That morning, Daphne had scrolled through her feed and come across a new post.

There was a photo of an open gift box, brimming with expensive presents.

The caption read: [My boyfriend always buys me random things. Most of them are fine, but this scarf is hideous. Might as well tie it around the dog's neck!]

So this was the scarf Luke had given her—one that Seraphine had discarded like trash, something only fit for a dog.

Just like all the other gifts.

Ever since Seraphine returned, he had been giving Daphne presents more frequently. At first, she had thought it was love. But now she understood—these were the things Seraphine didn't want.

And yet, she had treated them like treasures. She had held onto them and cherished them. She had convinced herself they meant something.

Until she saw Seraphine's posts. One after another. And finally, she woke up from her dream.

"What's wrong, Daphne? You don't like it?"

Daphne tucked the scarf away and forced a faint smile. "I like it."

Luke let out a breath, relieved. He thought she had let it go. "Babe, don't overthink things. It's just a piece of paper. With or without it, I'll still love you just the same."

She pressed down the coldness in her chest. "I'm tired. Let's sleep."

"Alright."

Luke kissed her forehead lightly, never noticing the storm behind her eyes.

That night, as his breathing grew steady in sleep, Daphne lay awake in the dark.

Was it really just bad timing? Had he truly not been ready to marry her?

Or was it because his heart still belonged to someone else—that she was just Seraphine's replacement?

Last week, she had seen Seraphine for the first time.

She had gone to find Luke at his usual club. As she passed by a private room, she heard a voice she recognized.

She glanced inside.

There he was, holding a woman in his arms. His gaze was filled with deep, aching tenderness. His voice, thick with emotion, repeated the same name over and over.

"Seraphine… Seraphine…"

Each word was an arrow, piercing straight through her.

She froze, rooted to the floor.

In that moment, she finally understood—he had never been looking at her. He had only been seeing her through the shadow of someone else.

After that, she couldn't stop herself. She searched for Seraphine's social media.

She scrolled through post after post, her hands turning ice cold.

Then, a new update appeared before her eyes.

Seraphine had posted a photo of a milk tea shop on the outskirts of town. A tall man stood in line, his back to the camera.

The caption read: [Feels just like old times. No matter how long the line, you'd always wait if I wanted this milk tea.]

Daphne stared at the screen. Her mind went blank.

Seconds later, a comment popped up beneath it: [Seraphine, welcome home. From now on, your milk tea is on me.]

She clicked on the profile picture.

A simple avatar—two bold letters, LS, paired with a single white rose.

And in an instant, she knew. It was Luke's private account.

Suddenly, everything made sense.

The initials embroidered on his cuffs, and his inexplicable fondness for white roses. Everything led back to Seraphine.

That night, after Luke fell asleep, she couldn't help herself. She reached for his tablet and tried logging into his private account.

She tried her birthday. His birthday. Their anniversary. Even Seraphine's birthday. None of them worked.

Then she remembered a date she had seen in one of Seraphine's posts—the day they first got together.

She typed it in.

The screen shifted. She was in.

And what she found there felt like a knife twisting deep inside her.

Photo after photo—memories frozen in time.

The two of them at the beach, wrapped in each other's arms, love in their eyes vast enough to swallow the sea.

On a cobblestone path, he held an umbrella over her, gazing down at her like she was his entire world.

At the peak of a mountain, they watched the sunrise, their silhouettes outlined in gold. They brimmed with happiness, pure and untainted.

Every post, every caption, was a fragment of the love they had shared. And now, each one pressed down on Daphne like an unbearable weight, crushing her completely.

She didn't sleep that night.

And by morning, after hours of silent torment, she made her decision.

She would go home. She would accept the marriage her parents had arranged.

She wouldn't love Luke anymore.

The sun rose early on the mountaintop.

Daphne didn't know when she had fallen asleep, but when she woke, Luke was already gone.

Stepping outside, she vaguely heard his voice in the distance, speaking into the phone.

"Don't be mad, okay? I promise I'll be there for your birthday. I already bought that limited-edition bag you love."

A pause. Then, in a quieter voice— "Stop calling me. If Daphne hears, it won't be good."

The moment he hung up and turned around, their eyes met.

His gaze flickered, unreadable. "Daphne, you're up. Did you hear me on the phone?"

"I just got here when you hung up. Why?" she said, her expression calm.

Something wavered in his eyes—guilt, maybe—before he quickly stepped forward, wrapping an arm around her. "I didn't wake you because the fog was too thick. I figured there wouldn't be a sunrise anyway, so I let you sleep in."

Daphne nodded.

Luke seemed to want to say more, but just then, his phone rang again.

Glancing at the caller ID, he immediately said, "Daphne, I need to rush back to take care of some work. It's freezing up here—let me drive you home first."

Without waiting for her reply, he rushed inside to gather his things.

He didn't even notice how pale she was.

Of course. What could possibly be more important than spending Seraphine's birthday with her?

Luke was in a hurry. He drove really fast all the way back. When they reached her apartment, he barely slowed down.

He didn't walk her in.

Didn't even look back.

The car disappeared down the road before she even had time to react.

Daphne ordered takeout and ate alone.

Then, her phone rang. It was her father.

"Daphne, the Kingston family called. They're starting to prepare for the engagement ceremony. This is a lifetime decision. Are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure."

There was a time when she believed she and Luke were happy. But now, she realized—it had all been an illusion.

Maybe this relationship had been a mistake from the beginning.

Maybe he had never really let Seraphine go.

