Harley looked up. James stood in front of Quincy, shielding her. His tall figure cast a shadow over them, his handsome face cold, lips pressed tightly together, and his sharp eyes filled with something venomous. Quincy's face turned pale. "Harley, I didn't know this meant so much to you. If I had known, I wouldn't have torn it. I was just angry."

She softened her voice, her eyes turning red. "James, I didn't do it on purpose. I thought Harley felt the same way as I did."

Harley's heart ached unbearably. Anyone else in the world could misunderstand her father, but not her. It mattered more than anything. She gritted her teeth. "Stop pretending. This has nothing to do with you. You had no right to tear it apart!"

"She was wrong, huh?" James' voice was icy as he stared at her.

Harley met his gaze. There was no warmth in his expression, only chilling indifference. "Harley," his voice was even colder now, "How come you pity a drug dealer? That makes you just like him, disgusting."

James shoved her hand away. She stumbled back several steps, her waist slamming into the edge of the sink. A sharp pain shot through her, making her whole body tremble. James didn't spare her a second glance. He coldly took Quincy's hand and led her away. Quincy cast one last look at Harley, a triumphant smirk tugging at her lips before following him out.

Harley bent over, staring at the mess on the ground. Her eyes burned red, but the words James had just spoken pierced her deeper than anything else. Disgusting. Had it really come to this?

Her face turned even paler, her lips quivering. Then, her strength gave out. Her vision blurred, and she collapsed to the ground. Even as she fell, she still reached out, desperately gathering the torn fragments. She refused to let anyone tarnish her father's name. Then, her vision went black, and she lost consciousness.

When Harley woke up, she was already in the hospital. A doctor stood nearby, jotting down notes. She hurried to sit up and lay back down again. The doctor, a woman, looked at her with concern. "You're really pushing yourself to the limit. Your anemia is severe. Luckily, a kind person brought you here in time."

Harley lowered her gaze and said nothing.

"Where's your family? Do they know about your condition? You should call them."

Harley thought about James staying by Quincy's side. She didn't want to call anyone and cause unnecessary worry. "There's no need, doctor."

Sensing her reluctance, the doctor softened. "At the very least, you should get a full-body check-up. Women need to take better care of themselves." The doctor meant well, but Harley knew her own body. No amount of tests would change anything. The doctor wanted her to stay in the hospital for observation, but Harley left quietly.

By the time she got home, it was already late. The house was dark. She switched on the lights and immediately noticed the shoes by the entrance. James was home, and his suit jacket was casually draped over the sofa. She walked over expressionlessly, tidied his clothes, and hung them up. Then she went to the bedroom. James was already asleep. Well, it was their marriage. He never waited for her.

Noticing his furrowed brows and the way his blanket had slipped off, Harley moved closer. His face was sweaty, perhaps from the heat. She instinctively reached out to adjust his blanket.

"Harley."

Harley froze, thinking James had woken up. But then, she heard him murmur, "Why did you do this to me?" The same words he had mumbled in his hospital bed the day they broke up. Her hand stiffened, her face paling. She looked down at him. His eyes were shut, his breathing deep. He was still asleep. It seemed like he had a nightmare. Their entire history must have been a nightmare to him. Only in his dreams did he seem to remember.

Harley prepared to pull away, but a warm, strong hand suddenly grabbed her wrist. Her heart clenched. She instinctively tried to withdraw, but before she could, James pulled her onto the bed. James was awake. He pinned her down, his eyes filled with murderous intent, red and sweaty as if he wanted to kill her. How much did he hate her to react like this? Harley clenched her fists, anxiety twisting inside her. She didn't dare to speak first.

James' gaze cleared slightly when he recognized her. The rage in his eyes faded, but his expression only grew colder. "What are you doing?" His voice was harsh, wary.

Harley answered calmly, "You were having a nightmare. I was just covering you with a blanket."

James pushed himself off her, his face still unreadable. Harley quickly sat up. Seeing his sweat-soaked forehead, she offered, "You're drenched in sweat. Let me get you a towel." After that, she got out of bed.

"Harley." His deep voice stopped her in her tracks. James stared at her silhouette. "How much longer are you going to keep this up?"

