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.

After Sebastian placed the necklace around Gabriella’s neck, he stepped back to admire her, his gaze lingering with a hint of satisfaction. He spoke with a careful precision, "Gabriella is more suited to it. It truly accentuates her nobility."

The implication was clear—Abigail wasn’t worthy of the necklace.

A sharp pain pierced Abigail’s chest, a needle-like sting that left her unable to move. Her hands trembled, and for a moment, she felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders.

Just then, a man approached Sebastian, his gaze briefly flicking to Abigail before he asked with a hint of curiosity, “I know this is the future Mrs. Montgomery—who is she?”

The man was referring to Gabriella as the future Mrs. Montgomery, of course. But it was the second part of his question that struck Abigail like a blow.

Sebastian, without hesitation, glanced at Abigail and replied coldly, “The nanny at home.”

The man’s face froze in confusion. “The nanny is dressed like this?”

Without missing a beat, Sebastian’s voice took on an icy edge. “Don’t recognize your identity?”

His words landed like a slap. The cruel irony in his tone made her feel as though she were being stripped bare, her dignity torn to pieces before a crowd. The beautiful dress that had once made her feel elegant now only seemed to amplify her humiliation.

The man looked at her with a mixture of confusion and judgment, his eyes carrying an unspoken accusation. Abigail felt exposed, as though she were naked in front of the world, vulnerable to their cruel stares.

The banquet began, and the crowd poured into the hall. Sebastian cast one last glance at Abigail, her head bowed in silence. A strange discomfort twisted in his gut, and his heart tightened. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make him frown. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice stiff, “You follow.”

He then offered his arm to Gabriella, leading her into the venue with an easy, practiced grace. Abigail trailed behind them like a shadow, her steps heavy with the weight of her own self-loathing. She fought to keep her composure, her smile a brittle mask of self-deprecation.

As the evening wore on, Abigail watched in silence as Sebastian doted on Gabriella. He stopped her from drinking too much, gently wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin, and even adjusting the lipstick on her lips with a careful hand.

Abigail’s chest tightened with each movement. It was all too familiar. She had once been the recipient of his tender care, his lips brushing against hers as he wiped away lipstick, his hands the ones to fix her makeup. But now, she was nothing more than an observer.

Watching him attend to Gabriella in the same way, Abigail’s heart shattered. The pain was unbearable, and she couldn’t stand to watch anymore. She turned away, retreating to the side of the room.

Meanwhile, Sebastian, still absorbed in helping Gabriella with her lipstick, felt a strange sense of déjà vu. He didn’t know why he was so skilled at this—why it felt so natural. What he didn’t realize was that he had learned it all from another girl, a girl who was now a distant memory.

Abigail stood off to the side, the wine glass in her hand trembling slightly as she gazed distantly at the scene unfolding before her. Just as she was about to turn and leave, Gabriella approached her with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Abigail," she began, her voice smooth yet laced with a cutting edge, "you saw it today, didn’t you? Sebastian loves me so much. Don’t you feel heartbroken?"

Abigail’s expression didn’t waver. She didn’t flinch, nor did she respond. Gabriella, undeterred, continued with a mocking sweetness, "Leave early, and maybe your heart won’t hurt so much. I’m being sincere when I say, you should leave as soon as you can."

The words pierced her heart, but she maintained her composure, her face a mask of indifference. She didn’t give Gabriella the satisfaction of a reaction.

Gabriella, however, was unfazed. She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw Sebastian making his way toward them. With a swift, subtle motion, she tugged at the tablecloth.

A champagne tower teetered dangerously on the edge of the table, and with the slightest pull, it collapsed, sending cascading glasses hurtling toward Abigail.

Before she could react, the cold liquid splashed over her, and the glasses shattered upon impact, their sharp edges cutting into her exposed skin. The pain was immediate and intense, the shards of glass embedding themselves in her flesh. She cried out, but the sound was muffled by the sharp sting of pain that overwhelmed her. In her high heels, her balance faltered, and she crashed to the ground, the sharp glass fragments piercing her skin further.

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she lay amidst the broken glass. The pain was excruciating, but her heart hurt even more—aching for the love she had once known.

Through her tears, she looked up. The sight before her was like a cruel irony: Sebastian, who should have been the one to help her, was instead rushing to Gabriella’s side. He held her tightly, his face filled with concern as he checked her for injuries.

Gabriella had only suffered a minor scratch on her finger, yet Sebastian was beside himself with worry. His focus was entirely on her, his face etched with anxiety and urgency.

In that moment, Sebastian caught sight of Abigail, lying on the ground, her body bruised and bleeding from the glass shards. A sharp stab of pain shot through his chest, his heart suddenly aching in a way he couldn’t comprehend. His eyes met hers, and for just a moment, there was a flicker of something—something deep and unspoken.

