Abigail stood outside the expansive French window, the Christmas cake she had brought clutched tightly in her hands. The warmth of the scene inside contrasted starkly with the biting cold around her. She stared, unmoving, as her heart grew heavier with every passing second.

“Gabriella has endured so much over the past two years, but it’s all in the past now,” Olivia Montgomery said gently, running her fingers through Gabriella’s hair. “My son has always loved you, and that’s what matters. He’s just fulfilling his obligations to Abigail before he can give you the life you deserve.”

Gabriella smiled softly, her tone filled with sweetness. “Don’t worry, Auntie. I know Sebastian loves me. That alone is enough.”

She turned her gaze to Sebastian, her eyes brimming with affection.

Sebastian lowered his head to meet her gaze, his expression tender, his voice steady. “Gabriella, once I’ve repaid what I owe, I will marry you.”

Gabriella’s cheeks flushed. She nodded shyly before stepping forward to embrace him.

Inside the house, the scene was one of pure harmony. The living room glowed warmly under the soft light of a massive Christmas tree, its branches laden with ornaments. Piles of wrapped gifts surrounded its base, completing the picture of festive joy. It was a tableau of love and belonging—a perfect match, as if nothing in the world could disrupt it.

Outside, the bitter wind stung Abigail’s face, but the ache in her chest burned far worse. Her grip on the cake faltered, and it fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

The pain coursing through her was unbearable, as if a blade had carved through her heart. Every breath felt like a knife twisting deeper. She stood there, a silent, unseen figure—a ghost in the shadows, watching a happiness that was once hers.

Her gaze lingered on Sebastian as he bent down to pick out a gift for Gabriella, his focus entirely on the woman beside him. Abigail’s stomach churned. He’s my husband, she thought bitterly, yet the scene before her denied it.

Unable to watch any longer, she turned and walked away, her footsteps light but unsteady, carrying her farther from the glowing warmth of the house. No one inside noticed her presence—her coming, her leaving, or the broken cake lying in the snow.

Abigail clutched at her chest as she disappeared into the cold night. The memory of how she and Sebastian met surfaced briefly. She had saved his life once.

This incident marked the beginning of their intertwined fates. Sebastian, out of gratitude, often gave Abigail small gifts to thank her. Over time, his visits became more frequent, his gratitude evolving into admiration. Before long, he realized he had fallen in love with her and began to pursue her wholeheartedly.

Their love story blossomed effortlessly. On campus, they were the couple everyone envied—young, vibrant, and seemingly unstoppable. Campus love, pure and passionate, painted their days with joy.

Sebastian’s gestures of love were grand and heartfelt. Once, while preparing a surprise for her, he was mistakenly taken away by the security guards. Instead of defending himself, he used his energy to comfort Abigail, gently reassuring her, “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” The incident only deepened their bond, and soon everyone on campus believed they were destined for marriage after graduation.

He had promised her, “I will marry you. No matter what, you’re my future.”

But life, as it often does, threw obstacles in their path. The disparity between their worlds loomed large. Sebastian was the only son of the noble Montgomery Family, while Abigail came from a modest background.

When Olivia learned of their plans to marry, she vehemently opposed the union. Her disapproval came with sharp words and threats. “I’ll give you ten million to leave my son. Otherwise, with your background, you’ll struggle to find a job as a mere college graduate.”

But Abigail’s resolve didn’t waver. She refused the money and chose love over fear. When Sebastian learned of this, he held her hand and declared, “If my mother doesn’t agree, so be it. This is our life, Abby, not hers. I will marry you.”

Defying his family, Sebastian secretly registered their marriage. On the night they received their certificate, he held her close and whispered, “Abby, I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. I’ll never let you suffer.”

For a time, he kept his promise. Their days were filled with love, and their bond grew stronger. But when Olivia discovered their secret, she was furious. She forcibly brought Sebastian home and confined him for several days. Even then, Sebastian shielded Abigail from harm, refusing to let his mother hurt her.

Two months ago, Abigail found out she was pregnant. The news filled Sebastian with joy; he was so ecstatic he didn’t sleep all night. They felt as though they were finally moving toward their ultimate happiness.

But fate intervened cruelly.

Half a month ago, they were in a car accident. Abigail lost their unborn child, and Sebastian lost most of his memories from college onward. The tragedy left Abigail devastated, but worse was yet to come.

