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.

Until New Year’s Eve, Sebastian still didn’t return. As the hours ticked by, the emptiness in the house grew unbearable, and Abigail made another call.

This time, when she was about to give up, he answered.

“Hello, what’s the matter?” His voice was cold, impatient, as if her call was an inconvenience.

Abigail’s heart clenched, but she forced herself to speak softly. “Sebastian, can we celebrate the New Year together today?”

A beat of silence followed, then his tone turned sharper. “Did I tell you not to call me that again? I find it disgusting. And New Year’s Eve? It’s just part of an agreement. Don’t take it seriously.”

The dull ache in her chest sharpened, piercing her like a knife. She swallowed hard, trying to push back the tears threatening to spill.

“Sebastian, I—”

Before she could say more, a cheerful voice interrupted. Gabriella’s voice, bright and carefree, was unmistakable.

“Sebastian, the fireworks are starting! Come quickly!”

“Okay,” he responded, his tone so gentle it was unrecognizable from the one he’d just used with her.

And then, without another word, the call ended.

Abigail sat frozen, the phone still in her hand. Outside, the sound of fireworks erupted, echoing through the quiet of the house. She walked to the balcony, her gaze blank as she looked up at the sky.

The fireworks were just as dazzling as ever, their vibrant colors painting the night. But to her, they felt gray and lifeless, drained of all their beauty.

The thought of Sebastian being with someone else, cherishing someone else, tore at her heart. It was as if every breath came with a fresh wound, stabbing deeper and deeper until the pain became unbearable.

After midnight, her phone buzzed unexpectedly. It was an email notification. She glanced at the sender and froze.

It was from Sebastian.

Her fingers trembled as she opened the email. Inside was a video.

When she clicked play, his face appeared on the screen.

“Abigail, Abby, baby, my wife,” he began, his voice tender and affectionate. “This is the third year we’ve been together. While recording this, I realized just how much more I’ve grown to love you—and I know I’ll keep loving you even more in the future.”

He chuckled softly, his dark eyes sparkling with emotion. “I’ve been thinking about what you said about wanting to travel and get married. Because of my family, I haven’t been able to give you a proper wedding yet. But next year, on our anniversary, let’s make it happen, okay? I’ve already started planning it.”

His smile deepened, pure happiness lighting up his face. It was a version of him she hadn’t seen in so long—a version she thought she’d lost forever.

The video ended, but Abigail sat motionless, unable to process what she’d just seen. She replayed it, again and again, clinging to his words and the warmth in his gaze.

But before she could fully absorb the bittersweet emotions welling inside her, her phone buzzed again.

It was another video.

This time, as she opened it, her world shattered anew.

The screen showed Sebastian and Gabriella. He was wrapping a scarf around her neck with the utmost care, his eyes filled with unmistakable tenderness—as if she were the only person who mattered in the world.

Gabriella reached up, gently stopping him. “Sebastian, isn’t this the scarf Abigail knitted for you? I shouldn’t wear it—it wouldn’t be right.”

Abigail’s eyes darted to the scarf, and her breath caught in her throat. It was the one she had painstakingly knitted for Sebastian on their second anniversary.

Abigail’s mind spiraled as she stared at the paused video. Her fingers hovered over her phone screen, trembling.

She pressed play again.

The memory of Sebastian’s reaction when she gave him the scarf resurfaced vividly. His smile had been radiant, his joy uncontainable.

“Abby, I like it very much,” he had said, immediately wrapping it around his neck. “I’ll definitely cherish it.”

That moment had felt like a promise, one of countless assurances of their love.

But now, in the video, his words cut through her like shards of glass.

“Don’t be in a bad mood,” Sebastian said softly to Gabriella. “Wear it obediently. You’ll be cold later.”

He adjusted the scarf around her neck with a tenderness that was once hers. “If Gabriella doesn’t like it, you can do whatever you want with this scarf. But for now, you must wear it.”

Abigail’s heart clenched as she watched him hand over the scarf she had painstakingly knitted—a symbol of her love—and tell Gabriella she could treat it however she wished.

The video ended abruptly, leaving her staring at the empty screen, her chest tightening with unbearable pain.

Before she could process the hurt, another notification lit up her phone. It was a text message from an unknown number.

With trembling hands, she opened it.

The words hit her like a thunderclap:

"Sebastian only likes me now. He hates you so much. If you ask me, you should give up your position as soon as possible."

Abigail's hand clenched around the phone so tightly that she didn’t notice the pain until it became unbearable. Slowly, she loosened her grip and placed the phone down, her fingers trembling.

