I was sitting on the bench in the back garden, letting the afternoon breeze cool my skin when the sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

"What are you doing out here alone?" Archie’s voice was light, almost as though nothing had ever happened between us.

I shrugged, keeping my gaze fixed ahead. "Just needed some fresh air."

He nodded slowly before settling beside me, cradling a tiny baby wrapped snugly in a blue blanket.

"I hope you don’t mind me bringing him along," he said, offering a small smile. "He’s still too little to be left on his own."

I turned my head slightly, feigning curiosity as I regarded the sleeping infant. "Whose baby is this?" My tone was deliberately flat.

Archie hesitated before finally answering, "An acquaintance’s… He couldn’t take care of him, so I was considering adopting him."

I glanced at him then, arching a brow. "Adopt him?"

He nodded, his expression growing serious. "Yes, Wendy. His name is Zac. I know losing our baby was devastating for you. I felt it too." His voice softened, as though he were carefully choosing his words. "But maybe this is a second chance for us. We could raise him together—as our own child."

I looked at the baby, then back at him. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yes," Archie said with quiet conviction. "He needs a family, Wendy. And I think we could be good parents to him."

I suppressed the cold smile that threatened to form on my lips. Did he really think I wouldn’t see through this? That I would blindly accept a child—his child—without questioning its origins? How stupid did he think I was?

I let out a soft sigh, pretending to waver. "I don’t know, Archie… Adopting a child is a big decision. I need time to think."

His expression softened, as though he truly believed I was considering it. "I understand. I don’t want to pressure you," he said gently. "But I do think this could be a new beginning for us."

A new beginning.

I lowered my gaze, masking the chill in my heart behind a thoughtful façade. If he thought I would fall for his game, he was sorely mistaken.

Sunday

The towering glass façade of Ravenwood Law reflected the golden hues of the late afternoon sun as

I stood before it, my resolve solidified. Today, I was filing for divorce from Archie Knight.

I stared at the entrance, my breath steady yet weighted. For too many years, I had allowed myself to be a fool, trapped in a marriage that had been nothing more than a carefully constructed illusion. But no more. If Archie had chosen his path with Claire, then I would carve out my own.

With purposeful steps, I entered the building, my heels clicking against the polished floor of the near-empty lobby. The receptionist directed me upstairs, leading me to an office at the end of a long, cool-toned corridor. The air-conditioning was crisp, but it did nothing to quell the fire in my chest.

I took a seat in a sleek leather chair, my hands clasped in my lap, fingers curled into fists. It wasn’t long before the door opened, and a man stepped inside, a file in hand.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Knight," came his deep, measured voice.

I turned towards him—and felt the ground shift beneath me.

Leon Aldrich.

For a moment, the world around me blurred. I knew him. Not just as a lawyer. He was someone from my past. Someone from a time before my life had become entangled with Archie Knight.

His gaze flickered with recognition, but it was brief—quickly replaced with the cool professionalism he had always exuded. He pulled out a chair across from me, placing the file on the desk before him.

"It’s been a long time," he said, his tone quieter now. "I never expected you to walk into my office as a client."

I swallowed, willing my emotions into submission. "I didn’t expect to see you here either."

Leon studied me for a moment, as though searching for something beneath the mask I wore. "So, you want to file for divorce from Archie?"

I straightened my spine. "Yes. I can’t continue in this marriage any longer."

His expression remained unreadable. "Are there specific terms you want to include in the settlement? Asset division? Custody arrangements?"

I exhaled slowly. "I don’t want anything from Archie. I just want to walk away."

Leon frowned. "No claim on the estate? Wendy, you do realise who your husband is. You know he won’t let this end quietly."

I met his gaze, unwavering. "I’m ready for whatever comes."

He studied me for a beat before allowing a small, knowing smile to ghost across his lips. "You haven’t changed. Still as stubborn as ever."

A humourless chuckle escaped me. "And you’re still the same. Always able to see straight through me."

Leon’s gaze lingered a moment longer before he sighed, leaning back slightly. "Very well. I’ll handle everything."

He picked up a pen, flipping through the documents in front of him with the same precision I remembered from years ago. His sharp eyes scanned the legal text—the papers that would officially sever my ties to Archie Knight.

"Tell me everything I need to know, Wendy," he said, his voice calm but firm. "The more I know, the better I can protect you."

I bit my lip, hesitating before speaking. "I want this over as quickly as possible, Leon. I don’t care about the money, the properties—any of it. I just want to be free."

His eyes darkened slightly. "Are you sure? You’ve given years of your life to this marriage. Don’t let him dictate how it ends."

I shook my head. "There’s nothing to fight for, Leon. It was all an illusion."

He let out a slow breath, closing the file momentarily.

"Alright. But you do realise Archie won’t let this go easily. He’ll either try to hold onto you—or make your life hell for trying to leave."

I had no doubt about that. Archie never relinquished control willingly.

