We ended up at the same college.

She was the one who confessed first. She came to me.

It wasn't until we were together that I found out she was an heiress……

The day we graduated, we decided to stay together, but her family was fiercely against it.

Her sister especially looked down on someone like me, some nobody from an ordinary family. Ruby Henson's words dripped with contempt, and she didn't even bother hiding it in public, calling me a pretty boy who'd latched onto their wealth like a parasite.

But only Serena and I knew the truth.

What we had started as a pure friendship that grew into love. Through all of it, I had no idea she came from money.

That stretch of time broke something in me.

Serena, wanting to protect my feelings, defied her family. She snuck out their household documents and we got our marriage certificate in secret.

Her parents were furious when they found out. It wasn't until Serena showed them the pregnancy test results that they finally, grudgingly, accepted it.

But they never stopped looking down on me. Time after time I showed up with warmth and got nothing back but cold shoulders and cutting remarks. No matter how hard I tried, her family stripped me of every shred of dignity.

In the beginning, Serena would comfort me, encourage me.

But gradually, as the years passed, especially after the baby was born, she grew distant. The gap between us widened until I could barely see her on the other side, and then there was her assistant, with their relationship that neither of them could quite explain.

I tried so many times to close that distance, made myself softer, more attentive, more present.

None of it worked. If anything, it repelled her. She started picking me apart, finding fault in everything I did. Sometimes she'd hold Finn up like a mirror and point out all the ways I fell short, until there was nothing left of me worth mentioning.

Then my mother died in that hospital, and the last ember went cold.

That was when I finally understood. The pure feeling we once shared had been diluted by time until nothing recognizable remained. Whatever made us special to each other was gone.

The relationship had soured beyond saving. There was no reason to hold on.

I stayed up until well past eleven that night. The habit was old by now.

I didn't go back to our bedroom. I chose a clean break instead.

At this point, even sharing the same bed meant sleeping in different worlds.

The next morning, Serena and I opened our doors at almost the exact same moment, face to face across the hallway.

She looked at me, caught off guard for a second：“Why didn't you come back to the room last night?”

“Do you really think there's a point?”

I asked.

Serena's expression hardened：“You're always so petty. You never even try to understand what I'm going through!”

“Right. I don't understand you.”

“When my mother was in the hospital, begging to see her grandson one last time!”

“When your assistant told me you'd fallen asleep at his place!”

“I've been racking my brain trying to figure out how to understand you! How to forgive you! But I've thought about it for so long, and I can't. I just can't!”

I turned and walked straight for the door. At the threshold, I stopped and looked back：“The divorce papers. Are you hiring a lawyer, or should I?”

Serena stood where she was, watching me in silence：“Do whatever you want!”

The weekend came.

I went to a law firm and had an attorney draft the divorce agreement.

When that was done, I drove back to the Henson residence.

I had the key out, ready to unlock the door, when I stopped.

Maybe I never wanted to set foot in this place again.

I pulled the key back and went home instead. My real home.

The house was hollow. After my mother passed, I was the only one left.

I pulled open a drawer and dug out a photograph from a few years back.

It was a picture of me, my mother, and my son. In it, my mother was beaming, her smile warm and gentle. But my boy wore a tight little frown, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.

My mother was the happiest person in the world when our son was born.

But the Hensons were too overbearing. They told my mother straight to her face that the boy would have no future in our family, so he would carry the Henson name, not Gilbert. Their Henson, not ours.

They took full control of his upbringing and education. My mother, his grandmother, was allowed to visit him once a month.

At first, even though she was hurt, she counted down the days until each visit. She lit up every time.

But as the boy grew older, the Hensons molded him into one of their own. He learned to worship wealth and look down on his grandmother for being poor.

I lost it over that. I slapped my son hard across the face.

And the entire Henson family closed ranks against me. They called me every name in the book, tore me apart from every angle.

Even Serena said to me：“You're blowing this way out of proportion. He didn't grow up with his grandmother. It's normal for him to be a little distant.”

My son had already been shaped beyond recognition by that family.

You become what surrounds you. Day after day of their influence, and he started pulling away from me too.

Maybe in his mind, it wasn't just his poor grandmother who embarrassed him. It was his poor father.

My mother had once been so proud that I'd married a beautiful, accomplished woman from a wealthy family. She bragged about it to everyone she knew.

But after our son was born, when she should have been happier than ever, the light in her went out.

Maybe it was the years of quiet misery that wore her down. Her illness didn't drag on long. She left this world far too soon……

One in the morning.

Serena called when she realized I hadn't come home：“Where are you? Why aren't you home?”

I kept my voice steady：“I went to a lawyer today. Had them draft the divorce papers.”

Silence on her end. Then, quietly：“Can we not do this? Please?”

Her words cut deeper than I expected.

I'd convinced myself I didn't care anymore.

But years of love don't just vanish because you decide they should.

People are messy like that. Full of contradictions.

I didn't answer her. I hung up.

A few days passed.

She called again, said her mother was having a birthday dinner and wanted me there.

I wasn't going to go.

But I looked at the divorce papers in my hand and changed my mind. One way or another, this needed to end.

I pulled up to the Henson residence again.

Every other time I'd stood in front of that mansion, a weight had settled over me.

Not this time.

Maybe it was the papers in my hand. They felt like a key. No more chains. No more bowing.

I arrived late.

The house was already packed with guests, all buzzing around Mrs. Henson, showering her with birthday wishes and gifts. The younger ones knelt to collect cash envelopes.

The moment I walked in,

the crowd parted.

I carried the divorce papers straight to Mrs. Henson.

Serena and her sister stood behind their mother. Finn was there too.

Mrs. Henson's expression soured the second she saw how late I was.

Same as always, she looked down at me and snapped：“Why are you so late? Do I even exist in your eyes?”

Serena stepped in from behind her mother, smoothing things over with a smile：“Mom, calm down. I'm sure Clark was out getting you a gift. He probably wanted to surprise you. That's why he's late.”

Mrs. Henson's face relaxed a fraction. She said coolly：“What gift?”

I smiled faintly and held out the divorce papers：“This might be the best gift I've given you in all these years. I think you'll finally be satisfied.”

The moment Mrs. Henson saw the words DIVORCE AGREEMENT printed across the cover, the color drained from her face.

Every guest and relative in the room went dead silent, staring at me and Serena in open disbelief.

Serena's face turned white……