Suzy's POV

As soon as I said that, the entire room fell silent for two seconds.

I could see the fleeting joy on their faces as if they couldn't wait to kick me out of the house the very next second.

Franco's look was resigned, as if he'd expected this moment all along, his eyes nearly cold, though I could still see the faintest trace of something I couldn't quite identify.

"Alright, fine. You said it yourself. Don't regret it, Suzy," he warned, his voice colder than it should have been.

I didn't flinch.

"Oh, I won't regret it," I replied, my voice calm, almost detached.

I didn't expect him to be surprised by how quickly I agreed, but Franco was. His face twitched, his confidence faltering, like a weight had suddenly fallen on him. He couldn't quite understand it, but I could.

After all, I had already made my peace with this.

Of course, he already had a plan. He took a divorce agreement from the drawer, gave it to me, and instructed me to sign it, as if it were a business deal. With their hopeful expressions fixed on me, I leaned down and signed, feeling the full force of their gaze.

Franco followed suit without hesitation, his signature almost a reflex.

Then, he spoke, and the words felt like cold metal.

"This is just a fake divorce. Over the next month, I'll use all my resources to fix Maxwell Group. I'm divorcing you to spare you the downfall. You have to understand. I have good intentions. After a month, we'll remarry."

'Good intentions?' I repeated inwardly.

I wanted to tell him that there was no such thing as a fake divorce, only a real one.

But what good would that do?

The truth wouldn't change anything. I could see it in Franco's eyes.

This wasn't about saving me. It was about saving him.

As I turned to head back to my room, I heard Tommy's excited voice from the door.

"Great! Now, Grandpa and Aunt Ingrid can finally get married! Aunt Ingrid will be our grandma from now on!"

His words immediately quieted, and I knew why.

Andrew probably held Tommy's mouth shut to prevent him from speaking further.

I smiled, but tears suddenly slipped down my cheeks without warning.

For thirty years, I had sacrificed my dreams, set aside any career ambitions, and poured everything into being Franco's wife.

I had raised our kids, and when they were too busy to care for their children, I had raised my grandchildren, too. I never took a day off. I thought my efforts, my heart, my endless giving would somehow earn their love, but now it hit me—how foolish I had been.

In their eyes, I was just the lazy woman who never did anything but hang around the kitchen.

Why should I keep trying?

Why should I keep investing myself in a family that preferred Ingrid?

If they wanted her, then fine. They could have her.

In a week, I'd be gone.

Forever.

...

The next morning, I quit all my jobs, except for the cleaning position at the music hall.

My manager told me a big-time client had reserved the entire venue for a private concert to celebrate his wife. He needed everyone working, and since I was the one he trusted, he asked me to stay for the day with the promise of three times my regular pay. I couldn't refuse, so I agreed.

What I didn't expect, though, was that the man who had rented out the entire music hall was none other than Franco.

It turned out Ingrid had an interest in music and wanted to hold her own concert.

Franco spared no expense to make it happen. He even invited hundreds of prominent figures to witness her 'big moment.'

Years ago, I stumbled upon an online post about one of my handmade bags.

To my surprise, it went viral, and people begged me to open an online store. I felt such pride knowing others were loving something I'd poured my heart into.

So that night, I talked to Franco about it, eager to finally pursue something I cared about.

But instead of excitement, his face turned red with anger.

"Suzy, you're thirty years old and have a family! Can you stop thinking about yourself? If you spend all your time on this, who will take care of the kids and me?"

Then, Franco even said, "Don't be so selfish. You're my wife and the kids' mother. You need to take responsibility for this family."

And so, my dreams of doing something for myself were once again crushed.

Now, months later, as I watched them hand in hand at the music hall, the crowd was buzzing with excitement.

"Mr. Maxwell never brings a partner to events. This must be Mrs. Maxwell, right? She's so beautiful."

"And she's also a famous musician, truly a strong woman!"

"I heard Mr. Maxwell and his wife never had a wedding. He recently proposed to her again, and they're flying to Grandshire soon for their wedding."

