When Cecelia finally dragged herself home, it was already dark.

To her surprise, the lights were on in the living room. Francis was actually home.

When he saw her come home, he set down his tablet and got up to greet her. He reached out naturally to take her bag. "You're back. Why do you look so pale?"

She dodged his hand, her voice dry. "Where's Melody?"

Francis froze for a second, then explained, "Oh, Melody just got back from overseas. She said she didn't have anyone to go with her to a dinner event, and I happened to be free, so I went to give her a hand.

"Her new apartment still smells from the renovations, and staying in a hotel isn't convenient, so I let her stay at the villa in the countryside for a few days. You know, it's tough for her to be on her own, especially since she was a public figure…"

He trailed off, watching Cecelia for her reaction before adding, "Don't worry, it's only for a few days. She'll be gone soon."

"She's staying at the villa? In the countryside?" Cecelia's head snapped up, her voice trembling.

"That's our marital home, Francis! We picked it out together, decorated it together! You didn't even ask me before letting her stay there?"

Every piece of furniture and every detail carried her hopes and dreams for their marriage and future.

However, they bought a small apartment downtown for the sake of Francis's work. Cecelia had never complained, always willing to move back and forth for him.

And now, he had let another woman walk right in and take over the only place that still felt like home to her, just like that.

A flash of annoyance flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by deep disappointment.

"Melody's just staying in the guest room for a few days. We grew up together, and her family helped me a lot back then. Now that she needs help, of course I'm going to give her a hand. You don't have to be so jealous."

"Jealous?" Tears welled up in Cecilia's eyes, but she forced them back through sheer will. That sounded like the worst joke she had ever heard.

The cold that filled her heart spread to every part of her body, leaving even her fingertips numb.

She looked at this man who was once so familiar yet now so distant, and saw nothing but disappointment in his eyes.

It was as if she were the unreasonable and narrow-minded one. Every bit of anger, pain, and resentment was suspended in that look of his.

Cecelia didn't even have the strength to argue.

In his mind, even this little bit of emotion was a mistake.

The night grew late.

After his shower, Francis got into bed, thinking Cecelia was still angry at him. He pulled her into his arms from behind, trying to tease her in the sweet voice he always used. Suddenly, his phone lit up in the dark.

It was a call from Melody.

He quickly got out of bed.

Cecelia could vaguely hear his deliberately lowered but still gentle voice.

"Melody? What's wrong? The villa's too big and you're scared? Alright, don't worry, I'll come over right now…"

His footsteps faded, and the master bedroom door was quietly pushed open. He came over, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Cecelia's forehead, his breath warm.

"Something came up at work. I must go handle it. Don't wait up. Get some sleep."

He softly closed the door, and his footsteps faded into the distance.

In the darkness, Cecelia lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. That kiss on her forehead was still burning.

Her feelings as a wife, and even her existence, meant nothing before Melody.

Cecelia suddenly got up, then pulled out her suitcase. She didn't touch any of the expensive clothes or jewelry Francis had given her. She just packed her own things one by one, silently and carefully.

After she had finished, she put the suitcase in the closet. She then sat back down on the cold bed and waited for the sky outside the window to slowly turn bright.

The first light of morning crept through the heavy curtains. Francis hadn't come home all night.

Cecelia walked barefoot across the cold floor to the corner of the study, walking to a place she rarely entered, and stopped in front of Francis's safe.

Without thinking, she tried the date of Melody's birthday as the password.

Click.

The lock opened.

Her heart clenched, like she was torturing herself on purpose.

There was no cash inside the safe, just a single brown file folder and a photo album. Cecelia opened the folder first. It was an investigation report about her father's car accident.

As she skimmed the cold words on the paper, a few key lines stood out and seared into their mind.

"…Upon review, the driver's blood alcohol content far exceeded the threshold for driving under the influence…"

All the documents and evidence were there, complete.

Cecelia's fingers shook violently as she held the papers, her knuckles straining under the pressure. Francis had used his expertise and power to carefully fake evidence, clearing the real culprit of all criminal charges.

Melody, who was driving under the influence.

All just to protect the bright future of his precious childhood friend.

Before he died, her father had held Francis's hand, his eyes cloudy but full of hope. "Fran… I'm leaving Celia to you… Take care of her…for life…"

Francis had knelt by the bed, eyes red, his voice choked but determined. "Don't worry, sir! I swear, I'll protect her with my life. I will never let her down!"