She raised her eyes to the dark night sky outside, her gaze hollow and unfocused. A single question echoed in her mind: Is Sebastian still the man I knew?

How could someone change so much in just a single week?

Her thoughts spiraled back to the video, replaying it in her mind over and over again, as though dissecting it might somehow restore the man she loved. She clung to memories of the past, the weight of nostalgia, the only thing anchoring her as she stumbled through this thorny path.

As she had come to expect, Sebastian didn’t return that night. The once warm and lively bed felt unbearably cold, and she fell asleep with tears staining her pillow.

The next morning, Abigail sat at the dining table, eating breakfast in the silence that had become her new normal. The sound of the villa door opening startled her, and she looked up to see Sebastian entering.

Her heart stirred involuntarily, and she rose to greet him, the name slipping from her lips out of habit. “Sebastian...”

He didn’t even glance her way. His voice was ice when he said, “I told you not to call me that.”

Without waiting for a response, he strode upstairs, his back turned to her.

Abigail stood frozen in place, staring blankly at him as he disappeared. Habits weren’t so easy to change. For almost four years, she had called him that, and he had always corrected her whenever she used his full name, insisting it made them sound too distant.

But now...

A few minutes later, he came back down, dressed in fresh clothes.

“Sebastian, where are you going?” she asked, this time remembering his demand.

Her attempt to comply didn’t placate him. His dissatisfaction lingered, though even he couldn’t quite explain it. Irritation flashed in his eyes as he snapped, “Do I need to report to you where I’m going?”

She bit back a response, letting the question hang in the air as he walked out the door.

At six in the evening, her phone buzzed, breaking the uneasy quiet of the day. She picked it up and saw his name on the screen.

His voice on the other end was curt, almost mechanical. “Take the ‘Ivory Dream’ and come to the Golden Sands Banquet Hall.”

Before she could respond, the line went dead.

Abigail stared at the phone, her mind struggling to process his words. Ivory Dream. Her fingers instinctively reached for the necklace—a delicate crescent moon pendant he had given her on their first anniversary. Back then, his words had been tender: “You’re my Abby, my dream. This is for you, my light.”

But now, his cold tone made the memory feel like a cruel mockery.

Her chest tightened as she glanced at the clock. Why would he call her to a banquet on New Year’s Day? And why specifically ask her to wear this necklace?

Ivory Dream was the wedding gift Sebastian had given her on their wedding day. It was no ordinary necklace, but a set of crown-shaped necklaces, each meticulously crafted with exquisite detail. The set was incredibly expensive, and there was only one in existence—created solely for her.

Abigail had never worn it casually, always too afraid of damaging it. She reserved it for only the most important occasions.

Tonight, as she prepared to leave, she climbed upstairs to change into a chest-wrapped dress that would complement the necklace’s brilliance. The pendant settled on her skin, its delicate silver gleaming against her fair complexion, making her look even more striking than usual.

She hailed a taxi and made her way to the Golden Sands Banquet Hall. When she arrived, she stepped out of the car, her heart fluttering with anticipation. Her eyes immediately found Sebastian standing at the entrance. She assumed he was waiting for her, so she hurried toward him.

But as she drew closer, her heart sank. There, standing beside him, was Gabriella. Her presence, so familiar and yet so foreign, crushed Abigail’s spirits in an instant.

Sebastian’s gaze flickered over to her, but instead of the warmth she had once known, his expression darkened.

"Why are you dressed like this?" he asked, his voice colder than she remembered.

Abigail froze. Her mind raced as she realized her mistake—he hadn’t asked her to attend the banquet at all. She had misunderstood everything.

Embarrassment flooded through her, and she nervously pinched her fingers together, unsure of how to explain herself.

Sebastian, however, didn’t seem to care about the miscommunication. His focus was elsewhere.

"Where is the necklace?" he asked bluntly.

Abigail instinctively touched the necklace around her neck, her brow furrowing in confusion. Was he planning to sell it?

But her assumptions were wrong. The reality was far more cruel than she had imagined.

Sebastian’s voice was sharp and emotionless. “Take it off.”

She stood frozen, her breath catching in her throat.

Sebastian’s patience seemed to snap. Without another word, he grabbed her by the arm, roughly turning her away from him. As her neck was exposed, he swiftly removed the necklace, his fingers cold against her skin.

Abigail’s heart pounded in her chest as she slowly turned to face him.

What she saw made her world come crashing down.

Sebastian, holding the necklace in his hand, walked past her and toward Gabriella. With an almost tender gesture, he lifted Gabriella’s long hair and placed the precious wedding gift—Ivory Dream—around her neck.