Brian returned with Daisy and their twin children.

He frowned, his voice cold. “Aurora, what are you doing?”

Without changing my expression, I tossed the remaining pages into the fire. My voice was hoarse. “Burning things.”

Brian’s face darkened as if he wanted to say something, but Daisy gently tugged at his arm.

Her tone was soft, yet laced with pride. “Darling, don’t be angry. She’s just… reluctant to let go.”

Brian pulled his arm away from her, his expression stiff as he turned toward me.

“The children will be staying here for a while. Let them use the nursery.”

I froze, my nails digging into my palm.

“That room was meant for our child.”

He hesitated, then spoke with icy calm. “They’re my children too.”

I laughed, the sound sharp as a blade.

“But they’ll never be mine.”

The air froze.

Daisy leaned into his arms and said sweetly, “Aurora, don’t be so bitter. I just want the kids to have a warm home.”

I didn’t bother replying. I turned and went upstairs.

Night fell.

The room was silent, except for the glow of my phone lighting up again and again.

It was Daisy.

【The necklace he gave you when you were rushed to the ER—it was just a leftover free gift I didn’t want.】

【Every time he said he was on a business trip, he was actually with me.】

【Now everyone knows I’m Mrs. Hudson. You’re nothing but a forgotten shadow.】

Photo after photo appeared on the screen—

hotel rooms, lobbies, dinner tables—

each stamped with clear dates, even one from last night.

Only then did I realize that while I was drowning in pain, he had been smiling in her arms.

My chest ached dully, but the pain quickly settled into silence.

When pain lasts too long, even the tearing feels numb.

Late that night, Brian pushed the door open.

He carried a faint scent of jasmine—Daisy’s favorite perfume.

On his neck were faint red marks.

“I know what happened today was a bit harsh,” he said softly, standing before me, his tone gentle like soothing a pet. “But I’m helping you atone. Daisy has forgiven you. Just apologize to them tomorrow, and everything will be over.”

I let out a low laugh, heavy with exhaustion.

“I won’t apologize for something I didn’t do.”

A crease formed between his brows. He was about to speak when his phone lit up.

It was a photo from Daisy.

She was wearing a sheer lace nightdress, her eyes full of invitation.

A flicker of desire crossed his face before he quickly pocketed the phone.

“Stop being difficult,” he said hastily. “Think about your mother’s medical bills. Just say what needs to be said tomorrow, and this will all end.”

Without waiting for a reply, he left and slammed the door behind him.

Ten minutes later, my own phone buzzed.

A video began to play.

On the screen, Brian was shirtless, bent over Daisy’s shoulder, their breathing tangled and heavy.

I watched it quietly, then turned off the screen.

No tears. No anger.

Just silence.

Morning in London. The sunlight filtered through the fog, falling softly across the windowsill.

Aurora sat in the corner of a café, a sealed envelope resting beside her cup.

It had already been sent—her final letter to the Hudson family.

She lifted her gaze toward the red double-decker bus passing slowly along the street.

For the first time in her life, she felt something close to peace.

Meanwhile, across the ocean, in another city.

Brian and Daisy were walking side by side past the glittering windows of a luxury shopping mall.

She held his arm, looking both obedient and proud.

“Darling, which dress should I wear to the party tonight? Do you think this blue one is too flashy?”

“You look beautiful in anything,” he said with a gentle smile,

though his fingers in his pocket kept tracing the edges of his phone.

On the screen was a single name: 【Aurora】.

He stared at it for a long time.

Lit a cigarette. Then another.

Ash piled at the tip of his shoes, yet he never pressed “call.”

Instead, he typed a message:

【Aurora, tomorrow is Grandfather’s eightieth birthday. I suggest you don’t make a scene at the party—don’t embarrass Daisy or the children.】

He hesitated for a few seconds before hitting send.

The message went through, but there was no reply.

He stared at the screen for a long time,

until Daisy looped her arm through his again and asked softly, “Brian? What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” he said flatly, crushing out his cigarette. “Let’s go.”

The next day.

Arnold Hudson’s eightieth birthday banquet was held with great splendor.

Under golden chandeliers, the hall glittered with guests and flashing lights.

Brian entered the room holding Daisy’s hand.

He was immaculate in his suit, his smile perfectly measured.

She wore a golden gown, her gently rounded belly visible—every inch the destined hostess.

They stood together like a pair born to match.

Until Arnold appeared.

Only then did Brian release her hand and step forward to help the old man.

“Brian, why didn’t Aurora come with you?”

The old man’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Brian’s fingers stiffened, his gaze dropping slightly.

“She’s been working on your birthday gift and got exhausted. I told her to rest. She’ll come later.”

Arnold looked at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Good. I’d like to see what she’s prepared.”

Two hours later, the celebration neared its end. It was time for the gifts.

Soft murmurs rippled through the crowd.

Brian’s phone buzzed several times in his pocket.

He pulled it out—still no message from Aurora.

He moved to a quiet corner and called her.

“The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…”

He called again. And again.

The mechanical voice repeated endlessly,

as if reminding him that she was truly gone.

Just then, the doors of the banquet hall opened.

A courier walked in, holding several packages with a nervous look.

“Excuse me, is there an Arnold Hudson here?

These deliveries are for you. The sender’s name is… Aurora Wilson.”

The entire hall fell silent in shock.

Arnold slowly stood and took the first package.

When he opened it, inside was an embroidered silk tapestry.

Threads of gold and silver intertwined to form a magnificent “Blessing of a Hundred Deities.”

Each stitch was meticulous.

It was Aurora’s most renowned craft and the piece she had once promised to make by hand as a blessing for the family elder.

“This girl…” Arnold’s eyes reddened. “She put her heart into this.”

He opened the second package.

Inside was a box of old jewelry the heirloom pieces once worn by his late wife when she married into the Hudson family.

The room grew utterly still.

Everyone understood: a woman returning the family heirlooms

meant she was severing ties completely.

Brian’s face grew darker by the second.

He stepped forward, his fingers trembling as he tore open the third package.