And maybe it was time to put an end to this fragile, crumbling thing between them.

Since Luke loved Seraphine that much, she'd give him back to her. Forever.

She hadn't slept at all the night before, and exhaustion soon crept up on her.

Just as she drifted off, half-awake, half-asleep, she heard Luke's voice.

"Sorry, Daphne, I probably won't be home tonight. There's still work to do at the company."

In an instant, her sleepiness vanished.

Before, when he told her he was working late, she never doubted him. But ever since she saw Seraphine's Instagram, she had realized just how many times he had used "work" as an excuse to lie to her.

This time was no different.

But strangely, her heart felt nothing. Just emptiness.

"Okay," she said. "Go ahead."

There was a brief silence.

Luke hesitated.

She used to question him and press him for answers. But now—now she just agreed, without a fight.

Something about that unsettled him.

He kissed her cheek, as if to reassure himself. "I won't be gone long. I'll be back before you know it. I know I've neglected you lately, Daphne. But we have a lifetime ahead of us."

Then, he turned and left.

Daphne watched him walk away, his silhouette growing smaller, until he was gone.

A quiet voice echoed in her mind, 'Luke, there is no "lifetime ahead of us". There won't be a "next time".'

When she woke the next morning, the sun was already high in the sky.

Luke had not come home.

Then, her phone rang.

It was one of his colleagues.

"Daphne, do you know why Luke didn't come to work today?"

Daphne froze. "He told me he was at the office all night."

Silence.

Then, hurriedly, Luke's colleague said, "Ah, never mind. Forget I said anything."

The call ended.

Daphne slowly opened her Instagram.

And there it was.

The first post on her feed.

[My boyfriend is the sweetest! I was scared of sleeping alone last night, so he came over to keep me company.]

The attached photo showed Luke holding Seraphine close, his gaze fixed on her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

Daphne took a deep breath and dialed his number.

It rang for a long time before he picked up. "What's wrong, Daphne?" His voice was hoarse, as if he had been busy with something.

"Are you coming home tonight?"

"Luke, don't..."

Suddenly, a soft, sultry voice drifted through the receiver, rich with teasing intimacy.

Daphne froze, nausea rising in waves.

There was a brief, fumbling silence before Luke shifted the phone away, his tone suddenly uneasy. "I'll probably be working late. Don't wait up."

And then he hung up.

Daphne forced herself to drink several gulps of water, but the nausea wouldn't fade. She rushed to the bathroom and dry-heaved until the sickness finally dulled to a distant ache.

In all the time they had been together, Luke had barely touched her. She had never seen him lose control around her.

Now, she understood.

It was never about restraint. It was about who he was with. And she sure wasn't Seraphine.

The rest of the day, she scrolled through social media like someone picking at an open wound, watching Luke wash Seraphine's hair, fold her clothes, cook her lunch—all the little things he used to dismiss as too troublesome to do for Daphne.

Then there was the amusement park. The Ferris wheel. The kiss at its highest point.

"They say if you kiss when the Ferris wheel reaches the top, you'll stay together forever."

Daphne saved the photos. She thought, 'Luke, fine. I wish you two a lifetime together. May you never be apart.'

He didn't come home until noon the next day.

There was guilt in his eyes, barely concealed under a layer of practiced nonchalance. "Daphne, you don't look well. Did you not sleep last night?" He reached out to hold her, but she sidestepped him.

The thought of where his arms had been just hours ago made her stomach churn.

Her silence weighed heavily between them. Luke looked at her, an inexplicable tightness pressing against his chest. She was right in front of him, but she had never felt farther away.

"Daphne, I know I've been neglecting you because of work. Our anniversary is coming up. I swear, I'll make it up to you. Let's celebrate properly, okay?"

Daphne forced a smile. "Okay."

Luke visibly relaxed, not bothering to think any further.

When the day arrived, he was in an uncharacteristically good mood, making conversation on the way to the restaurant, coaxing her into laughter. It was a beautiful and romantic French place.

Just as they had placed their orders, his phone rang.

The name on the screen made his brows crease.

He hesitated for only a moment before saying, "Daphne, I need to take this."

She nodded. She already knew who that was.

Not long after, he returned, wearing an expression of conflicted remorse. "Daphne, I'm so sorry. An executive from the company is making a surprise visit. I have to go back and handle it..."

"Okay." She cut him off before he could finish his excuse.

Luke blinked, momentarily speechless.

"Work is important," she said gently. "You're doing this for our future. I understand."

Relief washed over his face, gratitude even. "You're the best, Daphne. I promise I'll make it up to you next time."

'There won't be a next time, Luke,' Daphne thought.

She sat alone, eating the cake she had ordered in advance. When her tears fell, they landed in the frosting. She took a bite.

Bitter. Salty. Not sweet at all.

Afterward, she started packing.

She called a courier service to send off the things she had accumulated over five years. Clothes, books, stuffed animals, blankets—bags and bags filled with them, all going to the orphanage.

She also gathered the gifts she and Luke had exchanged on holidays and anniversaries, stuffing them into a separate box for donation.

Not a single item was a couple's set because Luke had always refused.

"Daphne, I'm too old for that kind of thing. Couple sets are for kids. Don't make me do it, okay?"

She had believed him. Until she saw the photos.

Photos of matching hats, matching gloves, matching backpacks...

With Seraphine, he didn't seem to mind at all.

She was signing for the courier when Luke came home.

He glanced at the packages in the truck. "Daphne, what are these?"