The rain fell steadily all through the night, and Charlie never came home.

Yuliana stayed in, pulling out a thick, heavy sketchbook from her college days. Inside were hundreds of drawings, each page featuring the same face.

One by one, she tore the portraits to shreds, severing the last of her lingering attachments.

By the time the floor was buried under a layer of paper scraps, her phone chimed with a notification—Alyssa had posted something new on Twitter.

The photo was taken at a high-end restaurant, the table set for a romantic dinner with roses and champagne. In the bottom-left corner, the slender, elegant hand of a man was just visible.

A comment underneath read, "So sweet! Out for another romantic dinner with your boyfriend?"

Alyssa had replied, "Don't be silly. He isn't my boyfriend. He's just a friend who knew I was scared of thunder and came all this way to keep me company."

"Just a friend". The audacity of saying that out loud.

Yuliana knew Alyssa was doing it on purpose, but strangely, she was past the point of caring.

She turned off her phone and went to the bathroom for a hot shower.

When she stepped out, her skin still damp and steaming, she found Charlie sitting in the living room. On the coffee table in front of him lay a bouquet of fresh flowers and a strawberry cake.

Yuliana froze for a moment. "I thought you hated sweets. Why the cake?"

Charlie walked over and pulled a small box from his pocket, revealing a necklace.

"Happy birthday."

Yuliana went numb.

Since she had grown up in an orphanage, birthdays had always felt foreign to her. She had never had a party, never received a gift, and until she met Charlie, she hadn't even known what birthday cake tasted like.

But in the three years of their marriage, no matter how demanding his schedule was, Charlie had always made it home to celebrate her birthday with her.

He had once promised her, "I'll be with you for every birthday from now on. I'll spend the rest of our lives making up for everything you missed out on as a kid."

Back then, when she looked into his eyes—so earnest and sincere—she let herself believe, if only for a heartbeat, that he had truly fallen for her.

She remembered how he would care for her devotedly when she was sick, staying by her side even when he was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion. He had showered her with expensive gifts and taken her on beautiful vacations.

Yuliana allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she had carved out a small place in Charlie's heart.

Then, Alyssa came back, and reality crashed down all at once.

This year, on Valentine's Day, Charlie claimed he had to work unexpected overtime. Yuliana sat alone at home, eating the candlelit dinner she had meticulously prepared.

Just as the weight of her disappointment bore down on her, a photo from Madelyn popped up on Yuliana's phone.

In the photo, a woman—clearly intoxicated—was draped over a man's shoulder. Their posture was suggestively intimate.

That man was undeniably Charlie.

"Yuliana, isn't this your husband? I just saw him at the park with another woman."

Yuliana's mind went blank, a dull ringing echoing in her ears.

By the time she rushed to the park Madelyn had mentioned, she found the man who was supposedly working overtime locked in a desperate embrace with Alyssa.

Charlie's expression was dark with rage as he tried to shove Alyssa away.

"Alyssa, what do you take me for?" he snarled. "A dog you can whistle for whenever you feel like it? I'm a married man!"

But Alyssa wasn't listening. She lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist as she sobbed. "I'm not leaving! I won't! I'm the one who was supposed to be your wife!"

Charlie let out a frustrated growl through gritted teeth. "Have you lost your mind?"

Alyssa released him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Fine. If you don't want me, then there's no point in living anyway. I swear I'll never show up again. You'll never see me for the rest of your life!"

With that, she bolted toward the edge of the lake.

Charlie's face went deathly pale. He lunged after her, catching her around the waist just in time to haul her back.

"Let go, Charlie! You're married! Why do you care whether your ex lives or dies?" she screamed.

"Alyssa, calm down! I didn't mean it like that! You've always been in my heart!"

In his panic, his true feelings had finally slipped out.

At that moment, Yuliana's entire world collapsed. The dream she had so carefully woven for herself shattered into pieces.

A flurry of memories flashed through her mind. The boy kneeling on one knee before the entire school on the track, the way he always angled his umbrella toward Alyssa in the rain, and his silhouette standing motionless for three hours in the freezing snow…

Each memory was proof of how deeply Charlie loved Alyssa.

Yuliana had known it all along, yet she had still clung to a pitiful sliver of hope.

What if he felt something for her? What if her devotion finally moved him? What if he forgot Alyssa? What if…

But there were no what-ifs.

Charlie's heart had never budged an inch toward her. Every kindness he showed her was nothing but borrowed affection, salvaged from the years Alyssa had been gone.

He tossed her scraps of warmth whenever his mood allowed, and she had been foolish enough to believe she was receiving the whole world.

Yuliana touched the necklace, but her heart didn't flutter at all. She simply gave him a polite nod. "Thank you."

Charlie lit the candles, a gentle smile playing at his lips. "There's no need to be so formal with me. Come on, make a wish."

Yuliana nodded. But just as she was about to blow out the candles, Charlie's phone rang.

She caught the brief shift in his gaze and didn't need to see the screen to know who was calling.

