James had married me only to stop me from interfering with Morgan, so that Morgan and Cassandra could be together.

It was ridiculous. Years of what I had believed was a happy marriage had been nothing but an illusion.

Looking down at the pastries in my hands, I suddenly lost all appetite. "I'm not hungry."

Just as I was about to set them aside, James reached out to stop me. "What's wrong, darling? Are you upset because I saved Cassandra before you that day? I'm sorry. I truly made a mistake. I didn't realize it at the time. That's why I went for her first."

James's apology sounded sincere, but all I felt was a hollow ache.

A mistake? Really?

Even if he had saved the wrong person, what about that kiss underwater with Cassandra? Was that a mistake too?

I realized I had been deceiving myself for far too long.

I forced a bitter smile. "Yeah, I understand."

Thinking he had soothed me, James relaxed and said gently, "What do you want to eat? I'll have the chef make it for you."

He pulled out his phone to call the chef, but then his expression shifted slightly as if he had noticed something. "Darling, something urgent came up at work. I'll come back later. Tell my assistant what you want, and he'll bring it to you."

Before I could protest, he left in a rush.

The moment he was gone, Cassandra sent me a message. "Follow him. There's a surprise for you!"

My subconscious screamed that going would only lead to heartbreak, yet I couldn't resist and took a cab to follow him.

As expected, James went straight to Cassandra.

The door wasn't fully closed, and I could see everything through the crack.

On the couch, James held Cassandra's hand delicately. She had a tiny cut, but he looked like it hurt him more than her. "How could something as simple as cutting an apple end up hurting you?"

He fetched a first-aid kit, carefully cleaned and bandaged the cut, and even started peeling an apple for her. "What would you do without me?" he said helplessly.

Those were the same words he had always said to me, but now they were meant for Cassandra.

Even knowing that our marriage had been a lie, watching him treat someone else with such tenderness made my chest tighten painfully.

Cassandra pulled her hand back, pretending to resist. "James, Elsa is your wife. You shouldn't be taking care of me. She deserves your love more than I do…"

James held her hand firmly. "She'll never find out. I've kept it a secret all these years. I just want to protect you and spend more time with you… By the way, I got those Ashville pastries you wanted—your favorite, chocolate-filled."

He produced an elegant gift box, packed full of pastries.

My eyes stung.

He had bought two sets. Cassandra's was in the fancy gift box, while mine had come in a plain takeout container. Clearly, mine had been an afterthought.

In his heart, I wasn't even a replacement for Cassandra—maybe not even that.

Before I could fully process it, James cupped Cassandra's face and leaned in to kiss her. She initially pretended to resist, but gradually gave in, and they kissed with a passion that refused to break.

My heart felt like it had been pierced straight through by a blade, the pain so sharp it stole my breath. I clamped both hands over my mouth, forcing myself not to cry.

I couldn't bring myself to keep watching, so I turned and ran. Unfortunately, I slipped in the process and crashed to the ground, eating a mouthful of snow while my skin tore open and blood flowed freely from the wound.

The searing pain finally broke the dam. All the grievances I had bottled up over the past few days surged out at once, and my tears fell in heavy drops.

After I cried until I had nothing left, I dragged my exhausted body back to the hospital.

Not long after, James rushed in. "Darling, my assistant said he couldn't find you when he came to bring your meal. Where did you go? Don't scare me. I'll lose my mind if I can't find you."

Would he really?

I glanced at the scratch marks on his chest and felt nothing but irony.

Looking away, I replied calmly, "I felt suffocated, so I went out to watch the snowfall for a bit."

Only then did James notice my reddened eyes. "Why are you crying? This is my fault. I've been too busy with work and ended up hurting you. Our fifth wedding anniversary is in three days. I'll throw you a grand celebration then and make it up to you properly, alright?"

I smiled when I heard that.

James took it as forgiveness and smiled back. What he didn't know was that I was smiling because three days later happened to be the day I had scheduled my staged death.

When the time came, I would give him a surprise he would never forget.

…

The next day, I checked out of the hospital. James drove me home.

As I got into the passenger seat, I immediately felt something was off. The seat was lower than usual.

When I looked closer, it had indeed been adjusted downward. That was when I noticed strands of brown hair tangled around the seatback.

