###3

I tossed him to the nanny and drove off without glancing back.

When I got home, worn down to the bone, the first thing I saw was the piano dumped carelessly on the lawn like garbage.

Inside, Arthur stood by the door, dragging in several large suitcases.

“Mom, Aunt Eleanor will be staying in the country for a while, so she’ll be living here. She doesn’t like noise, so I cleared out your music room to make a sculpture studio for her.”

I stared at him, his face distant and cold. At that moment, I realized I no longer belonged. I was just some unsightly remnant, awkward and out of place, stubbornly lingering where I wasn’t wanted.

That piano, his eighth birthday gift to me, was bought with all his New Year’s money.

He used to sit beside me, giggling in the sunlight, hands on the keys, clinging to my arm and saying, “I love Mommy the most.” That little boy had vanished into time.

Swallowing the ache in my chest, I forced a smile through the tears that threatened to spill.

“Arthur, this is how you treat your mother now.”

A flicker of unease crossed his face, awkward, almost guilty. And just then, soft footsteps echoed from behind him.

Stephen stepped into the yard with Eleanor beside him, his expression cold and identical to Arthur’s as he looked straight at me.

“Eleanor’s afraid of the dark. Your room gets the most sunlight. Please move out and let her stay there.”

I lowered my gaze and nodded. “Alright. I’ll move all my things out.”

They had expected resistance, perhaps tears or a tantrum. But my calm reply caught him off guard, and his face stiffened with surprise.

“Victoria—”

“Victoria, you’re so sweet! Then let’s get along well during this time,” Eleanor cut in with a sugary smile.

I didn’t spare them a second glance. I turned, climbed the stairs, and headed to the bedroom.

There, I bent down and quietly dragged out one heavy bag after another. Every item I packed carried years of silence, sacrifice, and dust.

When I tossed thirty years of memories into the trash truck, Stephen followed me out, brows furrowed.

“Why are you throwing away so much?”

“Just old junk I’ll never use again.”

He eyed me warily, unsettled by the eerie calm in my voice. He reached into one bag and froze.

“These… these are the gifts I gave you.”

I smiled faintly. “Things from decades ago should’ve been thrown out a long time ago.”

Just like certain people.

Stephen’s face tightened, displeased. “You used to treasure them…”

Yes, as long as it was a gift from him, I used to light up like a child, clutching it to my chest, promising I’d treasure it forever.

Back then, Stephen would glance at me and feel an inexplicable warmth bloom in his chest.

But forever was far too long. A heart soaked in betrayal couldn’t carry its weight.

I brushed past him without pause. “There’s someone new in the house now. You’ve never liked a crowd, have you?”

He opened his mouth, perhaps to explain that Eleanor was only staying temporarily, but I had already turned away and loaded everything into the car.

He let out a sigh. “There’s a banquet tonight. You haven’t been out in a while, why not come along with Eleanor.”

He hadn’t invited me to a formal event in years. Ever since I gained weight, he had stopped taking me anywhere that mattered.

At the banquet, the two of them stepped out of the car first.

The host beamed with admiration. “President Mortimer, your wife is still as beautiful as she was in her youth.”

Stephen didn’t correct him. With a smile, he naturally took the mistress’s hand.

“Thank you.”

“And this lady is…?”

Only then did he glance my way. There was a brief flicker, and then he looked away. “She’s our assistant.”

I stood frozen in place. Even though his answer didn’t surprise me, it still felt like someone had torn my heart wide open.

Swallowing the sting in my eyes, I lifted my head and walked into the banquet with what remained of my dignity.

Eleanor clung to Stephen’s arm, swirling her wine glass as they mingled effortlessly among the glittering crowd, like a true couple of high society.

And I stood at a distance, watching it all unfold as if I were just a passing shadow. The laughter, the glamour, none of it belonged to me.

Then, suddenly, a searing pain shot through my injured right calf.

###4

In an instant, cold sweat drenched my back.

The lingering injury from the accident flared again, my previously fractured leg sending waves of pain with every heartbeat. I had no choice but to borrow a room to rest.

