Afterward, whenever we were alone, he would hold me tighter than usual, burying his face in the crook of my neck and breathing me in deeply.

It was as if that was how he expressed the overwhelming love he couldn’t put into words.

That convinced me to forgive him.

After all, love didn’t need to be proven to others.

Maybe he just didn’t know how to say the words I love you.

But when he faced the camera, holding another woman’s hand, he looked so sure—so full of affection.

Who said Jayden didn’t know how to woo a woman?

He knew far too well.

I lay still in our bed, staring as the sunlight gradually filled the room.

Later, once again, the sound of a car echoed in the courtyard.

Not long after, I heard a woman’s voice.

“Jayden, is this really okay? Won’t Cordelia be angry? You’re married, after all.”

“My home is your home. That has nothing to do with my marriage.”

Then came the sound of the woman laughing freely.

They must’ve started a house tour because I heard the sound of their footsteps moving back and forth.

“Get some rest,” he said. “From now on, treat this place as your own home.”

“Alright.”

The door opened.

When he saw me sitting up in bed, fully awake, his steps only faltered slightly.

“You’re up,” he said. “Good. I was just about to talk to you.”

I stared coldly at his shirt—rumpled, clearly the same one he had been wearing when he left last night.

Every wrinkle felt like a mocking reminder of how easily my so-called love had been crushed.

“Jayden,” I said quietly, “this isn’t just your home. It’s mine too.”

He let out a sigh.

“Ivy has nowhere to go right now. Let her stay here for the time being.”

“Absolutely not.”

His brows creased. His usually gentle face now carried a sharp edge, leaving no room for argument.

“Cordelia, I’m not asking for your permission.”

I forced a smile through the sting in my chest.

“So you let her move in today. What next? Share a room with her tomorrow?” I asked, my anger rising despite my efforts to stay composed.

The next second, I snapped, “Why not just buy another place next door? That way, when the two of you are basking in your affection, I won’t be in the way!”

The colder his gaze became, the heavier my heart sank.

Just as the tension between us peaked, a delicate voice chimed in from behind him. “Jayden, don’t fight with Cordelia because of me.”

“I know she still holds resentment toward me,” she continued. “I made mistakes when I was young and foolish. It’s understandable that she can’t forgive me. Don’t ruin your marriage over me.”

“If it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay at a hotel instead,” she insisted. “It’s all the same to me.”

She walked in with graceful poise, as if the trauma she caused me was just a fleeting inconvenience, easily brushed aside.

Worse still, she played the part of the generous, understanding woman—giving him a way out, making herself look considerate.

Maybe my stare was too cold because tears welled up in Ivy’s eyes as she moved a little closer to the man beside her.

And my husband—this aloof, intellectual man—wrapped his hand around her frail shoulder.

“Cordelia,” he said, “try to be more like Ivy. Don’t make things harder for me.”

I responded by slamming the bedroom door so hard it shook the walls.

But even that couldn’t stop the fact that Ivy had moved into my home.

As I leaned against the door, crying in silence, I heard her voice again from outside.

“I’m sorry, Jayden.”

He laughed softly. “It’s you who’s been wronged. I’m sorry. I’ll handle things with Cordelia.”

“It’s all my fault…” she murmured.

Their voices grew fainter as they walked away together.

I collapsed to the floor, suddenly realizing just how badly my hands were trembling.

Turns out, deep down, I had never really gotten over the damage Ivy caused me.

Just the sight of her raising her hand ever so slightly—was enough to send a wave of fear straight through my chest.

That feeling was like a lake deep enough to drown me—bottomless, silent, and still.

I took a deep breath and locked the door behind me before starting to pack my things.

From outside came a knock, followed by the sound of someone turning the doorknob—I’d almost forgotten Jayden had keys to every room in the house.

When he saw me packing, he didn’t look surprised. But his voice softened slightly.

“Cordelia, please listen to me.”

“Ivy said the wrong thing during a livestream and offended someone. The place she’s staying at isn’t safe now. She and I grew up together—I can’t just stand by and do nothing.”