"I’m prepared," I said firmly. "No matter what he does, I won’t change my mind."

Leon studied me once more before nodding. "Then we’ll begin immediately."

He slid a document across the desk, placing a pen beside it. "Sign here. This is the formal petition for divorce."

I took the pen, my fingers trembling ever so slightly. Not out of fear or hesitation, but because this was it—the moment I was finally taking control of my own life.

With a deep breath, I signed my name.

Leon took the paper back, glancing at my signature before meeting my eyes. "You’ve just taken the first step, Wendy."

I nodded. "I know."

Something flickered in his gaze—an unreadable emotion he quickly concealed. I ignored it, focusing instead on the weight lifting from my chest.

"Is there anything else you want me to arrange?" Leon asked, his voice quieter now, as though sensing the storm still brewing within me.

I met his eyes, my resolve hardening. "Yes," I murmured. "I want a new identity. I don’t want Archie to ever find Wendy Clark again."

Leon’s brows lifted slightly, but he masked his surprise well. And then, after a brief pause, he nodded. A silent promise that my request would be granted.

A slow, knowing smile played at his lips. "Welcome to your new beginning, Wendy."

I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding.

Yes. This was a new beginning.

And I would never look back again.

My steps halted in the doorway, my chest tightening at the sight before me. Archie sat on the sofa with a woman beside him—Claire. The very woman who had torn my household apart.

I shouldn't have been surprised. I knew this would happen. Yet, seeing it with my own eyes made my heart feel as though it were being crushed.

Claire sat gracefully, her sweet smile unwavering, as if she had done nothing wrong. In her arms, she cradled a baby—a baby that wasn’t just any child. It was Archie's. The child of the man who was still my husband.

As my gaze met Archie's, I saw the shock in his eyes. He immediately stood up and approached me, attempting to act as though this situation were entirely normal.

"Wendy, where have you been?" His tone carried a hint of irritation, yet his lips still curled into a smile, as if everything was perfectly fine.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t even want to acknowledge him at that moment.

Instead, my attention shifted to Claire, taking note of the way she looked at me—an expression difficult to decipher. There was pride in her eyes, as though she had just won something.

Archie, noticing where my gaze had landed, quickly spoke.

"Oh! Claire has just returned from Scotland," he said in a casual, almost excited tone. "She's here to see our son."

Our son.

The words echoed in my mind.

"That’s not our son, Archie," I said firmly.

Both Archie and Claire appeared taken aback, exchanging glances.

Before Archie could respond, I continued, "But if you want him to be part of this family, I don’t mind."

My words seemed to confuse them even further.

I didn’t care what they thought. I was done pretending.

I knew Archie wouldn’t find it easy to reveal Zac’s true identity.

"Welcome, Claire," I greeted her with a polite smile. "I hadn’t realised you were still in contact with my husband. Ah, I mean, your former lover—the one you left at the altar."

Claire’s smile faltered slightly, though she managed to maintain it. She gazed at me with that ever-pleasant expression, yet I could see something calculated lurking beneath.

"Yes, we’ve remained on good terms," she replied lightly. "Besides, weren’t we best friends before all that happened?"

Best friends, she said?

Yes, we had been. Archie, Claire, and I were once inseparable at school. Claire had always liked Archie, which had put a strain on our friendship. They had created their own world, shutting me out of it. And yet, fate had eventually made me part of Archie’s life instead.

And now, Claire had returned—after causing chaos at the wedding ceremony five years ago—acting as though she had done nothing wrong?

"Of course, I haven't forgotten," I said ambiguously. "If you want your world back, I'll gladly step aside."

Without waiting for a response, I stepped into my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. Pressing my back against it, I exhaled deeply, the tightness in my chest creeping back in.

Did they take me for a fool?

Did they truly believe I would welcome their child with open arms and love it as if it were my own? No. I would not waste my life. I would not waste a lifetime on them.

How could I love their baby when mine lay buried beneath the damp, dark earth?

Just as I was about to compose myself, my phone vibrated on the nightstand. I frowned as I saw Leon’s name flash across the screen.

[Tomorrow. Harvest Café. Nine o’clock. I’ve got what you need.]

My heart skipped a beat. He had done it.

A new identity.

An identity that would erase Wendy Clark from this world.

I hadn't objected when Archie asked me to settle Zac for his nap. Regardless of his origins, the baby was innocent. His presence was merely a tool for his selfish parents, and I couldn’t bring myself to hate him for that.

And yet, as I cradled him in my arms, I couldn't ignore the way my chest ached. Looking at Zac was like staring directly at their betrayal. At the night they had spent together, tangled in passion, exchanging whispered promises and sweat, conceiving the child now nestled in my embrace.

I had seen enough in the way Archie looked at Claire—so deeply, so reverently. The gaze that had once belonged to me was now hers entirely.

Soft footsteps approached, the sound of heels tapping against the marble floor in a careful, deliberate rhythm. I didn’t need to turn my head to know who it was.

