At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore.

His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot.

"Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her."

The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave.

The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy.

Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake.

Days later, he finally remembers I exist.

"As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport."

I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer.

I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.

Tucker Davenport casually dropped a gift box onto the couch. A half-hearted smile was playing on his lips.

"I'll admit, I was a bit harsh this time. Consider these shoes my apology. They're the latest model."

I looked down at the high heels inside. The smooth leather and sharp stiletto heels caught the light. They shone with a cold, distant gleam.

My legs still ached faintly, which only made the gift feel more ironic.

The shoes were clearly a size too big, yet he insisted they were "specially chosen for me".

When I didn't reach for them, Tucker's expression tightened for a moment. Impatience flickered in his eyes.

"I've already apologized. What else do you want? Even Shelby didn't make a big deal of it, and here you are acting like some spoiled princess. Stop making such a fuss."

My chest tightened. It felt like something was caught in my airways. I drew in a slow breath, trying to keep my voice even. "I wasn't trying to imitate her. The dress was—"

"Are you still going to make excuses?"

Tucker cut me off with a cold, mocking laugh. His voice was dripping with disdain.

"I know exactly what you're up to. You're just trying to imitate Shelby with these pathetic games. Look at yourself. You're nothing but a cheap knockoff."

His scornful gaze hit me like a knife, freezing me in place.

My fingers trembled at my sides. The heels were resting in my lap like a heavy weight of shame.

"If you're not going to wear them," Tucker said sharply, "then give them to Shelby yourself. That can be your apology."

He slid the shoes toward me with quiet contempt, as though my hesitation merely proved my ingratitude.

"Shelby's always been kind enough to overlook your little games," he added. His tone was sharp and unforgiving. "She won't hold it against you."

Those elegant heels now felt like sharp knives digging into my heart.

Every burn on my legs throbbed fiercely. They were a brutal reminder of his cruelty.

And now, he expected me to deliver those very shoes to Shelby, as if I were the one at fault.

Tucker's cold gaze bore into me. "Stop playing the victim. Just hurry up!"

I had loved this man for five long years, but his neglect, indifference, and disdain ripped my dignity apart.

With all the strength I could gather, I forced myself to stand. Pain shot through my legs like wildfire, and the tears I'd fought so hard to hold back finally spilled over.

…

Shelby Pennington was Tucker's unattainable ideal—the woman he adored and kept tucked away in a corner of his heart.

In stark contrast, I was the one who chased after him throughout college.

In my sophomore year, I finally found the courage to confess my feelings. Surrounded by admiring eyes, I became his girlfriend.

Though he never once said he loved me, I held onto hope. I believed that if I loved him enough, I could slowly carve out a place in his heart.

But when Shelby returned, I realized a painful truth. No matter how much I tried, Tucker's heart would never fully be mine.

It happened one night. Drunk and confused, Tucker mistook me for Shelby.

His fingers brushed my cheek gently. He whispered her name with a tenderness and longing he had never once shown me.

I stood frozen. My eyes were locked on his. His gaze was distant, and a faint smile lingered on his lips. It was as if he were lost in the memory of the woman he truly desired.

At that moment, the truth dawned on me. Maybe it was the faint reflection of Shelby in me that made him accept my love and even marry me.

But the instant Shelby returned to the country, that fragile warmth disappeared.

Tucker no longer saw those similarities as a source of attraction but as a betrayal of Shelby's memory.

From then on, whenever I unknowingly wore a color she favored, used her favorite perfume, or styled my hair like hers, he would scowl or lash out with cold, cutting words.

The most humiliating thing I'd ever done was to fall in love with a man who never truly belonged to me.

I traced the burns on my legs and called my mentor abroad.

If I were just a forgotten shadow beneath Tucker's true love, then walking away was the only thing left to do.

…

That evening, Tucker handed me a necklace. "You're coming with me to the cocktail party tonight. Don't make a scene."

The delicate chain held a small, dull stone. Its simplicity made it feel almost like an afterthought.

It was made by Shelby's favorite brand.