Olivia seized the opportunity to manipulate the situation. She concocted a lie, whispering poison into Sebastian’s ears. “That woman only married you out of obligation. She saved your life and used it to manipulate you into a three-year marriage. The truth is, you’ve always loved Gabriella.”

Olivia went as far as forging a nonexistent contract, fabricating evidence to support her lies.

Sebastian, clinging to fragmented memories of Gabriella, found no trace of Abigail in his recollection. The false narrative spun by his mother took root, and he chose to believe her over the stranger Abigail had become in his mind.

Despite Abigail’s desperate attempts to explain, her words fell on deaf ears. To him, she was now just a woman repaying a favor, and his disdain for her was blatant in his every action.

After walking aimlessly for what felt like an eternity, Abigail’s strength finally gave out. She sank to the ground, clutching her chest as pain rippled through her heart.

Tears streamed down her face, one after another, as she stifled her cries with a trembling hand. Her shoulders quivered under the weight of her grief, her vulnerability laid bare to the cold, indifferent night.

Time seemed to blur—minutes, maybe an hour—until the sudden ringing of her phone jolted her back to reality.

Sniffling, Abigail wiped the tears from her face and steadied her voice before answering.

“Abigail, have you decided about the follow-up on the research project? Do you want to join?”

The voice on the other end was calm, professional. It was about a confidential project, one that promised secrecy and a chance to disappear. If she joined, her whereabouts would be strictly hidden—a clean break from everything.

Her thoughts wavered. Memories of the past flooded her mind. Sebastian has only lost his memory. Love doesn’t just vanish. Maybe… maybe I should wait.

“I’ll think about it, Director,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Snowflakes began to fall from the sky, delicate and silent. This year’s snow came early, and it was growing heavier by the minute. Abigail had no choice but to make her way home through the thickening storm.

By the time she reached the villa, her coat was soaked through. Shivering, she opened the door.

Inside, the warmth of the living room was starkly contrasted by the scene before her—several people were already seated on the sofa, chatting and watching TV.

As Abigail stepped into the warmth of the house, the snow on her coat began to melt, forming small puddles at her feet. Her frozen hands slowly regained feeling, tingling with the sensation of warmth.

She walked past the group on the sofa, her wet footsteps faintly audible against the floorboards. Just as she reached the stairs, Sebastian’s voice cut through the low hum of conversation.

“Abigail.”

He had never addressed her with such formality before. The weight of his tone made her stop in her tracks. She turned, a flicker of hope glimmering in her eyes—a hope she didn’t even realize she carried.

But his next words extinguished that fragile spark, plunging her back into the cold.

“There’s so much water on you. Don’t track it everywhere. Gabriella might slip. Go stand by the door and dry off before coming in.”

He never once looked at her. His gaze remained fixed elsewhere, concern only for Gabriella’s safety—not for Abigail, shivering in her soaked clothes.

Her heart tightened, the pain a dull, relentless ache, as though a hand had clenched around it. She turned back towards the door, the faint laughter from inside the house piercing her like shards of ice.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, soft and silent. She stared at it, memories surfacing unbidden.

Every year, when the first snow arrived, Sebastian had insisted they watch it together. He once believed in the superstition—that those who watched the first snow together would stay together forever. He had always held her close, shielding her from the cold, his warmth a barrier against the chill.

Now, the irony was almost cruel. The man who once protected her from the snow had left her to stand alone in it.

When she finally reentered the house, the warmth that greeted her felt hollow. The living room was dark; the laughter was gone. They had forgotten her entirely, retreating to their rooms without a second thought.

She smiled bitterly to herself, climbing the stairs to the bathroom. The shower’s hot water stung her icy skin, but it couldn’t thaw the cold in her heart.

Returning to the bedroom, she slipped quietly into bed, careful not to disturb Sebastian. But as she settled, he shifted deliberately, moving further away from her.

It was a small, wordless gesture, but it hit her harder than any insult. His avoidance felt like a declaration: she was unwelcome, untouchable—a virus he couldn’t escape.

Her body froze, the weight of his rejection paralyzing her. She lay motionless, unsure if she could even breathe without it breaking her completely.

“Are you going to sleep or not?” His impatient voice cut through the silence like a blade.