"Wendy," a sweet voice greeted me.

I exhaled slowly, refusing to let her presence unnerve me.

Claire’s footsteps echoed closer, her stiletto heels clicking against the floor. Yet, she moved carefully—as if not wanting to wake Zac.

How motherly.

"I already know, Claire," I murmured, keeping my voice level. "There's no need to pretend anymore."

"Ah, Wendy," she sighed dramatically, though her cunning eyes never left mine. "Archie and I love each other. We were always meant to be together."

I let out a bitter laugh. "Is that so? Then why did you leave him at the blessing ceremony? Why drag me into this farce of a marriage, only to return years later acting as if nothing happened?"

Claire folded her arms across her chest, her expression unreadable.

"You should have realised by now, Wendy—you were never meant to be with Archie."

My grip on Zac tightened, but I remained composed.

"I never asked for him," I said. "It was you who left. You made this bed, Claire. Now, don’t act like you’re some innocent victim."

If Zac hadn’t been here, I would have screamed those words at her.

"Stop playing the victim?" Claire scoffed. "How could I, when you ruined my life? When you killed my father?"

I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "Me? Your father died in an accident, Claire. I had nothing to do with it."

Claire’s eyes burned with resentment. "He wouldn’t have been in that accident if not for your father’s ridiculous request!"

I closed my eyes, inhaling sharply.

The past came rushing back—years ago, when Claire and I had been young. When we had been friends. When our fathers had worked side by side at Grandfather James’ company—Archie’s grandfather.

I still didn’t understand where her hatred stemmed from. All because my father had made a request? Even though he, too, had died that day?

My father had been suffering from a rare disease. Claire’s father—his younger brother—had spent days searching for medicine across the city. But exhaustion took its toll. He never made it home.

And yet, Claire refused to see reason. She blamed me for everything.

"After making my father die, you took Archie away from me," she spat. "You took everything that was mine."

"I told you—I never took him from you!" My voice trembled with frustration. "And I didn’t kill your father! You need to stop blaming me for fate!"

Claire’s lips curled into a cruel smile.

"Fate?" she whispered. "Fate didn’t make my father get into that car that night. Fate didn’t make Archie fall for you instead of waiting for me."

I clenched my fists. "You left him. You made that choice."

Claire shrugged, then her expression darkened.

"But I’m back now," she said softly. "And I’m taking back what’s mine."

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

Zac stirred, whimpering in his sleep.

Before I could react, Claire turned towards the cot, her eyes glinting with something unreadable. She smiled, stroking his tiny hand. Then, without warning, she raised her voice.

"Please, Wendy, don’t!" she cried out, her tone laced with fear.

I blinked in shock.

"Wendy—how could you?!" Claire gasped dramatically. "You were trying to hurt Zac—!"

The room spun.

"What?" My voice came out hoarse, breathless. "Bloody hell, that’s not true!"

Claire stumbled back as if recoiling in horror. And then—

Footsteps thundered down the hall.

Archie burst through the door, eyes wild. He took in the scene—Zac crying, Claire’s stricken expression—and then turned to me.

"What the hell is going on?" His sharp gaze flickered between us.

Claire hiccupped, her tears flowing effortlessly. "I was just telling Wendy the truth," she sobbed. "But she—she got angry and tried to harm Zac. I tried to stop her, but she lashed out at me instead."

My stomach twisted. "What?!"

Archie’s expression darkened as he looked at his son’s red, wailing face.

"Wendy," his voice was low, dangerous. "Tell me Claire is lying."

I opened my mouth, my mind racing for words, for anything—but Zac’s cries only grew louder.

I saw it then. The way Archie’s jaw tightened. The way his eyes burned with suspicion.

And I knew—he had already made his choice.

His voice was ice when he spoke. "I can’t believe you, Wendy."

Tears pricked my eyes. "I didn’t do anything, Archie! You have to believe me!"

Archie laughed—a sharp, bitter sound.

"Believe you?" His gaze seared into me. "How many times have I believed you, Wendy? And what has it ever given me? You couldn’t even take care of your own pregnancy—when I was so looking forward to it!"

My breath hitched.

"You weren’t looking forward to it!" I snapped, my voice breaking. "You—you killed my son for him!"

A sharp crack filled the air.

Pain exploded across my cheek.

I stumbled back, my face burning. My hands trembled as I touched my skin, realising—Archie had just slapped me.

A stunned silence fell between us.

Archie exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "I can’t do this anymore," he murmured. "I won’t do this anymore. You always play the victim, Wendy. But maybe it’s time you realise—you were never the victim at all."

I stood frozen, tears blurring my vision.

But what truly shattered me—what drove the knife deeper into my chest—was what he did next.

He turned away.

Walked to Claire.

And as I watched, powerless, he reached out—stroking Zac’s head, his touch tender, affectionate.

A family.

Their family.

As if I had never even been part of his life at all.