“You’ve always been kind and understanding. Even if you can’t forgive her, surely you can understand me, can’t you?”

My eyes reddened.

“Jayden. Do you really think everything that happened back then can just be erased?”

He paused for a moment and lowered his head.

“I believe you were truly hurt by her…” he answered. “But I also believe she must’ve had her reasons.”

He looked at me then, trying to reason it all away. “You’re doing better than she is now. You’re my wife. You’ve already won.”

His expectant gaze lingered on me. “So please, don’t bring it up again, okay?”

The room fell into absolute silence.

I could hear the sound of my tears hitting the floor—and with it, I lost all will to talk to him.

Seeing me remain quiet as I continued to pack, he let out a sigh.

“I have to go to work now. I hope when I get back… you’ll still be here waiting for me.”

With that, he left the room.

I closed my eyes, sealing away my tears—and along with them, the question I’d been holding in my heart.

‘Jayden, what do you really see me as? A proper, dignified, legal wife—someone I should be grateful to become?’

There was a time when I found it hard to believe people like Jayden and Ivy could even be friends.

He was like a rainbow—how could someone like that grow up hand-in-hand with a girl who could dull someone’s peace?

Now I think I understand. They’re so close because there’s something the same in them.

Kindred spirits, connected at the soul.

I called a moving company.

I had everything that belonged to me packed up and taken away.

The noise must’ve been loud because it disturbed Ivy, who had been resting.

Not far off, she leaned against the second-floor railing, a sultry smile on her face, one hand holding a lit cigarette.

She looked nothing like she had the day before when she stood quietly by Jayden’s side.

“Giving up already?” She scoffed. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

She was wearing a low-cut, high-slit camisole nightdress that made the movers steal glances at her again and again.

When I ignored her, she only grew more smug.

“I just said someone threatened me, and he got all worked up,” she remarked with a shrug.

A grin tugged at her lips. “I mean seriously, Cordelia, you’re so pathetic. I gave you that man for years, and you still couldn’t keep him? That’s honestly hilarious.”

She glanced at the movers collecting my things. Then, she rolled her eyes at me. “You think if you leave, Jayden’s heart will go with you?”

“Please,” she added with a laugh, her tone thick with contempt. “This is the best you can do.”

I looked at her coldly.

“If you’re so capable,” I retorted, “why didn’t Jayden marry you back then?”

Her smile twisted ever so slightly.

And I smiled too—I knew, deep down, Jayden would never marry her.

A woman with a criminal record and nothing but looks to her name?

Jayden was a rational, ambitious man. I knew that better than anyone.

He might throw himself into the fire for her—but make her his wife? Not in a million years.

I stopped paying attention to her. I watched as the movers loaded the last of my belongings onto the truck.

Just as I was about to leave, something heavy struck the back of my head.

A loud shattering followed—the sound of a vase hitting the floor.

A wave of buzzing and blinding pain overtook me. Stunned, I turned around.

There she was, standing upstairs.

A porcelain vase that had been placed in the hallway now lay in shards at my feet.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry, Cordelia!” Ivy exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to knock over the vase and hit you. You’re not mad, are you?”

“Oh my god!” She gasped. “You’re bleeding!”

She came down the stairs, lifting the hem of her dress, and stood in front of me, frowning with exaggerated concern.

“Oh right,” she drawled, “I forgot to ask earlier. Do the wounds still hurt? Do you still remember the smell of the toilet water in the girls’ restroom back in our second year of high school—”

My whole body trembled as I used all my strength to slap her across the face, the sound echoing.

She didn’t even flinch. Just a flash of triumph flickered in her eyes.

I couldn’t stop shaking—part of it was fear, the rest was fury.

In the end, the moving truck never left; Jayden came home.

The look in his eyes was full of disappointment.

Even the blood trickling from the back of my neck didn’t stir the slightest trace of sympathy from him.

“You’re being completely unreasonable, Cordelia!” he snapped.

“If you really want to leave, then go,” he continued flatly. “I won’t stop you anymore.”

My vision dimmed slightly.

“Jayden,” I said, “I want a divorce.”