Millicent, sensing that Odette might miss her post, intentionally tagged her.

Odette responded with a soft, indifferent smile, liking Millicent’s post without a second thought.

The day before, they’d exchanged WhatsApp contacts during the negotiation for the fender-bender compensation, but Odette had used her work account.

Benedict didn’t have her work account saved.

When they arrived at the French restaurant, Millicent sent Odette a message. [Do you believe I can make him come running to me with just one phone call?]

Odette casually remarked, “This car is surprisingly sturdy. I got into a small collision yesterday after work.”

Benedict’s gaze snapped up, concerned about flooding his eyes. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“It’s nothing. Just a scratch on the car,” Odette reassured him, shaking her head lightly.

"Who dared lay a hand on you? If anything had happened, I wouldn’t let them get away with it!" Benedict said coldly, his voice sharp.

Watching the man who still seemed to care for her as much as ever, Odette felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine.

How could he deceive her so effortlessly, all while tangled up with another woman?

While she spent her time in operating rooms, saving lives, was Benedict out there, indulging in pleasures and distractions elsewhere?

"It's nothing. Can we just go home? The crabapple flowers..."

But before she could finish, Benedict’s phone buzzed. His expression darkened as he took the call. "Alright, I’ll be there right away.”

"Odette, one of the shareholders, pulled out. I need to go back to the company immediately. If you're not hungry anymore, I'll have the driver take you home first, okay?"

His coaxing was filled with anxiety, and Odette gave a weak nod.

After he left, Odette opened the location-tracking app on her phone.

The map showed that Benedict hadn’t gone to the company at all.

He had gone to one of the hotels he often frequented.

“Madam, would you still like to dine at the French restaurant?” the driver asked.

“Yes,” Odette replied, her voice steady as she stepped out of the car and entered the restaurant.

The waiter presented the dishes Benedict had ordered in advance, but the first bite left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She placed her spoon down, the meal suddenly unappetizing, and picked up the phone.

“Hello, may I ask if VIP Suite 888 is occupied tonight?” she asked the hotel’s front desk.

“Of course! That’s Mr. Evander’s exclusive suite. He even sometimes brings his wife here,” the receptionist responded, her tone laced with excitement.

“What does his wife look like?” Odette asked, her voice deceptively calm.

Each question she asked felt like a knife twisting deeper into her heart.

It felt like a slow, relentless death, each word a sharp cut, each moment an agonizing reminder of her helplessness.

Odette had spent her life-saving others, performing surgeries with the precision of a seasoned surgeon. But now, for the first time, she felt like a helpless fish, laid bare and vulnerable, at the mercy of Benedict’s quiet, cutting gaze.

“She must be incredibly beautiful. I’ve heard she’s a doctor, and everyone knows she’s his favorite. But we've never had the pleasure of seeing her face up close,” the receptionist sighed, almost wistfully.

Odette’s mind involuntarily drifted to Millicent, radiant, youthful, and undeniably stunning.

She had always known the whispers. The envy and admiration from others who saw her as the woman who had won Benedict’s heart.

But the darker whispers followed, too, cruel words behind her back, branding her as an old hag, a woman who had used their child as a means to trap Benedict in her web.

It wasn’t just the hotel, the roses, or the jewelry; it was everything. All of it belonged to Millicent.

Odette could barely stomach the words the receptionist spoke. The mention of “big brother” and how Benedict had showered Millicent with gifts was the final straw.

“I often hear Mr. Evander’s wife calling him ‘big brother.’ Honestly, it’s quite a skill; imagine being six years older and still managing to call him that,” the receptionist mused.

“Mr. Evander never forgets her, always red roses, sparkling jewelry, and other gifts. It’s truly enviable...”

Odette’s heart twisted with the weight of the words. She couldn’t listen anymore. With one sharp motion, she hung up.

She had never set foot in that hotel. Not once.

And everything she had believed, every gesture of love she had been part of, now felt like a cruel mirage. The hotel, the flowers, the jewels, they were all Millicent’s.