I could hear their voices all around me, and every word hit me like a slap in the face.

I had repeatedly asked Franco to take me to events like this, to meet his friends, and to show the world we were a couple. But he always refused.

"It's our life. What's the point of showing off our love to others? Don't you know that the more you flaunt it, the quicker it fades? Stop being so vain, Suzy."

So, all this time, he didn't dislike bringing a partner to events. He just didn't want to bring me. The difference between love and indifference was huge, and I finally saw it so clearly.

Then Ingrid saw me and called out, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Suzy, what are you doing here?"

Franco turned to look at me. His face, once warm and gentle, now froze into something cold and distant.

"Suzy, are you stalking me?" Franco sneered. "You really can't change, can you? I told you before that nothing is going on between Ingrid and me. She's my sister. Why can't you let us go after the divorce?"

I wanted to say something, but before I could even open my mouth, Ingrid stepped in front of me, grabbing my hand and looking up at me with her best-injured expression.

"Suzy, you don't lack food or clothing at home," Ingrid castigated. "Why are you working as a cleaner? Are you trying to make people think you're being mistreated, living a hard life, while letting us live comfortably?"

Her voice was full of grievance, and the guests around us started to whisper. I suddenly became the focus of everyone's attention, and for the first time in my life, I felt embarrassed and exposed.

Ingrid didn't stop there.

Twisting the narrative, she continued, "Suzy, don't treat yourself like this. Come back home with me. If you're upset, take it out on me. Don't ruin your health, okay?"

Her tone was mockingly sweet, but her grip on my arm was firm, digging in and causing me to wince.

I shook her off, not with much force, but enough to send her stumbling backward.

As a result, she collided with a nearby table corner, and blood flowed down her forehead.

"Ingrid!"

Franco rushed over to her, shoving me aside in the process. I wasn't prepared, so I stumbled and fell five steps, twisting my foot at an awkward angle.

But Franco didn't even look at me.

He picked Ingrid up and carried her out like I wasn't even there.

I watched them leave, my lips curling bitterly.

It didn't matter. I was leaving soon, and whether he cared or not, it was all irrelevant.

In six days, I would be gone for good.

Suzy's POV

When I went to the hospital alone to get a cast, I was used to being by myself.

But when the doctor noticed there was no one with me, he asked, his voice almost too curious, "Ma'am, did you come by yourself? Why didn't you bring any family members?"

I was just about to answer him when I overheard two nurses gossiping as they passed by the door.

"Mr. Maxwell really dotes on his wife. He called all the top doctors in the hospital and booked the entire floor to make sure no one disturbed her while she rested."

The other one said, "You should have seen how anxious he was when he brought her to the hospital. It was as if anything happened to her, he'd go with her."

The nurse with her concurred and even added to it. "And their son, daughter, and grandchildren? Even their daughter-in-law and son-in-law stayed right by Mrs. Maxwell's side, not leaving her for a second, just in case anything happened."

Hearing their words, I looked at my phone and felt my heart sink as I saw that there were no messages or calls.

Then, I turned back to the doctor and forced a smile, even though it felt like my heart had broken a little.

"I don't have any family," I said, my voice soft.

The doctor immediately softened, looking at me with sympathy.

But before he could say anything else, the door slammed open and Franco stormed in. His face was tight with worry, but when he saw me, his expression changed, turning into something colder. He grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me toward him.

"Ingrid's lost too much blood and needs a transfusion. You both have rare blood types, so you're going to donate to her."

I couldn't believe it.

My head spun as he pulled me toward the operating room.

The doctor looked at me, taking in my pale, worn-out face, and then frowned.

"Ma'am, your health is in poor condition. I'm afraid you can't donate blood."

Franco scoffed, his voice cutting through the room. "Ingrid got hurt because of her. She has to take responsibility."

The doctor looked stunned, his eyes wide. "But if we push her to do the transfusion, she could die from this, Mr. Maxwell!"

Franco didn't even flinch. "Then let her die. I don't fucking care!"

Finally, I was pulled into the operating room, my mind dazed as I watched helplessly while the doctor transfused 1000cc of blood from me into Ingrid's body.