"Tucker, I don't want to go. My legs still haven't healed."

He scoffed, pretending not to hear me. "Stop being difficult. Go change," he barked.

When I didn't move, Tucker's brows knitted in frustration. He gripped my wrist tightly and pulled me up, indifferent to the pain coursing through me.

In the car, I curled into myself, overwhelmed by waves of discomfort. Meanwhile, Tucker gazed out the window. His face was cold and unreadable.

Tonight's party was a celebration of Shelby's successful art exhibition.

In the grand hall, she stood in an elegant gown that captured everyone's attention.

Tucker gave me a sharp nudge. "Make sure you properly apologize to Shelby. Don't upset her again."

Apologize? Wasn't I already humiliated enough?

I stared at the simple necklace around my neck before shifting my gaze to Shelby. She wore one from the same brand, but hers was extravagant. It shone brilliantly under the lights.

Just then, Shelby approached us. With a smile, she slipped her arm through Tucker's. "Thank you for the necklace. It's lovely."

Suddenly, her eyes dropped to my trembling legs. After a moment's pause, she covered her mouth and said softly, "Oh my, what happened to your legs? A woman's body is so delicate. Tucker, you really need to be more careful."

Tucker lightly patted her hand. His gaze was warm and tender. "Shelby, you're too kind. I admire how you always think of others."

I couldn't hold it in any longer. A bitter laugh escaped me. "Do you really enjoy flirting like this right in front of me?"

Shelby's brows furrowed. There was a flicker of unease in her eyes as she glanced at Tucker.

Tucker's face darkened immediately. "Willow, don't you have any decency?" he snarled under his breath. "Shelby's been nothing but kind. Meanwhile, you just overthink everything. Thank God she's not nearly as petty as you—"

Before he could finish, he shoved me hard.

My injured legs buckled, and I collapsed to the floor with a thud.

Whispers and curious stares surrounded us from every direction.

Without hesitation, Tucker stepped protectively beside Shelby. "Don't pay her any attention. Let's get out of here," he murmured.

…

Late at night, I finally dragged my weary body back home. The pain in my legs throbbed, but the ache in my heart was far deeper.

My marriage to Tucker felt like a hopeless wreck. I had given it everything, yet never once received so much as a flicker of tenderness from him.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Tucker stood there with irritation etched across his face.

"Willow, what the hell were you thinking today? Can't you just behave for once? Did you really have to make a scene at an event like that?"

I met his gaze. The disappointment I'd been holding back broke free at last.

Without saying a word, I pulled a document from the drawer and threw it in front of him. It was the divorce papers I had prepared.

He glanced at them, and a scowl formed on his face. With a scoff, he pushed them aside.

"Stop playing these foolish games. Do you really think anyone's buying your little stunts? If you hadn't begged me to marry you, do you honestly think I would've ever said yes?"

As I looked at him, the pain inside me slowly faded. It was replaced by a quiet, steady resolve.

"Yes, Tucker. I was the one who pushed for this marriage. I was the one who loved too deeply. I was wrong from the very start. And now, I regret everything. I want to end this."

He paused briefly. His lips curled up in a disdainful smirk. His voice remained cold and detached.

"Alright, alright. I get it. You've had a tough day."

He drummed his fingers on the table. "Anyway, I still have to help Shelby prepare for her next exhibition. Whatever this is between us, we'll talk when I get back."

Without another word, he turned and walked away, showing no hesitation or concern for what we once had.

I let out a bitter laugh as I watched his retreating figure. "What's left to say, Tucker? From the very beginning, I was the one trying to hold us together. You never cared."

He paused but didn't turn around. His voice was calm and almost detached.

"Here's one last piece of advice, Willow. Stop going after Shelby. As long as you behave like you know your place, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport."

I scoffed. In that moment, any lingering feelings I had were completely shattered.

Without hesitation, I signed the divorce papers and retrieved the passport and ID I had set aside.

At last, I removed the ill-fitting wedding ring from my finger and set it down on the papers.

For a fleeting moment, it felt as if I was shedding the weight of all the emotions I had carried for so long.