Sure enough, the call ended a minute later, and Charlie walked out the door, leaving his promise behind.

As Yuliana watched his car disappear into the rainy night, a bitter smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

The living room window was still open. A cold draft whipped the candle flames, their frantic flickering reflected in her eyes.

She brought her hands together, fingers intertwined, and made her 24th birthday wish.

"From now on, let there be nothing between Yuliana and Charlie."

A week later, Yuliana attended her college friend Bella Harper's wedding as a bridesmaid.

Everyone from their department had been invited, including Charlie.

As usual, he was the center of attention, surrounded by a crowd of old classmates. But the moment he spotted her, he immediately broke away and made his way over.

"That bridesmaid dress really suits you," he said.

Yuliana gave a faint smile in response.

The surrounding crowd cast strange, sideways glances their way as they stood together.

Yuliana knew it was all because of her. To their old classmates, she was a social climber who had only married Charlie for the Zimmer family fortune. They looked down on her for it, but she didn't care about their malicious assumptions.

Instead, she focused all her energy on ensuring Bella had a perfect wedding.

Finally, the ceremony reached its finale, and it was time for the bouquet toss. While every other woman hoped to catch that symbol of happiness, Yuliana remained still.

She had no interest in joining the fray. A woman who was about to be divorced had no reason to chase a symbol of marital bliss.

But then, Bella turned around, her eyes shimmering with tears as she looked at Yuliana.

She took the microphone and announced, "I'd like to give this bouquet to my best friend from college, Yuliana."

Yuliana's heart clenched at the sound of her name. A sudden, heavy hush fell over the entire hall.

"Traditionally, the bouquet is meant for an unmarried woman, but it represents so much more than just marriage—it represents happiness. As my best friend, I want to pass this happiness on to you."

Bella glanced at Yuliana and went on, "And I want to congratulate you for finally being able to stand beside the man you've loved in secret for so many years."

Charlie, who had worn an impassive expression the entire time, finally showed a flicker of a reaction.

"Others may not know, but I know exactly how much you've given over the years. You fell for Charlie when you were 19 years old. Even though he didn't know, and even though you were sure it was a love that would never be returned, you still chose to love him quietly.

"I once asked you why you refused to give up, even knowing your secret love might lead to a dead end. You told me it was simply because you loved him.

"You loved the way he shone under the spotlight. You loved how he instinctively shielded you from a flying basketball in the evening breeze. You even loved his sincere, polite grace when he turned others down.

"I saw you burn the midnight oil studying just to qualify for a competition he was in. I saw you brave a storm to buy him medicine when he was sick, only to secretly slip it into his desk drawer. I've seen your diaries filled with his name and the 999 love letters you wrote for him."

Bella paused, choking back a sob. "You once told me that love is the most magical thing in the world. Watching you persist so wholeheartedly is what gave me the courage to pursue my own happiness.

"I'm giving you this bouquet today because I hope you and Charlie will be happy forever, my dear best friend."

When she finished, the hall fell into pin-drop silence, and Charlie stiffened all over.

He couldn't help but think back to their wedding, a day too painful to remember. He saw her again, rising without hesitation amid the gasps of the crowd and walking toward him with unwavering resolve.

Only now did he realize that Yuliana hadn't chosen him to cling to power or status. She truly loved him, and she had loved him for a long time.

A ripple suddenly stirred in the stagnant pool of his heart.

As the wedding wound down, Charlie sought out Yuliana, desperate for answers. But before he could utter a word, a call from Alyssa came through.

"Charlie…" she sobbed. "I was having dinner and accidentally spilled some juice on the people at the next table. Now they won't let me go. They've even called reinforcements, trying to force me to go to a hotel with them."

Before she could finish, Charlie's expression darkened instantly. He hung up and jumped into his car, flooring the gas and racing through countless red lights.

The moment he saw the men in the restaurant, the anger he had been holding back snapped. He charged in and swung his fist at them.

He seemed to lose all reason, raining down such brutal, vengeful blows that several of the men began coughing up blood.

Alyssa hid behind him, clutching his shirt and wailing that one of the men had kissed her.

Hearing that, Charlie pinned the man against the wall and delivered more than a dozen hard slaps to his face. Even when blood began pouring from the man's mouth, he refused to let up.

The onlookers were paralyzed with fear. They didn't dare to speak, and only a few had the mind to quietly call the police.

Charlie grabbed a bottle opener from a nearby table and used it to wrench a tooth right out of the man's jaw.

By the time Yuliana arrived, the restaurant was a scene of carnage. Thugs lay scattered across the floor, and among them, a blonde man had been beaten until his face was swollen and his mouth was a bloody mess.

She froze in shock. When she looked up, she saw Charlie shielding Alyssa, leading her away. The man who had been ruthless moments ago now wore a look of pure tenderness, murmuring soft comforts as he held Alyssa close.

It was a tenderness Yuliana had never known.