The whole time, I felt like a bystander in my own life, just going through the motions, too numb to stop anything.

For the next three days, Franco didn't check on me once.

He stayed glued to Ingrid's side while Andrew, Karla, and the grandchildren visited her in the hospital. They didn't visit me at all because they simply couldn't be bothered.

...

On the fourth day, I was finally discharged, still feeling lightheaded and exhausted.

As I was paying the bill alone, I ran into Franco and Ingrid in the lobby.

Of course, Franco was helping Ingrid walk, cradling her like she was made of glass.

Meanwhile, Andrew, Karla, Dylan, and Marian trailed behind, all doting on Ingrid like she was the queen of the world.

When they saw me, Franco stopped and walked over.

His face was grim, his words colder than I expected.

"We're divorced now. It's not good for you to stay in the house anymore. Pack your things and move out today."

I didn't even hesitate as I said, "Okay."

Franco looked taken aback by how quickly I agreed, as if he had expected more resistance. Maybe he thought I'd make a scene, try to change his mind.

But I was too tired for that and too tired to fight for someone who'd never fought for me.

Right there, I saw the confusion flicker in his eyes, a slight twinge of guilt maybe, but he quickly covered it up.

He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Ingrid winced, clutching her head.

"Franco, my head hurts so much," she said, her voice trembling.

Without even sparing me a second glance, Franco rushed to her, the rest of the room frozen in concern.

I didn't wait for him.

I spun around and left the hospital immediately, feeling both burdened and oddly free.

When I got home, I started packing my belongings.

I had lived in that house for thirty years, but as I looked around, I realized I didn't have much—just a few clothes and a few memories.

The rest of the house was filled with things for Franco and the kids. They had their needs and wants, and I had given them everything.

As I began sorting through the things I once thought were so important—memories of our kids growing up and small gifts Franco had given me—I discovered a metal box under the bed.

I opened it, and inside, there was a fake rose worth $15 and a pull-tab from a soda can.

I picked up the items, looked at them for a long moment, then went directly to the trash and threw them all away.

I threw away the album, the one I had carefully compiled with all our memories.

When Franco came home, he saw what I was doing.

He frowned, like he couldn't understand what was happening.

"I just asked you to move out. There's no need to throw everything away. After all, we're going to remarry."

I didn't even look up as I replied, "These are old things. They're useless. I threw them away to make room."

Franco looked like he wanted to say something, but before he could, his phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out and glanced at it.

Ingrid's message.

Suddenly, he seemed to remember why he'd come back.

He turned to me, his voice a little softer, though still guarded. "Ingrid's been diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. She has only a month to live. Before she dies, she wants to see the snow mountains in Grandshire. The kids and I are planning to take her there."

Franco paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable, and then added, "We're divorced now, and if I bring you along, people might gossip. Just stay here. After I fix Maxwell Group, I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

I shook my head, my voice low, but firm. "No need."

Franco furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not hearing me correctly. "What did you say?"

I didn't repeat myself. I just smiled, the kind of smile that didn't reach my eyes.

"Nothing," I said softly.

I wanted to tell him that we no longer have a future together and that he didn't need to explain himself.

That there was nothing left to save between us.

But I couldn't bring myself to say it aloud. It didn't matter anymore.

I had already made my peace.

Suzy's POV

Franco didn't waste any time giving me orders, as if I were his assistant.

"Pack up the luggage for me and the kids by tomorrow. We're leaving at 9 AM sharp," he said, with barely a glance in my direction. "And don't forget Ingrid's luggage. She's not feeling well enough to handle the heavy stuff, so go to her place and pack for her as well. Don't forget her ID, passport, and visa."

Before I could even respond, he turned and walked off, leaving me no room to argue.

...

The next day, I packed all their luggage into the car by myself.

Afterward, I followed them to the airport to see them off. They were all laughing and chatting, fussing over Ingrid and checking on her like she was some fragile doll.

Meanwhile, not a single one of them noticed that I was throwing up from motion sickness, fifteen times to be exact.