The receptionist, still confused, muttered to a nearby colleague, “Some random person called, asking about Mr. Evander’s visits. Then, I just hung up. What a jealous type.”

The location-tracking app had always been there, a silent reminder of the bond Odette and Benedict once shared. Installed together before their marriage, it had been a symbol of safety. Now, it only felt like a haunting presence, one they both left on, even as their love faded.

Odette returned home alone, the weight of her heart heavier with each step.

Nine days. Only nine days left.

She stood in the rain, her eyes raw and swollen, watching as the workers chopped down the crabapple trees in the yard, the ones she had cherished above all.

As each tree fell, Odette felt as though a part of her soul was uprooted with it. The promise they had shared, the dream of swinging beneath the blooming branches, slipped further away with each falling bough.

“When the crabapple flowers bloom, we’ll swing together in the yard, alright?”

It had been their promise.

But now, there was no waiting for those flowers to bloom.

She stared at the crumpled remnants of the trees, lost in the past, her heart too broken to hold on to hope.

“What a pity. These trees were so well cared for... They would’ve bloomed next month,” one worker whispered, his voice tinged with regret.

“Doesn’t matter. If the madam doesn’t want them, they’re gone. In Mr. Evander’s heart, her word is law,” the other murmured as the trees fell one by one.

After the loss of the crabapple trees, Odette’s long-dormant pancreatitis flared up violently. The pain hit her like a storm, leaving her disoriented and lost in a fog.

In her haze, she tried calling Benedict repeatedly, but each ring went unanswered.

Eventually, the pain became too much, and in the blur of her last moments of consciousness, she managed to call for an ambulance before slipping into darkness.

The following day, Benedict returned home, stumbling through the door, reeking of alcohol after a night of indulgence.

As he passed through the yard, he stopped, staring blankly at the barren space where the crabapple trees had once stood. His eyes lingered for a moment, but he didn’t notice the emptiness that had settled in the air.

Without a second thought, he bent over and vomited where the trees had been.

A moment of clarity washed over him as he straightened, feeling slightly more sober. He staggered into the house, making his way upstairs to the master bedroom.

When he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled Odette into his arms, his body craving the comfort of her warmth.

He sighed deeply, trying to find peace in the silence.

But just as he settled, the distant wail of an ambulance siren sliced through the stillness.

Startled, Benedict gently pushed Odette aside, only to find her frowning, unconscious, completely unaware of his presence.

A sudden chill ran down Benedict’s spine as he realized something was horribly wrong. Without a second thought, he scooped Odette into his arms and rushed downstairs.

“Dr. Clarendon called the hospital; she’s having a pancreatitis attack,” one of Odette’s colleagues explained, worry thick in their voice.

“Get her to the hospital. Now!” Benedict ordered, trying to keep his voice steady, but his body betrayed him, shaking with anxiety.

It wasn’t the first time Odette had faced this attack. But the last time had been years ago, three or four to be exact.

Her intense work schedule, skipping meals, staying up far too late, and always putting herself last had been the culprit back then.

Since being with Benedict, though, those attacks had become a distant memory, thanks to his careful attention to her health.

Now, as he clutched her hand, a rush of guilt surged through him as he stared at the missed calls from Millicent.

Without a second thought, he dismissed her call with a sharp tap of his finger, a cold decision that felt oddly right.

At the hospital, Odette was rushed into emergency care.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Benedict’s frantic face, his eyes bloodshot from worry.

“Baby, you scared me to death,” he breathed, his voice cracking as he pressed a gentle kiss to her hand.

Tears slipped quietly down Odette’s cheeks, yet she remained silent, her heart heavy with words she couldn’t find.

For the next three days, Benedict hardly left her side, his presence a constant, though his mind lingered elsewhere; whenever Millicent called, a pang of guilt gnawed at him.

The day Odette was finally discharged, Benedict held her gently as they walked through the yard. It was then that he noticed the absence; the crabapple trees were gone.

