in my chest. “You just woke up. How could I let you go alone? I know you’re upset, so tonight I prepared a banquet to celebrate your discharge.”

“As for the trip, wait for me a month, no, just a week. Once I finish company matters, I’ll go with you.”

I shook my head. “No need. Forget the banquet, forget the trip… You don’t need to come. Trisha can’t be without you now, right?”

His face darkened with worry. “I can find the best team to care for her. Maxine, you are the most important person to me.”

His words made my heart jolt, but before I could respond, Trisha’s sudden scream rang out from upstairs.

Andrius’s face darkened at once. Without hesitation, he rushed up, leaving the air heavy with tension.

I let out a bitter laugh and turned to leave, but the butler stepped in my way.

“It’s time to change for the banquet.”

“I won’t go.”

The butler’s tone stayed respectful, yet carried quiet insistence. “Sir prepared this especially for you. Please be sure to attend.”