But it was gone in an instant, buried beneath the surface of his cold, controlled exterior. He quickly turned his attention back to Gabriella, his face a mask of concern, though his eyes still betrayed a flicker of something else. Something he couldn’t recognize, or perhaps didn’t want to.

Abigail lay there, the tears staining her cheeks, her heart feeling more shattered than the glass around her.

Before he could process the situation, Gabriella in his arms let out a soft, pained moan. Immediately, Sebastian’s attention snapped to her, his concern deepening. Without a second thought, he bent down and lifted her into his arms, cradling her carefully as he walked swiftly toward the door, his focus solely on Gabriella.

He didn’t spare a glance at Abigail, the woman he once knew. The sight of them leaving together, so effortlessly and intimately, was enough to send a deep, aching pain through Abigail’s chest. It felt as though her heart had been dropped from an immense height, only to shatter upon impact, pieces scattered beyond repair.

She stood there, frozen for a moment, watching them disappear. The emptiness left in their wake threatened to consume her. With trembling hands, she struggled to rise, the pain in her body flaring up, sending sharp waves of agony through her limbs. The more she moved, the more intense the pain became, until it felt like it was spreading through every inch of her.

Around her, the hum of conversation grew louder, more insistent.

"Who is she?"

"I heard she’s the Montgomery Family’s nanny."

"She’s so young..."

The words, casual and dismissive, were like daggers, each one twisting deeper into her heart. After a long moment, she managed to push past the sharp pain and stagger to her feet. She walked unsteadily toward the exit, her steps faltering. Once outside, she hailed a taxi to the hospital.

When she arrived at the hospital, she found Sebastian and the others already there. His mother, a group of bodyguards, and the head physician were all in tow, following Sebastian, who was still holding Gabriella, into a lavish ward. The scene was overwhelming—a stark contrast to the shattered state she was in.

A bitter smile curled on Abigail’s lips as she turned and walked to the nurse's station.

The nurse gasped upon seeing her and quickly escorted her to the medical room, where a female doctor was called in to treat her wounds. The doctor’s hands were steady and efficient, cleaning and dressing the numerous cuts. The wounds themselves weren’t deep, but there were many, scattered across her arms and legs like a cruel reminder of the evening’s events.

As the doctor worked, she grew a little more talkative, perhaps to ease the tension of the quiet room. "The girl next door is so lucky," she mused, almost absentmindedly. "She looks like a rich lady, and her boyfriend loves her so much. She’s so upset over just a little injury..."

Abigail offered a faint hum in response, the hollow sound escaping her lips. But inside, it felt as though something vital had been ripped out of her, leaving only an unbearable emptiness.

That’s her husband, and yet, he’s next door, anxious over another woman.

The doctor finished bandaging her wounds and was about to offer aftercare instructions when he noticed her expression. He froze, then nervously asked, "Did I hurt you? I’m sorry."

Abigail blinked, confused, and quickly shook her head. "No, no."

But the doctor’s confusion only deepened as he observed her. "Then... why do you look like you're about to cry?"

Abigail was stunned. Was that how she looked? Despite the numbness in her heart, it had somehow made its way to her face. She could only laugh bitterly at herself.

After thanking the doctor, she walked out of the clinic, the silence of the hospital on New Year’s Eve feeling oddly suffocating. As she moved down the corridor, she could hear snippets of conversation from the next room—Sebastian’s voice, soft and concerned.

"Gabriella, does it still hurt? Don’t be stubborn. If it hurts, hold my hand."

"Our Gabriella is so unlucky. Why did she have to stand next to that jinx and get hurt? My poor child."

The words stung like fresh wounds, and Abigail turned her back on them, walking out of the hospital alone. She had never truly been a part of their family. The realization, though sharp, wasn’t new. What had once been an indifference she could tolerate, now felt like a heavy weight in her chest.

When she returned to the villa, everything seemed unchanged, yet it felt emptier, colder than before.

She went to the study, where she saw the commemorative album perched on a high shelf. It was the photo album Sebastian had created after they got together. He had said at the time, “We need to record our beauty so we can look back on it when we’re old.”

Each meaningful photo—whether a picture of them together or one of his solo shots—had been carefully pasted inside, along with his loving messages. For three years, it had been filled with memories, each page a testament to their love. But it stopped abruptly half a month ago.

Abigail flipped through the pages slowly, each word he had written, each image, now weighed heavily on her heart. The love they had shared seemed to have faded, replaced by this cold reality. Her mind wandered back to what Gabriella had said to her at the banquet.