The moon had been high all along—it simply never shone on me.

At least nature holds everyone, even the ones no one else will.

I went to East Africa and watched the wildebeest migration. To Hokkaido, where the red leaves drifted down. To New Zealand, where fields of lupins stretched across every hillside.

The last stop was Norway.

The aurora looked alive, drifting through the night sky like spirits.

In the perfect silence, the only sound I could hear was the hammering of my own heart.

So watching the Northern Lights alone could be romantic too.

I remembered the day his company went public. He'd bought a pair of diamond rings, the best he could afford at the time.

When he dropped to one knee and looked up at me, his eyes held an entire galaxy.

“I'll be richer soon. I'll trade these in for something bigger.”

“Maybe I won't be so busy then. I'll take you to Norway to see the Northern Lights you're always talking about. We'll have a belated destination wedding.”

“Our tenth anniversary. Deal?”

Now my shadow stretched across the snow, so alone it seemed to mock every word he'd ever said.

I took a photo and posted it to my feed.

【Be your own light. Stop chasing someone else's.】

I scrolled down. Winston, who had never once posted about me, had been posting constantly.

He wouldn't travel with me, but he'd flown April all over the world.

Under the Eiffel Tower. In the golden dusk of Prague's Old Town Square. On the canals of Venice……

Sweet couple photos from every stop.

The Van Cleef & Arpels limited-edition necklace at her throat glinted so bright it hurt to look at.

He'd bid nine million for that piece last month. Heritage Collection.

When the press asked about it, he said it was a gift for the woman he loved.

I'd believed he would clasp it around my neck himself on our tenth anniversary.

I was the only fool in the room.

The trip was almost over.

On my way back, I stopped to inspect one of the Pruitt family's hotels.

If I was going home, I should start getting familiar with the family business.

At check-in, the staff bowed with quiet deference.

“How long will you be staying, Miss Pruitt? Anything you need, just say the word.”

I didn't want to draw attention, so I told them to treat me like any other guest.

Even on an inspection trip, I wanted some peace and quiet.

I couldn't even have that.

Walking through the garden, I saw Winston and April.

A team of photographers surrounded them. They were taking wedding portraits.

He was carefully adjusting her veil, every movement carrying a tenderness I hadn't seen from him in years.

So it wasn't just a trip.

The belated destination wedding he'd promised me, he'd given to someone else.

When he noticed me, Winston's brow creased on instinct.

“I said I'd take you next time. What are you doing here—following me?”

“We're divorced. Stay in your lane.”

Before I could speak, April tugged his sleeve, her voice soft and sweet. “Baby, don't be so harsh.”

“I can't decide on my next dress anyway. Let Lottie help me pick?”

His expression eased. He nodded. “Fine. Her eye's not bad.”

When they handed me the tablet with the design sketches, my hand shook so badly I nearly dropped it.

Both dresses were ones I had designed when I was young, back when we'd barely been together.

I was still the starry-eyed Pruitt princess, head full of daydreams.

Dreaming about the wedding. Dreaming about the dress. Dreaming about the life we'd build together.

When my family found out about the relationship, my parents, who cared deeply about pedigree, refused outright.

They never imagined their obedient daughter would run away from home for a penniless orphan.

But they didn't understand.

He wrote me an entire notebook of love poems.

He pinned the classmate who said filthy things about me to the ground and beat him bloody.

He saved three months' wages to buy a stuffed animal I'd mentioned once in passing.

He'd thrown himself at a pack of street thugs bare-handed when they cornered me—walked away soaked in his own blood.

The doctor said another inch to the left on that chest wound and nothing could have saved him.

That was how hard a boy could love, and it burned through every wall I had.

My parents washed their hands of me, told the world they no longer had a daughter.

After that we were too busy scraping by—hustling for money, hustling to survive.

Then the business found its footing.

He got busy cheating. I got busy catching him.

Round after round, and the wedding we'd promised each other never materialized.

The two gown designs I'd sketched were shoved in a drawer, a promise that never came due.

Now they'd become another woman's bridal dress.

I looked him in the eye.

“Winston, I designed that dress.”

He went still for a beat, then cocked an eyebrow. “Name your price.”

My nails dug into my palms. My voice came out raw. “You can't just swap one for the other.”

“What's so special about them?” His hands stayed in his pockets, his tone already bored. “If April didn't like the design, they'd be scrap paper.”

I actually laughed.

I had no idea his memory was this short.

Every promise, every wish, every shred of love—gone.

All those years of money and nightlife and excess had worked like a pickpocket, lifting away the Winston who once had eyes for nothing but me.

“Don't fight over me—……”

April clamped a hand over her mouth, face going white, and gagged.

His expression changed instantly. He unscrewed the cap of a thermos with practiced ease and brought it to her lips.

“Tired?” He rubbed her belly gently. “We're done for today. You and Leo both need rest.”

He lifted her carefully into his arms and left without a single glance back at me.

I stood frozen, cold to the bone.

Leo.

That was the name of our first child.

After the miscarriage, the guilt wouldn't let me go. I lay awake night after night, turning it over and over until I could barely hold myself together.