But all the organizers gave me was a cold, pitch-dark utility closet.

The moment I stepped inside, I heard a sharp “click” from the outside. The lock.

“Stephen has always loved me. You pitiful woman who threw herself at him, so what if you were married for decades? He never loved you!”

Outside, Eleanor’s voice rang with cruel delight.

“You saw it yourself, didn’t you? I sat in the front passenger seat next to Stephen tonight. This couture gown I’m wearing? A gift from your daughter. This limited-edition Cartier watch? Your son bought it for me. They all adore me, not you!”

My leg throbbed with unbearable pain. Drenched in sweat, I rattled the door, my voice shaking.

“You can have him and them, all of them! Just let me go to the hospital. I’m begging you!”

“Stop dreaming. I won’t let you out to steal the spotlight. Tonight, stay here and learn your place.”

Then, she hung a “Do Not Disturb – Under Maintenance” sign on the handle. The click of her heels echoed down the hall, growing fainter with every step.

I collapsed onto the cold floor, drained and defeated. Reaching for my phone, I realized with horror it was dead.

“Help me!”

I slammed my fists against the locked door, shouting until my voice broke, but the room was too remote, the night too quiet. No one came.

In the end, the pain consumed me, and everything faded to black.

Two hours later, when the banquet had ended, Stephen still hadn’t seen me. He looked around with a frown of irritation.

“Didn’t I tell her to behave and stay put? Where did she run off to?”

Eleanor clung to his arm, biting her lip with feigned guilt. “Did she leave because you called me your wife? If I’d known she’d be hurt, I would’ve explained it to her.”

But Stephen only replied with a scoff.

“Everyone tonight was high society. Do you really think her disheveled look wouldn’t have embarrassed me? Eleanor, I’m grateful you were by my side. You helped me save face.”

“Victoria is always so dramatic. Let her sulk. Let’s go home.”

Eleanor glanced smugly toward the utility room, the corner of her lips lifting in silent triumph.

And I was locked away in that dark room, was left forgotten. Not a single soul in that family remembered me.

The next morning, when Henry had to be taken to school, my son finally remembered I existed.

“Why isn’t she here yet? Do you even know what time it is?!”

But when my phone went unanswered, he didn’t bother calling again.

Instead, he waved it off and told the nanny to take Henry.

I was finally let out by a hotel staff member.

After charging my phone, there were no messages from Stephen asking where I was or expressing concern. What I did see was a blaring headline lighting up the screen.

[The long-absent Mrs. Mortimer, wife of the Mortimer Group president, turns out to be a renowned sculptor. A match made in heaven, a truly gifted man and elegant woman.]

Weak and numb, I stared at the screen and gave a bitter smile.

Then my phone rang.

For a fleeting second, I thought maybe it was Stephen.

But no. The name flashing on the screen was Edmund. I picked up, and his voice came through instantly, tight with worry.

“Victoria, I called you all night! What the hell happened? Are you alright now?”

###5

It turned out Edmund had seen the trending headlines last night. Fearing I might do something reckless, he had searched for me the entire night.

I never imagined the only warmth left in my world would come from someone outside the family.

My eyes reddened, and I choked back tears. “I… I’m okay…”

“No, you’re not,” he said, his voice dropping into a stormy calm. “You’re not okay at all. I’m cutting my trip short. I’ll come get you.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry…”

“You never have to say that to me, Victoria. My feelings have never changed.”

Years ago, Edmund had once pursued me. But back then, I had been hopelessly in love with Stephen, blind to everyone else.

I never thought that, after thirty years, he would still hold a place for me in his heart.

When I returned home from the hospital, I found Eleanor draped across Stephen’s black bed, wearing a loose men’s shirt and holding a glass of champagne. Her legs were shamelessly splayed.

Stephen had always been obsessed with cleanliness. He used to hate me, leaving even a trace of scent in his room.

Twenty years ago, when his business had yet to flourish, he offended an important client because of his temper.

To salvage the situation, I drank until I nearly suffered a gastric hemorrhage.

But when I stumbled back home that night, he didn’t offer a word of concern. He only wrinkled his nose in disdain and stopped me at the door.

