“Are you sure you still want to hold the welcome party?” Matthew asked.

He looked uneasy. “Also… We need to talk.”

“Talk about what?” I kept sorting through the documents without looking up.

“Talk about us.”

He caught my hand. “I know you’re angry, but—”

“Matthew,” I pulled my hand free, “the welcome party is already arranged. You don’t need to worry.”

He stared at me for a long time. “Ava… you’re not the same as before.”

“What’s different?”

“You’re too calm.” He frowned.

“Before, you would—”

“Cry and make a scene, right?” I met his eyes.

“People grow up.”

“About that marriage certificate—”

“I’m tired,” I said as I rose to my feet.

“Let’s talk tomorrow.”

At the door, I turned back for a moment. He was still standing there, wearing a look of panic I had never seen before.

That afternoon, Matthew left with Sophie and Ella.

Before he went, he made a point to tell me, “Prepare for tomorrow’s welcome party properly. Don’t disappoint me.”

Don’t disappoint him? I gave a cold smile.

I certainly wouldn’t.

By evening, the party company arrived to set up the venue.

“Ms. Vanguard, the backdrop is ready. Would you like to see it?”

The massive backdrop stood in the center of the living room—an image of Matthew and Sophie, naked and tangled together, every detail sharp and undeniable.

“Perfect,” I said.

“Cover it with a cloth, and don’t reveal it until tomorrow.”

“Ms. Vanguard, this is—”

“Do as I say.”

The workers exchanged uneasy glances but obeyed.

At ten o’clock, Matthew and the others returned.

Ella had fallen asleep, and Matthew carried her upstairs.

Sophie followed behind, deliberately speaking loudly.

“Ella said she wants to sleep with Papa and Mama tonight.”

Papa and Mama.

I stood at the foot of the stairs, watching the three of them disappear into the room together.

A family of three, warm and harmonious.

And me—I was the extra.

I walked into the study, opened the safe, and took out every important document: property deeds, car titles, bankbooks, and that joke of a marriage certificate.

I tore the certificate into pieces—strip by strip—until my fingers went numb.

Midnight.

The countdown hit zero.

I deleted the countdown app from my phone, erasing it the same way I erased the five wasted years of my life.

I closed my eyes as tears slid down my cheeks.

Goodbye, my foolish love.

By ten in the morning, the welcome party began as planned.

Matthew stood at the front door, greeting guests.

Sophie clung to his arm, while Ella, dressed in a princess gown, stood beside them.

“Congratulations, Mr. Spark. Your daughter is beautiful.”

“Yes, she looks just like you—no doubt she’s Daddy’s little girl.”

The guests’ flattery seemed to unsettle Matthew.

He glanced around. “Where’s Ava?”

“She left early this morning…” Mary answered.

Then she whispered, “With her luggage.”

A weight sank in Matthew’s chest.

He pulled out his phone to call me, but I had switched it off.

“All the guests are here. Let’s start,” Sophie urged, tugging his arm.

Suppressing his unease, Matthew stepped to the center of the living room.

A massive red cloth covered the backdrop I had prepared.

“Today is a special day,” Matthew began.

“Thank you for coming to Ella’s welcome party.” He reached for the cloth.

“Let’s all welcome—”

The cloth fell away, revealing a 3-meter-by-5-meter photograph.

In it, Matthew had Sophie pinned beneath him, their bodies intertwined in crystal-clear detail.

The room went dead silent—then erupted.

“Oh my God!”

“What the heck is this?”

“Mr. Spark had an affair?”