Winston knelt before the Buddha for seven straight days and copied the Rebirth Mantra a hundred times just to earn that name.

“May he come and go without sorrow, and dwell always in joy.”

The perpetual memorial lamp inscribed with our child's name still burned at Mercy Haven Temple.

And he'd handed that name to another woman like it weighed nothing at all.

What an absurd life this was.

One of the staff must have read my face. She stepped closer, voice low. ：“Miss Pruitt, shall we bar them from the property?”

I took a long breath.

“No need.”

Let them savor whatever warmth they have left. Dawn was coming.

The trip was over.

I came home. The new locks were untouched.

Winston was too busy taking his new woman around the world to bother with the “marital home.”

I laughed at that, and kept laughing until my throat went tight.

I remembered how he'd barged into the Pruitt house and dropped to his knees in front of my parents.

“Sir, ma'am—please, give Lottie to me.”

“Unless I'm dead, I will never betray her.”

My parents didn't believe him. I did.

I turned my back on everything and gave all I had to build a life with him.

Every single thing in this house, we'd chosen together.

The floor mat from a secondhand market. The TV stand he'd built by hand. The sofa throw I'd crocheted stitch by stitch.

Even after we had money, we never moved.

I'd been so certain that when he said forever, he meant forever. He didn't.

His heart had been worn down by the years, corroded from the inside. And when I finally cracked it open, there was nothing left—rotten all the way through.

The exhaustion hit me like a wall.

I called a realtor that same hour and told them to sell the house. I packed the 100 urns and shipped them out, then cleared everything else down to bare walls.

When it was done, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out.

I looked back one last time, sure I would ache.

But when the moment came, all I felt was relief.

I checked into a hotel my family owned and called a lawyer about splitting the assets.

Winston's messages came in an endless barrage.

“Why did you sell the house?”

“You're still pregnant. Where do you think you're going to go?”

“Stop throwing a tantrum. You have no family, no friends. You can't be comfortable out there on your own.”

“Come to the villa in the south side. The maternity nurse is already here. You and April can rest together.”

I didn't reply to a single one.

Once everything was in order, I went to Mercy Haven Temple.

It's a sad thing to say.

My first child was lost in an accident.

My second, I couldn't bear to bring into a broken home.

Maybe I was simply never meant to be a mother in this life.

But they were here, even if only for a little while. They deserved to be sent off right.

I wanted to add incense money for my first child, and light a memorial lantern for the second.

But when I reached the prayer hall, Leo's perpetual memorial lamp was gone.

The monk told me Winston had it removed.

It felt like something ripped open in my chest, and cold poured straight through me until I couldn't stop shaking.

That lamp was supposed to burn for ten years.

When I first lost Leo, I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I even cut my wrists.

Until the perpetual memorial lamp was lit.

He told me that if it burned for ten full years, Leo would be blessed with peace and pass on into paradise.

He also said that only when the mother is safe can the child rest easy.

For the sake of those ten years, I put the blade down and tried to keep living.

But with two years still left, he snuffed the flame out himself.

I walked out of the prayer hall like a ghost.

And the first thing I saw was Winston, his arm around April, her belly just beginning to show.

“Honey, thank you for bringing me and the baby here to pray.”

He glanced down at her. “What's there to thank? You and Leo staying safe—that's what matters.”

Leo. He still dared to use that name.

I rushed at him and slapped him across the face as hard as I could.

Shock first, then instinct. He immediately pulled April behind him.

“Lottie, have you lost your mind?”

I clenched my teeth, fighting to keep my body from shaking apart.

“Why did you take down Leo's perpetual memorial lamp?”

April ducked out from behind him, reached up and touched the red mark blooming on his cheek, her face full of tender concern.

Then she turned and glared at me. “I asked him to. A dead baby sharing a name with my child? Disgusting. Bad luck.”

Rage shot straight to the top of my skull. I raised my hand to strike her, but he caught my wrist and shoved me back hard.

I hit the ground.

Something flickered in his eyes. He almost reached for me, then pulled his hand back.

“Look at yourself. Throwing a fit in front of everyone—do you have no shame?”

“Clinging to the past like this—what's the point? You've got a new child coming too. Move on.”

His gaze was flat and cold. He put his arm around April and turned away. “Go home and think about what you've done. Come find me when you've calmed down.”

“Either way, I'll make sure you and the child are taken care of.”

The last thread of old feeling ground to dust. I stared at their retreating backs, my fingernails digging into the stone until they nearly cracked.

Winston Farley, you will regret this.

I got to my feet, numb, and went back to the hotel alone.

A private jet was waiting on the rooftop.

“Miss Pruitt, I'm here to take you home.”

The jet climbed above the clouds, and the city shrank beneath me until it was nothing.

Whatever Winston and I had been, I buried it there.

……

Winston woke in the middle of the night.

April was sleeping soundly beside him, but all he could see was the look in Lottie's eyes at the end.

Calm. Empty. It hit him like a fist under the ribs, a panic he couldn't explain.

Sleep wouldn't come back. He got up early and drove to the office.

The access gate stopped him.

“Authorization error. Access denied.”