Her eyelashes trembled slightly, but she kept her composure. "I don't understand what you mean."

James' voice was sharp. "Three years. Aren't you tired of this yet?"

Harley understood exactly what he was referring to. Three years of marriage without love. Just her endlessly giving while he remained indifferent. No matter how much he resented her, how cold he was to her, she never got angry. She played her role as Mrs. Franklin quietly and obediently.

Sometimes, she would ask herself why was she doing all this. Did she hope that one day, he would change his mind? She never forced him, did she? It could be more out of guilt. She felt that if it weren't for her, he wouldn't have had to suffer so much. Yet, her kindness toward him had become a burden, making him hate her even more. It was as if she were trying too hard to please him only to push him further away.

Harley turned her head and met James' cold, handsome face. She smiled faintly. "It'll be over soon."

It would all be over soon. However, James didn't pay attention to the meaning behind her words. The man only showed indifference, not even wanting to look at her. He stood up and left the bedroom first. "That's for the best!"

With a loud bang, the door slammed shut. Harley was left alone in the room. She no longer needed to put on an act. Slowly, she crouched down and stayed there for a long time. Meanwhile, James sat in his study, his brows furrowed in a deep crease that never eased. The dreams were becoming more frequent. Over and over again, the same ones. Fragments of memories piecing themselves together, strangely familiar but just out of reach.

His head ached. A heavy feeling weighed on him, especially when he looked at Harley. The feeling became even stronger. She was like an endless abyss, something he dared not touch.

"Another nightmare?" A call came through.

James responded softly, "Yes."

"I checked your heart rate, it's been increasing lately. That's not a good sign."

James asked, "Will my memory come back?"

"Not sure," the person on the other end replied. "With the kind of injuries you had, forgetting might actually be a blessing."

That was what the doctor had told him. Forgetting might be for the best. He tried not to dwell on it, but in his dreams, the past kept pulling him back. Something told him that those memories weren't happy ones. There was hatred mixed in, yet deep down, there was also an undeniable sense of unwillingness to let go.

***

For the next few days, James didn't return home. Harley didn't leave the house either. She had never waited for him like this before. There wasn't much time left. She just wanted to spend a little more time with him, even if they didn't speak. Alas, her hopes were slowly crumbling. The more she wanted something, the faster it slipped through her fingers.

It had always been this way, but she didn't want to wait anymore. Harley opened the window and saw that it was snowing outside. A vast stretch of white. A gust of cold wind blew in, sending a chill through her body. She shivered. Wrapping herself in a thick down jacket, she put on a hat and scarf, bundling up completely before stepping out.

Sabrina Thompson was already waiting for her. Noticing how heavily dressed she was compared to others, Sabrina sighed. "It's freezing, and you still insisted on coming out?" She reached over and put earmuffs on Harley.

Harley smiled faintly. "I might not have another chance."

Sabrina frowned. "What do you mean? Can't you wait until the snow stops? You've always hated snowy days."

Harley shook her head. "Let's go inside. I want to buy something." She headed to the men's clothing section, browsing through the racks.

Sabrina watched her and immediately understood who she was shopping for. Her expression darkened. "Harley, you're not seriously still thinking about him, are you?"

Harley's gaze fell on a dark-colored coat. It would suit James perfectly. She had it wrapped up. "I don't know if I am," she murmured. "But I'm divorcing him."

Sabrina was completely stunned. "What?"

Harley turned to her. "This will probably be the last thing I ever do for him." She had waited so many days, but he never came back. So, she decided to finish this one last thing. If she stayed any longer, she might not see him before Harley's identity completely disappeared. Before that, she had to end it completely.

Harley took the packed clothes and was about to go home. Unexpectedly, at the jewelry counter around the corner, she saw the man. He stood beside Quincy, who was leaning over the glass counter, looking at her left hand. On her finger was a diamond ring, sparkling and dazzling under the light. James was accompanying Quincy to look at wedding rings; this would surely be another headline in the news.

"Harley, are you still going to be love-struck?" Sabrina's voice rang in her ears.

Harley comforted herself, "I'm not love-struck, and James isn't a heartless man. He just forgot about me." That was true, but why did it hurt so much?