I clumsily got up from the ground, brushing off the thick layer of dust that had settled on my nightgown.

The fire illuminated my features with a warm glow, but my voice was as cold as ice. "Calm down. I opened it earlier and saw something crawling inside. It was probably some cockroaches, so I burned it."

Seeing my disheveled state, Carl seemed to realize he had overreacted.

He took a deep breath and softened his tone. "Are you okay? I'm sorry. I was just anxious. We've kept that album for ten years. Didn't we agree to show it to everyone after we got married?

"Why did you burn it all of a sudden? If there were cockroaches, you could've waited for me to return or sent me a message. I would've handled it."

The man standing before me was no longer the boy who had once vowed to protect me for life.

I couldn't even bear to look at him.

"You've been busy with work, and you're hardly home. It was just a small matter and not worth bothering you with. Besides, Carl, not a single thing in that album was meant for me. For ten years, you did manage to gather all sorts of rabbit-themed items from around the world. But, you forgot..."

I paused, then let out an indifferent yet resigned laugh. "You forgot what I actually like."

His eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

I met his gaze and uttered slowly, "I don't even like rabbits."

Carl stood frozen next to me, his eyes filled with guilt.

How ironic this moment was.

While Carl had always played the role of the devoted lover, he didn't even know what the woman he claimed to have loved for a decade truly liked.

On the other hand, he remembered every little detail about the preferences of his secretary, whom he'd only known for a few months.

I turned to leave, but he mistook my action for a tantrum.

Grabbing my arm, he pulled me into his embrace.

His scent surrounded me, but instead of comfort, it made me feel sick.

Holding me tightly, he spoke with concern, "Are you feeling unwell? I'm sorry. I admit I've been too busy lately and neglected your feelings. Once I wrap up these projects, I'll take you out to buy whatever gifts you like, okay? Double the amount, even!"

If I had heard this in the past, I might have lost all reason and forgiven him.

But after being rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment that one time, I didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

I simply couldn't bring myself to keep pretending that everything was fine when he had forgotten my life-threatening allergy to please another woman.

Once he calmed down, I firmly pried his arms away and said, "You don't need to apologize. If you feel that guilty, throw me a proper birthday party."

Throughout our years together, I'd never had a real birthday celebration because Carl was always too busy with his startup business.

Nonetheless, since I was leaving in two days, I wanted to experience it with him just once.

My simple request caused a flash of panic to cross his face, and unease crept into his expression.

Carl nodded in agreement. But before he could say anything further, his phone rang.

With a glance at the screen, he hurriedly explained, "The pack's meeting has been rescheduled. I have to head back immediately to deal with it.

"Once the resource allocation is finalized, combined with your parents' support, my plan to succeed as the Moonstone Pack's leader will be solid. Don't wait up for me tonight. I promise I'll keep my word about the party."

He was already backing toward the door as he spoke, and the moment he finished, he was out the door.

I stood still while listening to the distinctive ringtone fade away.

It was Ivy's personalized ringtone.

I knew it well, but I didn't call him out on it.

The next morning, party planners arrived at the house.

Ivy came along too.

With a bright smile, she said, "Blaire, I designed the party layout, so I came to oversee things."

She stood there, confident and composed, as though she owned the place.

By evening, after a whole day of preparation, I realized that the setup looked oddly familiar. It was a simplified version of Ivy's previous birthday party.

Once the staff left, Ivy walked over to me with a smug smile and remarked provocatively, "Blaire, everyone worked hard today. What do you think? Does it suit you?"

I stared at the ring on her finger—the very one I'd lost.

My voice turned icy as I replied, "Secondhand items suit you well. Keep them for yourself."

The words had barely left my lips when she glanced to the side, then grabbed a decorative silver knife from the cabinet and slashed her own arm. Blood dripped as she whimpered pitifully.

Before I could react, Carl had already slapped me across the face.

"Have you had enough? Ivy took time off to help organize your party, and this is how you repay her? If you're not happy with it, then do it yourself!"

Without giving me a chance to explain, he stormed out with Ivy in his arms.

I spent the entire night alone in the lively yet hollow living room.

By morning, no one had shown up for the party.

Of course, no one would come. Over the past ten years, it had always just been me, orbiting around Carl.

When the birthday cake arrived, I opened the box, cut a small slice for myself, and lit a tiny candle. Closing my eyes, I made a wish.

I wished to never see him again.

Because Ivy had deliberately chosen a mango-flavored cake, I couldn't eat it due to my allergy.

When the countdown ended and my phone buzzed loudly with a reminder, I picked up my suitcase and left the Moonstone Pack without looking back.

On my train, which was heading to another pack, I sent Carl one final text message.

"We're over. Don't contact me again."

It wasn't even a breakup.

One word was enough to bid farewell to ten years of my youth and my obsession with Carl.

As the train whistle sounded and it began to pull away, my phone lit up with a flurry of calls from him.