Mom didn’t know exactly what was going on with me, but home had always been my safe haven.

"Really? Emily, when are you coming home? I’ll have your dad come pick you up."

The moment she mentioned Dad, I couldn’t help but laugh. "Dad? He’s always in meetings. No way he’d have time to come get me."

Mom huffed and shot back, "I said he’ll go—so even if he doesn’t have time, he’ll make time!"

My parents’ marriage had always been something I deeply admired. Maybe because I grew up in such a loving family, when I married Michael, I worked hard to model myself after Mom, doing everything I could to hold our home together.

However, in the end, I forgot something important.

Michael was Michael. And my dad was my dad.

That night, I fell asleep in bed.

The next morning, Michael woke me up. He had come home just to change clothes. He said he was going to spend the day with me, but in reality, he only stayed long enough to eat breakfast.

He looked like he was in a rush.

After a couple of quick bites of a bun, he said, "Lately, Lily’s been in a bad place emotionally. I might need to spend a few more days with her."

He glanced at me nervously, clearly trying to find the right words to soften the blow.

However, before he could say anything more, I nodded and said, "It’s fine. I understand. Go ahead and be with her. I’ll be home the next few days and won’t go out."

Michael was stunned. Maybe he didn’t expect me to agree so easily. He didn’t even get the chance to say all the things he had rehearsed to justify himself. In the end, all he could do was awkwardly nod and hug me tightly.

"Emily, you’re amazing. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon."

Then, he turned and left without even looking back.

I quietly counted.

How many times had he left me like this? And how many of those times were because of Lily?

In the past, I would’ve been heartbroken. I'd have fought with him, cried, and refused to let go.

But now… once I stopped caring, the pain vanished.

Over the next few days, Michael would occasionally show up.

Meanwhile, my wound gradually healed, and my strength began to return.

Then, one morning, I rolled out my suitcase. Everything that belonged to me—every piece of clothing, every personal item—was already packed neatly inside.

It was almost laughable. After all these years of marriage, I couldn’t even fill a single suitcase with things that were truly mine.

That’s when it hit me.

All this time, I’d poured every ounce of myself into caring for Michael, trying to warm the stone he called a heart, and in doing so, I’d forgotten myself completely.

But now? Now it seemed like a good thing. It meant that wiping away all traces of myself from this house was going to be easy.

Before leaving, I placed the divorce agreement on the coffee table in the living room.

On top of the paperwork, I left the one and only gift Michael had ever given me—our wedding ring.

Then, I walked out and took a cab straight to the airport.

What I didn’t expect was for Michael to call me on the way. After all, over the past few days, he’d only contacted me when he needed clean clothes.

I hesitated for a moment but answered, not wanting to tip him off.

His voice came through the phone, laced with urgency. "Emily, the building manager just called. They said you left. Where are you going?"

I froze.

So he’d found out after all.

I lied, "Oh… nowhere really. Just heading to the hospital for a check-up."

His tone instantly relaxed. "You’re right. It’s about time for a prenatal check-up. Wait for me. I’ll come with you."

The moment I hung up, I told the driver to speed up.

Thankfully, by the time the plane took off, Michael still hadn’t contacted me again.

Once I was in the air, I blocked his number.

Meanwhile, back in the city, Michael arrived at the hospital. He made call after call, but every one of them failed to connect. Unable to reach me, he turned to the nurse’s station and asked a doctor.

"Her name’s Emily, right?" The nurse checked the system and looked confused. "She doesn’t have any prenatal check-up scheduled for today. And according to our records—

"A week ago, Mrs. Greene underwent a procedure to terminate the pregnancy."