Abigail swallowed the bitterness welling up inside her and lay down, tears slipping silently down her cheeks, disappearing into the fabric of her pillow. The pain in her chest felt like an endless weight pressing down on her, but she remained quiet, unwilling to let the sobs escape.

The next morning, she rose early to make breakfast. As she entered the kitchen, she noticed the house was quieter than usual. A quick glance confirmed it—Olivia and Gabriella had left. A small sense of relief washed over her, a momentary reprieve from their constant scrutiny.

She set the table just as Sebastian came downstairs, adjusting a tie that hung awkwardly around his neck. Instinctively, Abigail stepped forward to help him. Her hands reached for the tie, but he waved her away, his gesture sharp and dismissive.

In that moment, the realization hit her again—he couldn’t stand her touch anymore.

Sebastian continued his clumsy attempt to fix the tie, fumbling with the knot until it was barely passable. Frustration flickered across his face, though he tried to mask it.

Why? he wondered silently. Why can’t I even tie a simple tie anymore?

The answer was plain, though he wouldn’t admit it to himself—he had never learned because Abigail had always done it for him.

When breakfast was ready, they sat at the table. Abigail mustered her courage to speak, her voice steady despite the storm inside her.

“Sebastian,” she began, her tone pleading. “Your mother lied to you. We truly loved each other. It wasn’t an agreement or a threat. Please, you have to believe—”

“Enough!” Sebastian’s hand slammed against the table, the sharp sound echoing in the room. He stood abruptly, his glare cutting through her like a blade.

“Stop spouting nonsense. When the agreed time is up, I’ll divorce you. You’d better behave yourself until then, or I won’t even wait that long!”

His words dripped with anger and disgust, his eyes cold and unyielding.

Abigail felt as though her heart was being strangled, the pain wrapping itself around her like an unrelenting vine. She stared at him, her chest heaving with the weight of words left unsaid.

Why? She asked herself for the hundredth time. Why would he believe me now when he didn’t before?

Her lips twisted into a bitter smile as she lowered her gaze, resigning herself to silence. She returned to her breakfast, her appetite lost but unwilling to show the depth of her hurt.

Once, Abigail had never needed to cook. Sebastian had always insisted on taking care of meals himself or calling their housekeeper when he was too busy.

But after his car accident and subsequent discharge from the hospital, everything changed.

“Why don’t you cook when there’s no one else here?” he’d snapped one day, his voice laced with disdain. “You don’t even know how to do something as simple as this?”

His words had stung, treating her not as a partner but as a servant.

It was Abigail’s first time in the kitchen, but Sebastian’s reaction was as cold and predictable as ever. He took one bite, his expression hardening instantly, and pushed the plate to the middle of the table. The disdain in his eyes was undisguised, a silent declaration of her inadequacy.

The sharp ring of his phone broke the oppressive silence. He glanced at the screen, and his demeanor shifted. Without hesitation, he answered, his voice softening with unmistakable joy.

“Gabriella?”

The sound of that name made Abigail’s hand, holding her chopsticks, freeze in midair. The dining room fell silent again, but Gabriella’s sweet, coquettish voice on the other end of the line was painfully clear.

“Sebastian, the breakfast my aunt made isn’t good. Can you cook for me instead? I only want to eat what you make.”

A tender smile crept onto Sebastian’s face, and he replied indulgently, “Alright. I’ll make you whatever you want.”

The scrape of a chair being pushed back snapped Abigail out of her daze. She looked up just in time to see him stand and walk out the door, the sound of it slamming shut ringing in her ears.

Left alone, Abigail forced herself to continue eating. Each bite felt mechanical, and tears welled up in her eyes as she struggled to swallow. Her heart was a storm of pain and confusion, the ache in her chest nearly suffocating.

Once upon a time, those same words had been meant for her.

“You don’t have to cook. I’ll make you whatever you want to eat,” he used to say, his voice filled with warmth.

The words hadn’t changed, but the person they were meant for had.

The following days passed in emptiness. Sebastian didn’t return, and the coldness in the house deepened as New Year’s Eve approached.

Summoning her courage, Abigail sent him a few messages.

When will you be back? Will we spend New Year’s Eve together?

Her heart ached as she typed those words, memories flooding her mind. Every year before this, Sebastian had insisted they spend New Year’s Eve together. He had even made her swear to it as if their shared celebration was sacred.

But now, the oath seemed forgotten.

The messages remained unanswered, her screen a stark reminder of his silence.