"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?

"Do you have any candy?"

"Huh?" Sabrina was confused by Harley's sudden question, but she immediately understood as she saw Harley's tear-streaked face. She hugged Harley and gently patted her shoulder, "Harley, if you can't hold onto the sand, just let it go. If you're not happy, what's the point of insisting on this marriage?"

"I understand." Harley swallowed back the emotions surging inside her. Sabrina took her home. No, Sabrina took her back to the villa under James' name.

As soon as Harley returned, she went straight to the room and quickly drafted a divorce agreement. Then, she sat on the couch and waited. Minute by minute, time passed. It was after midnight when James finally came home, but he wasn't alone. Quincy was with him.

Quincy supported him. "James is drunk. Someone needs to take care of him."

Even though this scene stung Harley's eyes, she couldn't pretend not to see it. She stepped forward to help, but Quincy pushed her away forcefully. "A lowly servant like you can't even tell what's going on? Do you really think you're Mrs. Franklin?"

Harley was caught off guard and fell to the ground. She didn't expect Quincy to pull such a stunt; otherwise, she wouldn't have given Quincy the chance to push her. But James ... every time James got drunk, she was the one who took care of him and made him a hangover remedy. Because the hangover tea Harley made was a special recipe from an old doctor. She couldn't just leave James unattended.

So, she went to the kitchen, made the hangover tea, and brought it up. Before she could even set it down, Quincy smacked the cup out of her hands. That was the last straw. "Quincy, I held back just now because of James. But that doesn't mean I'm afraid of you."

Quincy sneered. "You? Fight me? Harley, look at yourself. Look at your status. Do you think you can stand up to me?"

Harley despised Quincy. She refused to let this woman humiliate her like this. That woman raised her hand, ready to slap her. Unfortunately, before she could land the hit, a strong force yanked her back. That familiar strength of that chiseled face. "Harley, who gave you the courage to lay a hand on Quincy?"

James' dark eyes were like two sharp knives. Knives that sliced straight through her heart, leaving her bleeding. James could forget her, forget the feelings between them. Still, he repeatedly defended a woman who looked eerily similar to her in front of her. How could she bear this? How could she endure this? Harley suppressed the endless pain surging in her heart. "She knocked over my hangover tea, why can't I hit her?"

Quincy immediately put on an act, looking aggrieved, "James, didn't I send you back? She probably saw the diamond ring on my hand, misunderstood, and then smashed it in front of me … "

When the cup shattered, James had only woken up in a daze. Quincy knew that all he saw was Harley raising her hand against her. There were no cameras in the room, and James didn't care about his real wife. Harley was doomed. James' face darkened as he strode toward her.

Harley had always had a keen sense of smell; she caught the heavy scent of alcohol on him immediately. Her heart ached. The James she knew used to listen to her every word. Now, all she felt was hatred for those drug dealers who had ruined everything.

If it weren't for the drug dealers, Harley's father wouldn't have had to go undercover. He wouldn't have been mistaken for a criminal. Her mother and brother also wouldn't have been targeted for revenge. James also wouldn't have gotten into that accident trying to find her and wouldn't have lost his memory.

At that moment, Harley was certain of one thing. She had to get a divorce and put distance between herself and James. Harley had to reinstate her father's police badge. Even if she and James could never be together in this lifetime, she was willing to dedicate herself to protecting the country and to exchange her love for the peace of thousands of families.

Harley took a deep breath and looked at James. "Yes, I admit it. I can't stand you and Quincy. But now, I've realized something. Sign the divorce papers. I'll walk away with nothing."

After that, she strode to the nightstand. Harley pulled open the drawer and took out a divorce agreement, handing it to James.

The man's face darkened, his expression terrifyingly cold. Meanwhile, Quincy behind him was delighted. After all, if Harley divorced James, no one would be happier than Quincy. This would mean that she could finally become Mrs. Franklin rightfully and openly.

James had long since grown tired of Harley. By logic, he should have signed the divorce papers immediately. But instead, that man tore them to shreds. He flung the torn pieces at her face. His voice was icy. "Harley, when you wanted to get married, you tricked Grandpa. Now that you want out, you just throw divorce papers at me? What the hell do you take me for?"

His fury was palpable, his strength relentless. The sharp edges of the torn paper scratched Harley's cheek, stinging slightly. She clenched her fists and let out a soft laugh. "Why hold on to a marriage without love? I'm not even asking for a single cent. What more do you want?"

James' jaw tightened. "Who knows what tricks you've played with those documents?"

Harley refused to look at him, afraid that if she did, her emotions would completely crumble. Aside from her adoptive parents, James was the only person she had left. Her voice was indifferent. "If you think I tampered with the documents, why don't you draft the divorce agreement yourself?"

Quincy stepped forward and clung to James' arm. "James, she never mentioned divorce before. But now ... could it be because she has someone else outside? I mean, I'm just guessing. Otherwise, why would she be willing to leave without a single cent?"

A guess? Quincy was clearly trying to frame her, but Harley was too tired to argue with her anymore.

James' eyes darkened, his voice chilling. "Harley, you better not be doing anything disgraceful. Otherwise—"

"Spare me the threats." She cut him off coldly. "You have Quincy, don't you? Just sign the papers, and let's put an end to this farce. Or do you prefer keeping her as your mistress forever? Even when you have children, do you want them to be born illegitimate?"