My hair was blonde, while Cassandra's was brown. She was also half a head shorter than I was.

Evidently, she had been sitting there.

James noticed my pause and looked where I was staring. When his eyes fell on the brown hair I held, they twitched for a moment before settling back into calm.

"Darling, don't get the wrong idea. Morgan is away on a business trip. Before leaving, he asked me to look after Cassandra, so I've been driving her to and from work. That's why there's some hair left behind."

Hearing that only made my heart grow colder.

He had once told me this seat belonged to me alone and that no one else was allowed to touch it.

There had even been a time when a scheming coworker tried to use the chance to get close to James and sat in the passenger seat before I did. James had kicked her out without hesitation and said, "This seat is for my wife only."

And yet, he let Cassandra sit there, abandoning the rule he had strictly followed for me.

If he genuinely wanted to avoid suspicion, he could have sent a cab for her. Instead, he drove her himself and allowed her to take the passenger seat that had always belonged to me.

On top of that, two cartoon figurines sat pressed together on the dashboard in front of James's seat, marked with the initials JL and CW.

Cassandra had quietly taken my place, making herself the woman of this car without me even realizing it. I swallowed the bitterness rising in my chest and quietly fastened my seat belt, pretending nothing had happened.

I would be leaving soon, and whatever affection James and Cassandra shared was no longer my concern.

Maybe because I had been unusually quiet, James kept trying to strike up a conversation, but I replied curtly every time.

Not long after, his phone rang.

He deliberately angled himself away while replying, but through the reflection on the car window, I still caught a glimpse of the screen.

Sure enough, Cassandra's bunny avatar appeared the moment I looked.

"James, a pipe burst at home, and I'm soaked. Can you come over?"

After reading the message, his throat bobbed visibly. Mindful that I was still there, he quickly turned off his phone and smiled at me, trying to cover up the flash of guilt in his eyes.

From then on, his mind was clearly elsewhere. He nearly ran a red light more than once.

Halfway through the drive, he suddenly slammed on the brakes and looked at me with an apologetic expression. "Darling, something urgent came up at the company. Why don't you take a cab home first? I'll come back to keep you company once I'm done, okay?"

It sounded like a question, but he clearly was not offering me a second option.

Before I could respond, he had already opened the door, helped me out onto the roadside, and sped off in a hurry.

As the exhaust faded into the distance, I felt a bitterness that I couldn't put into words.

James must have forgotten that this was the outskirts of town. With the snow falling, there was no way to get a cab.

I had once believed he was my salvation.

After all, he had broken three ribs fighting for me. He had drunk himself into a stomach bleed to shield me from alcohol. He remembered every one of my cycles. His social media was filled with nothing but me.

Even his friends mocked him for being hopelessly devoted to me alone.

I never imagined that my savior would become the one who pushed me back into the abyss.

Everything that happened in the pool that day had been Cassandra's setup. She pulled me under and screamed that I had pushed her.

I thrashed in the water, trying to explain myself over and over, but all I got in response was James's icy stare and the determined look on his face as he swam straight toward Cassandra.

His betrayal cut deeper than even Morgan's indifferent rejection ever had.

With no way to get a cab, I was forced to trudge home through the biting wind and falling snow.

…

The moment I got home, Cassandra sent me a private message.

There were countless photos of James asleep, along with all kinds of intimate pictures of the two of them. "Elsa, so what if you're pretty? A substitute is still just a substitute. You only deserve whatever scraps I don't want."

Her every word dripped with provocation.

Even though I had braced myself, actually seeing those photos still made my eyes burn red as a wave of grief swallowed me whole.

I forced myself to look through every message Cassandra sent. After rubbing my aching eyes, I turned off my phone and went inside to pack.

There was a lot to deal with. It took me two full hours to finish sorting everything.

In the end, I packed only a few changes of clothes into my suitcase. Everything else went straight into the fire pit.

Among the items were ninety-nine handwritten love letters he had written for me. Even in the raw, unpolished scrawl, his love shone through. There were also the Elarian pearls he had spent a fortune winning at auction, meant to symbolize a lifetime together.

…

After that, I lit the fire and burned everything to ash.

Since I was going to fake my death and leave James, I would erase every trace of myself from this place.