The promise still echoed in her ears.

But the one he protected was the person who killed her father! The one he refused to let down was Melody!

The crash that stole her only family and changed her entire life was nothing but a problem that might affect the career of his so-called childhood friend.

A tidal wave of grief and absurdity swallowed Cecelia whole.

Her chest was cramped with pain as she held it tightly, but the taste of blood still filled her throat. She numbly copied and photographed every piece of evidence.

Then, she picked up the photo album from the safe and opened it. It was full of photos of Francis and Melody, from their school days up until now. In every photo, Melody leaned into Francis, her smile bright and happy.

The most recent one was from just last month, even. The background was a beach at a foreign resort. Melody wore a revealing bikini, arms wrapped around Francis's neck, planting a clear kiss on his cheek.

He didn't push her away or look annoyed. Rather, he had turned toward her slightly, lips forming a smile, his eyes filled with an indulgence Cecelia had never seen before.

Her heart felt like it was being pierced again and again, until all that was left was a gaping, frozen hole.

At this moment, every suspicion and every pain was confirmed in the cruelest way possible.

This home now felt like a prison.

Using the last of her strength, she went to her studio downtown. That was the only space left that was truly hers.

However, Cecelia had just sat down when a commotion broke out outside.

Through her studio's tall windows, Cecelia saw something absurd.

A dozen bodyguards in matching black suits and white gloves lined up neatly outside her studio door, each of them carefully holding a dust-cloth-covered item in their hands, obviously valuable.

The lead bodyguard knocked politely. Under Cecelia's cold gaze, he directed his team to place each item in the reception area. They lifted the cloths, revealing a collection of antiques from elite auction houses.

"Madam, Mr. Rivera asked us to bring these for you. He said he knows you didn't sleep well and have been in a bad mood, so he hopes these little trinkets will cheer you up," the bodyguard said, his tone stiff and formal.

The commotion drew everyone working on the same floor to come and watch.

"Oh my god! Isn't that the record-breaking porcelain bowl from Sotheby's last month? Mr. Rivera is going all out!"

"He's really spoiling her! All of this just because his wife's upset? What a perfect man!"

"Cecelia is so lucky! Mr. Rivera is handsome, rich, devoted, and romantic!"

"I'm so jealous! If my husband cared even a tenth as much…"

Standing among all these antiques, Cecelia felt nothing but bitter irony as she listened to the admiration and envy outside. Her face showed no emotion, and her eyes were as empty as the void.

Finally, she walked straight back to the door. With a bang, she shut it in front of all the stunned bodyguards and onlookers, locked it, and pulled the blinds.

The world fell instantly quiet.

Outside, the bodyguards hesitated before calling Francis.

As soon as Francis got the call, he cleared his schedule for the next few days and came home early.

Cecelia was sitting by the window, her figure so thin that she looked like she might be scattered by the wind.

"Celia." Francis softened his voice and walked over, trying to hug her from behind.

However, Cecelia quietly moved away.

His hand froze in the air before he sat on the single sofa next to her. "Are you still angry about last night? I just…"

"I miss my dad." Cecelia suddenly said, her voice was light as air.

Francis gulped, his voice unconsciously tight. "Your father… If he's watching from above, he would only want you to be happy. Don't overthink things."

Eager to change the subject, he quickly said, "Right, I booked a three-day trip on the Starocean Cruise, top-deck suite. Let's go together, get some fresh air, watch the sunrise, and leave all the bad memories behind."

He looked at her with expectation, almost a plea, though he didn't realize it himself. Cecelia turned to stare into the sky again, silent.

Francis took that as agreement.

-

The cruise ship sounded its horn and cut through the blue sea.

On the top deck, Francis's friends were already waiting.

When they saw Cecelia, they all put on exaggeratedly warm smiles.

"Celia! You finally made it! Fran's been so worried about you, his hair's about to go gray!"

One friend directed the staff to bring over several beautifully wrapped gift boxes.

"We heard you cleared out some things from home, and Fran was really upset. He had us search the city for the latest and best. Why don't you give it a look and see if there's anything else you need?"

The boxes glittered in the sunlight, so bright they strained Cecelia's eyes.