She lowered her eyes, forcing back the emotions welling up inside her, and let out a self-mocking smile. Realizing she was only in the way, she turned and quietly went home.

It was nearly midnight when Charlie finally returned from giving his statement at the police station.

Yuliana was already in bed, her back to him.

Charlie knew she wasn't asleep. He sat on the edge of the mattress, the weight of him making the bed sink.

"Yuliana… There were so many people there," he explained. "Regarding Alyssa… I couldn't just stand by and do nothing."

Yuliana only gave a soft, noncommittal hum while her eyes remained closed.

Just then, her phone lit up on the nightstand with a chime. Charlie caught a glimpse of the screen, and his expression shifted.

"Yuliana, why is the court sending you a message?" he asked, his voice sharp.

Yuliana spun around and snatched the phone right out of Charlie's hand.

"It's nothing. I was just looking up whether what those guys did counted as disorderly conduct."

Charlie wanted to push further, but seeing her closed-off expression, he swallowed his questions. They were husband and wife, after all. He believed she wouldn't lie to him.

He nodded and got up to freshen up, but Yuliana called out to him.

She reached into the cabinet and pulled out a first-aid kit. "Your hand is hurt. Let me take care of it."

Charlie blinked, then obediently sat back down on the edge of the bed. He held out his hand, revealing a jagged, bloody cut. He had planned to ignore it, thinking it wasn't deep enough for a bandage, but he hadn't expected Yuliana to notice.

As he watched her focus intently on dabbing the wound with an alcohol swab, his mind drifted back to the ceremony.

"Yuliana, about what Bella said at the wedding today—"

"Don't get it wet when you shower, or it'll get infected," she interrupted. "And try to be more careful the next time you get into a fight. After this, there won't be anyone around to patch you up anymore."

She muttered that last part so softly that Charlie couldn't quite catch it.

"What did you just say?"

Yuliana offered a faint smile. "Nothing. It's late. I'm going to get some rest."

With that, she put the kit away and climbed into bed.

By the time Charlie finished his shower and came back out, Yuliana was still awake. He climbed in beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and reaching for the buttons of her pajamas.

Yuliana reached up and caught his hand, stopping him from going further. Her voice was flat, stripped of its usual warmth. "It's been a long day. I want to sleep early tonight."

Charlie didn't force her. He simply tucked her in and turned off the light.

…

The following morning, Yuliana was jolted awake by a commotion coming from downstairs.

She dressed and headed down, only to find Alyssa in the living room, chatting and laughing with a large group of people in the living room.

Charlie stood to the side, brows furrowed, his tone laced with his signature impatience. "What are you doing here?"

Alyssa didn't miss a beat. Lounging on the couch as if she owned the place, she arched a playful brow at him. "What, not happy to see me?"

A few of Charlie's friends walked over with a grin. "Alyssa said you're the hero who saved her last night. She was so grateful she just had to come by and thank you in person."

Charlie's scowl deepened as he took in Alyssa's languid pose on the couch. "I'm not seeing much sincere gratitude here."

Alyssa smirked, and with a magician's flair, she pulled a box of chocolates from behind her back.

"Back in college, I used to make you chocolates every Valentine's Day. After all these years, I'm sure you've missed the taste."

Charlie didn't reach for the box, but the hard lines of his face softened noticeably.

Seeing the opening, Alyssa tossed the chocolates into Yuliana's arms. "Those are Charlie's favorite almond chocolates. Please put them away for him."

At that, Charlie's brows knit together again, his voice turning cold as he said, "Alyssa, you're the one who likes almond chocolates. Don't put your tastes on me. And Yuliana is my wife, not a maid. She's under no obligation to take orders from you."

A glacial chill swept the room, freezing everything in its path. Except for Yuliana—her smile remained perfectly still on her face.

So, almond chocolate was Alyssa's favorite.

It all made sense. Whether it was a corporate gala or their own wedding anniversary, there was always almond chocolate on the table.

She wondered if, every time Charlie prepared them, he was secretly revisiting those college Valentine's Days with Alyssa.

Without a word, she handed the box to the housekeeper to put in the fridge.

Alyssa shot her a look of renewed hostility, but Yuliana ignored it, carrying her breakfast into the dining room.

Because of the open floor plan, even from the dining room, every word from the living room carried over with perfect clarity.

"Charlie, isn't this the painting I did for the art competition in college? I can't believe you kept it! You even had it framed and hung in the living room. If you like my work that much, I'll paint you some new ones.

"And the pebbles we collected at the beach! I thought you'd tossed them ages ago. I never expected to see them in a crystal display box.

"Wait… I remember throwing this guitar with the broken string in the trash years ago. Did you actually take it back?"

Every corner of the house bore traces of Alyssa.

Yuliana remembered when she first moved in. She had asked about these items, and Charlie had simply dismissed them as sentimental mementos from school.

He never offered details, and she never pried. But she had been too blind to see the raw emotion hidden in his eyes whenever he looked at them—a mix of restraint, resentment, and agonizing love, all stirred by Alyssa.