But who was counting, right?

Just before they boarded the plane, my daughter, Karla, gave me a fake, overly sweet goodbye.

"Mom, take care of yourself at home. I'll bring you a gift when I come back," she said, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness.

I didn't say a word. I just stood there and watched them, holding back everything I wanted to say.

Then, suddenly, Ingrid screamed, "Oh no! My necklace is missing! That was the keepsake my mom left behind me!"

Franco's parents had adopted Ingrid after her biological mother died, saving her from a cliff. She had kept the necklace as a memory of her mother, and it was worth a lot of money.

Knowing that, Franco immediately panicked and organized everyone to search for it.

Clutching her bag, Ingrid began crying, her eyes focusing on me.

"Suzy, you were the only one who touched my suitcase. Tell me honestly, when you packed my things yesterday, did you steal my necklace?"

I couldn't even blink before Franco slapped me across the face. The sting of his blow, afterward, was sharp and cruel.

"Suzy, how low can you go, huh?" he berated, "You really can't stand Ingrid, can you? Now, you have to steal her necklace. Give it back now!"

Right then, Andrew and Karla looked at me, their faces twisted with shame and judgment.

"Mom, yeah, we're broke, but not this desperate. Give Aunt Ingrid her necklace back already!" Karla spoke out, exasperated.

I furrowed my brows as I replied, "Do you even know me, Karla? When have I ever stolen anything? I saw her taking out the necklace earlier, and Marian saw it too."

Everyone's eyes shifted to Marian.

But instead of defending me, she just shook her head and said, "Come on, Mom, don't drag me into this. I didn't see any necklace."

Just then, Dylan came at me, slamming a punch into my stomach. "You old hag, give Aunt Ingrid her jewelry back!"

My granddaughter joined in, biting my hand. "You thief, Grandma! Hand it over to Auntie!"

Besides Franco, Ingrid was crying so dramatically, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

She sobbed, "That necklace is the most important thing to me. I want to take it with me when I'm buried."

Franco's face darkened, and he pointed at me like he meant business.

"Suzy, you've got three seconds to hand it over. Or I swear, I'll rip it off you myself."

I frowned, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"I didn't steal it."

But Franco didn't believe me.

Without hesitation, he ordered the staff to strip me naked.

Before I knew it, my clothes were being torn off, exposing my worn-out undergarments to the sunlight. I felt a rush of humiliation unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

Still, I held my head high, wrapping my arms tightly around myself, trying to shield what little dignity I had left.

Then, out of nowhere, a staff member from the airport approached me.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, is this the necklace you're looking for?"

She held up Ingrid's necklace, the one that was supposedly missing.

Ingrid rushed over, grabbing it from her hands.

Almost breathless, she demanded, "Where did you find this?"

The staff member explained, "You dropped it while rummaging through your bag. This necklace looks quite valuable, so please be more careful next time."

Ingrid's face turned red with embarrassment.

Franco, however, remained filled with anger and couldn't let this go.

He snapped, backing Ingrid up. "If you didn't steal it, Suzy, why'd you stay quiet? What's the use of a mouth if you're not speaking up?"

Andrew and Karla jumped in, mocking me.

"Mom, if you're trying to make Aunt Ingrid look bad, just say it. Housewives aren't impressive, but you sure know how to stir up jealousy!"

"Yeah! You're always starting drama and craving attention!"

I could feel the sting of their words like a slap across my face.

Even my grandchildren, Tommy and Thalia, spat at me.

"Bad Grandma!"

"Grandma, lying is wrong!"

It felt like a nightmare, and I couldn't wake up.

Then, finally, the boarding call came.

Without a second glance, they rushed onto the plane, leaving me behind.

One of the airport staff, noticing my disheveled state, gently draped a coat over my shoulders. I wrapped it tightly around myself, bought a fresh outfit from a nearby shop, and grabbed my already packed suitcase.

It was time to leave.

On the flight to Silverstone, I sat by the window, watching the ground fall away beneath me. I exhaled slowly, deeply.

Goodbye, nightmare.