Patrick always said he liked me best when I was sensible and well-behaved.

I had always prioritized his feelings for everything. Even when I felt wronged or unhappy, as long as he coaxed me, I would quickly accept his gestures and let things go.

Just like now—he has lowered himself to make peace, fully expecting me to follow the path he laid out.

Forget it. I’m leaving soon to stay with my aunt abroad, and I don’t want to arouse his suspicion before then.

“The porridge is a little hot. Put it down; I’ll drink it later.”

Noticing the coldness in my tone, Patrick softened his voice. “Lora, you’re so thoughtful. I knew you were the most considerate.”

A short while later, Patrick received a phone call summoning him to the company. I didn’t need to guess who was behind it.

Before leaving, he kissed my forehead and said, “Be good. There’s something urgent at the company. Later tonight at the auction, I’ll pick out a piece of jewelry just for you and bring it home.”

After he left, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

It’s undeniable—we once truly loved each other. He did love me, but eventually, that love shifted to Christy.

He betrayed me, yet he clung to such a flimsy excuse, claiming Christy looked so much like me in the beginning.

I gazed around the wedding home where we had lived together for seven years, my heart heavy with bitterness.

The living room’s background wall displayed our photos—memories from the early days of our love, to our wedding, and our annual anniversary pictures.

Every year, we took a new photo together. Every year, except this one.

Our story had reached its end. It was time to part ways.

I sighed quietly, cut my image out of the group photos, and began packing my belongings.

I threw away my share of all the couple’s items scattered throughout the house.

Then, I signed the divorce agreement I’d had my lawyer prepare, placing it in a box alongside the abortion surgery report, and left it on the bedside table.

For good measure, I scheduled the screenshots of Christy’s social media posts and messages to be sent to Patrick’s email.

I had just sat down to rest when a new message from Christy popped up.

It included the time and location of the auction, along with a taunting line, “Do you dare to show up, old lady? Uncle said he’ll light a sky lantern for love tonight!”

That evening, I arrived at the auction right on time.

I hadn’t planned to go—the flight to New Zealand was scheduled for tonight.

I was about to leave everything behind. Why should I let a child’s petty provocation bother me?

Christy sent me the jewelry catalog for tonight's auction, flaunting the world’s top yellow diamond necklace, the final item on the list. She was determined to claim it.

However, my attention was drawn to a piece by a new designer—a subtle and elegant brooch that perfectly suited my aunt’s daily style.

I decided to pick it up as a gift for her.

My aunt is the closest family I have. When my parents passed away during my childhood, she took care of me. Later, she moved to New Zealand to build a new life and wanted me to join her.

But at the time, I was deeply in love with Patrick. She couldn’t convince me otherwise, so she let me stay in England.

How ironic that so-called “true love” proved so fleeting.

In just seven years, Patrick had shifted his affections to someone else.

When I arrived at the auction, the prime seats up front were almost entirely occupied.

I chose a spot in the last row, intending to leave once the auction concluded.

Patrick and Christy were seated in the middle, leaning close and laughing together.

Every so often, Christy glanced back, and when her gaze landed on me, her lips curled into a triumphant smirk.

Her expression was that of a proud little peacock, preening with arrogance.

The grand finale items of the auction are always presented last. Naturally, the brooch I wanted was listed earlier since its designer was not well-known.

I secured it at a reasonable price, and as I stood to leave, Christy’s saccharine voice called out from the front row, brimming with mischief, “Auntie, why leave after bidding on such a small piece? The best treasures are saved for last! You really shouldn’t miss the finale collection—it’s a true masterpiece!”

Her clear, sweet tone turned heads, drawing attention to me. Christy’s triumphant smile glimmered as if she had won a battle.

I mirrored her smile calmly. At eighteen, one should be bold, radiant, and unafraid. No wonder Patrick is captivated.

Even I couldn’t help but admire such a vibrant, youthful girl.

Patrick affectionately patted her head, signaling her to quiet down.

Then, out of curiosity, he turned to see who had caught the attention of his beloved.

The moment his eyes landed on me, his expression faltered—cycling rapidly through surprise, guilt, and anger.

It was the first time I’d ever seen someone wear such a peculiar mix of emotions all at once.

The room was filled with familiar faces, all part of Patrick’s social circle—old acquaintances who had once greeted me warmly at countless gatherings.

Christy’s crisp voice made it impossible for Patrick to ignore me.

Under the gaze of everyone, he had no choice but to gesture for someone to lead me to the seat beside him.

Patrick gave a slight nod toward Christy, motioning for her to take the empty seat in the back row. She stood up angrily, her eyes burning with tears.

“I don’t want to! We agreed tonight…”

“Go sit in the back! Christy, I’m not asking again!”

Christy bit her lip tightly, struggling to hold back her tears.

I gently placed my hand on Patrick’s arm.

“Forget it. Don’t let her feel wronged. I’ve already bought something I like, so there’s no need to stay here any longer.”

Patrick frowned, his tone sharp with dissatisfaction.

“You are my wife. She’s just an assistant. What right does she have to feel wrong?”

The word "assistant" clearly cut deep into Christy’s pride. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stormed to the back row, sitting with a huff.

Patrick took my hand firmly, refusing to let me leave. He insisted I stay.

I could feel Christy’s gaze burning into my back, but I chose not to turn around.

It wasn’t until the finale that Patrick successfully bid on the top yellow diamond necklace, just as he had planned.

Christy smiled triumphantly, turning toward him expectantly.

But Patrick didn’t even glance her way. Instead, he placed the necklace around my neck.

I opened my mouth to refuse, but he gently held my hand.

“Lora, you deserve the best.”

Christy turned around and stormed away angrily, while Patrick glanced after her from the corner of his eye.

His slightly furrowed brows and clenched fists betrayed his inner turmoil.

I smiled as I took off the necklace and handed it back to Patrick.

"Such a valuable piece should be kept in a bank safe."

Patrick was momentarily stunned, his brows relaxing slightly.

He held the necklace tightly, but before he could say anything, I continued.

"But I still want to thank you for the gift. In fact, I’ve prepared a surprise for you—it’s on the bedside table in the bedroom."

He hugged me tightly, stroking my back gently.

"Lora is the best. I can’t wait to see what the surprise is!"

As he held me close, his right foot subtly shifted towards the door.

The eager look in his eyes was nearly overflowing, and I could see how anxious he was to soothe Christy.

I smiled silently.

"If there’s something urgent at the company, go handle it!"

Patrick looked at me gratefully before quickly leaving with the jewelry box.

I then climbed into the online taxi I had booked, driving swiftly toward the airport.

Patrick’s black Maybach sped past my car window, and I watched it disappear in the distance.

Patrick, goodbye.

Never again.