“You stink. Wash it off yourself.”

I had been left outside in the snow all night. By the time I dragged myself back to my room at dawn, my body was burning with fever, and it lasted an entire week.

And now, Eleanor, reeking of alcohol, lay sprawled comfortably in his bed.

So, all those rigid rules were only meant for me.

She rose slowly, deliberately tugging open the shirt that still carried Stephen’s scent, exposing the crimson hickeys blooming across her skin.

“Stephen was wild last night. He went at it for hours. Said you were as stiff as a board, boring as hell. You never knew how to please him.”

I felt nauseated like bile rising up my throat, but I forced it back down and looked her straight in the eye, cold and unfazed.

“So what? Eleanor, you’re still just a mistress.”

The word struck her like a slap. Her eyes darkened with venom. But then, she rolled them with exaggerated flair, grabbed the glass beside her, and smashed it to the floor.

A sharp cry followed as she collapsed to the ground.

“Eleanor!”

Stephen burst through the door, eyes wide with panic. He rushed to her side, cradling her like porcelain.

Tears clung to her lashes as she whimpered, “I just wanted to explain last night to Victoria, but she told me to die and pushed me into the glass…”

Stephen held her bleeding hand, just a shallow cut, yet his expression twisted with heartbreak, his eyes bloodshot with fury as they turned to me.

“Apologize to Eleanor!”

A tidal wave of grievance surged through me, and I cried out in despair, “I didn’t do anything! She—”

“I’d better leave before Victoria finds another way to hurt me!”

Eleanor’s wailing cut me off as she pretended to pull away from Stephen’s embrace.

But instead of pushing her away, he held her even tighter, as if she were the most fragile treasure in the world. His eyes burned into me with contempt.

“You’re so petty and small-minded. Go reflect on yourself.”

And with that, he left, taking Eleanor to see a doctor as if I were the criminal.

Later, the bodyguards dragged me into the basement like a discarded object. I had no choice but to call my son for help.

Arthur’s voice on the line was cold and sharp.

“I already heard from Dad. You went too far. It was just a little misunderstanding, and you actually hurt Aunt Eleanor?”

“Mom, can’t you learn to be more like her? Be graceful for once. Stop embarrassing the family.”

My heart froze.

I stared at the screen, tears falling without end. My fingers trembled as I hung up in silence.

Stephen was determined to punish me. He didn’t even allow a drop of water.

After a day and night of silent suffering, my foot throbbed with unbearable pain. At last, the old housekeeper, unable to stand it anymore, secretly let me out.

Just as I arrived at the hospital, I saw Eleanor’s latest post on Instagram.

The first photo showed Stephen’s back as he ran hospital errands for her. The second was a pregnancy report.

[With a man who truly loves you, the sense of security is overwhelming.]

Beneath the post, the Mortimer family lit up the comments.

My son: [Congrats to Dad for winning back the heart of his goddess.]

My daughter, writing from overseas: [Didn’t you used to joke about borrowing some sperm to have a baby? Looks like your hard work with my father paid off. Congrats!]

My daughter-in-law: [We absolutely need to throw a party for you two.]

Then came a reply from Stephen himself.

[Don’t jump to conclusions. I’m just helping Eleanor. If you keep stirring things up, are you trying to push your mother and me to divorce?]

At once, my son and daughter-in-law replied together. [Got it. We won’t say more.]

But then my daughter wrote. [Everyone knows you’ve never let go of Aunt Eleanor. Why not follow your heart? We support you.]

I never thought the child I loved most would say something like that.

She respected her powerful father, but her own mother, less graceful and less impressive, could never compare to Eleanor. In their eyes, I didn’t deserve to be his wife, nor their mother.

So, all those years I gave and all the sacrifices I made were worthless.

Now that the marriage had shattered and the family I once protected had turned cold, I had nothing left to lose.

I typed slowly on my phone.

[Congrats on having a child in your old age. Don’t worry, I won’t interfere with your happy family. Stephen and I are getting divorced.]

The moment I hit send, my phone started ringing.