“What happened to the trees? Where are our crabapple trees? Who would dare destroy them?”

Fury surged within him as he turned to the housekeeper, Caroline, who trembled under his gaze.

“I had them cut down. They died,” Odette replied softly, her face as pale as the winter sky, yet a faint, forced smile played on her lips, masking the storm inside.

Benedict panicked, his voice rising with urgency. “I’ll have someone transplant semi-mature trees here. Maybe, just maybe, we can still see them bloom this year...”

Odette gazed at the space, her voice a whisper of finality. “No need. Dead is dead.”

Benedict wrapped his arms around her from behind, his tone pleading. “Don’t talk like that. Don’t scare me.”

Odette turned her head slightly, her voice soft yet steady. “Benedict, your birthday is coming soon. I’ve prepared a gift for you.”

His face brightened, the warmth of a smile spreading across his lips. “Really? I’m looking forward to it.”

But the moment was shattered by the sharp ring of his phone. After answering, his demeanor changed, his expression darkening.

Once he hung up, his words were swift. “Someone at the construction site is threatening to jump. I need to check it out.”

Odette nodded silently, her eyes following his retreating figure.

Back when they were dating, Benedict had always watched her leave. He used to say she was an angel in white, a warrior fighting against the tide, saving broken families and precious lives.

But she couldn’t save their love.

Soon enough, Odette received a picture from Millicent, which was a pregnancy test.

A sharp pain twisted in Odette’s chest, the air seeming to squeeze out of her lungs.

Benedict had broken his promise again.

How many times had he betrayed her? The count seemed impossible.

Six months ago, on their way to a simple date, they had been in a car accident.

In that moment of impending doom, Odette had thrown herself in front of Benedict, shielding him from harm.

The crash had left her gravely injured, bleeding heavily, and took from her the one thing she could never get back: her uterus.

Benedict had been beside himself with fear, shaking as he held her hand tightly, vowing that no matter what happened, his love for her would never waver.

When the news came that her uterus couldn’t be saved, he had immediately assured her it didn’t matter, that he could live without children as long as she was by his side.

Before she was wheeled into surgery, fully aware she could never have a child of her own, Benedict had proposed again, the eighth time.

Everyone in the room had been moved as Benedict spoke with such sincerity, his voice thick with emotion. “Odette brought light into my life, and now she’s sacrificed everything for me. If I ever fail her, I deserve the heavens to strike me down.”

Overwhelmed, Odette had agreed, tears filling her eyes.

But reality had come crashing down hard, leaving her heart shattered.

The promises still echoed in her mind, but the man who made them had proven unable to control himself. Instead, he had let another woman carry his child.

Millicent's message popped up, cold and cruel: [I’m pregnant. Your man laughed in my face, calling you a useless hen who can’t lay eggs. He’s on his way to see me now.]

[How could a successful man settle for no heir? Only someone as naïve as you would believe otherwise.]

[Odette, maybe he loved you once, but that was in the past. Now, all his passion belongs to me. Doesn’t it sting watching him move on?]

]Oh my god, he’s amazing. He got here so fast and even brought my favorite beef patties.]

Millicent followed up with a photo of pancakes, then another one of Benedict washing her feet.

Odette stared, unblinking, at the screen.

It was true, those who were adored never had to fear losing it.

She scrolled through one of Millicent’s earliest posts, her finger trembling as she read.

July 31, 11:58 p.m.

At that exact moment, Odette had been lying on the operating table, the cold sting of the scalpel cutting into her as her uterus was removed.

Meanwhile, Millicent had posted. [My CEO boyfriend is practically Superman! Braving the storm to bring me my favorite beef patties. When someone truly loves you, they’ll give you nothing less than the best.]

The post was accompanied by a picture of steaming, juicy beef patties, and there, drenched by the downpour, stood Benedict, his white shirt clinging to his body, the rain making it almost see-through, accentuating the sensual curve of his throat and neck.

Odette recalled the storm; it had been a once-in-a-lifetime tempest that day.