The photograph on screen showed Sophie herself.

And a man. Sophie was kneeling in front of him, her eyes in daze—anyone could see what was happening.

The man's face wasn't visible, but Isabella still recognized him as Ethan.

The venue erupted.

"What the hell! She's auctioning off this kind of photo? Has she lost her mind?"

"If I'm not mistaken, that's the photographer Sophie Shaw herself in the picture. Is she trying to create a scandal for attention?"

"I mean, there are artistic nude works out there, but this... it's just vulgar!"

Amid the chaos of voices, Sophie's face went ashen as she shook her head frantically.

"No... this isn't the photo I submitted. I swear it's not this one..."

But no one was listening.

The auctioneer, maintaining professional composure, began the bidding.

"This photograph has a starting bid of one hundred thousand. Do I hear any higher offers?"

The room fell dead silent.

Only a few sleazy men's crude laughter broke the quiet.

"A hundred grand for this? It's just a sex photo—you can find thousands online for free!"

"Exactly. A hundred thousand for the photo is ridiculous, but this girl clearly knows how to please a man. If she'd recreate what's in the photo live, then maybe a hundred grand would be worth it."

"Hahaha!"

The humiliating comments kept coming. Sophie's last trace of color drained from her face as she swayed on her feet.

Until—

"I bid two hundred thousand!"

Ethan's cold voice cut through the room, instantly silencing everyone.

People stared at Ethan in disbelief, whispering among themselves.

"Does Mr. Cross know this Sophie Shaw?"

"Oh, I remember now—Sophie Shaw is one of Mr. Cross's students..."

The auctioneer was also stunned but politely reminded him.

"Mr. Cross, according to our auction rules, each person can only bid on one item. If you wish to change your bid, you'll need to forfeit your previous purchase and offer a higher amount."

Ethan instinctively looked at Isabella, who kept her head down in silence.

Sophie below was already sobbing audibly.

"Professor, you don't need to help me. I uploaded the wrong photo by mistake. Please don't worry about me..."

Her voice grew smaller and smaller until she was crying uncontrollably. Ethan felt his heart clench and blurted out, "Fine. I bid two million for this photograph."

The entire room gasped. The auctioneer confirmed, "So Mr. Cross, you're forfeiting Miss Winters's photograph?"

Ethan again looked instinctively at Isabella, but this time she had already stood and left.

"Bella!"

Only then did Ethan panic, rushing to follow her. But at that moment, someone below shouted, "Sophie Shaw has fainted!"

Ethan's steps froze.

The scene descended into chaos. As Isabella left the auction house, she could only hear the auctioneer's voice:

"Congratulations to Mr. Cross for winning Miss Sophie Shaw's 'Dreams' at two million dollars!"

Isabella closed her eyes as the tears she'd been holding back finally fell.

In the end, he had chosen her after all.

...

For the next several days, Isabella didn't speak to Ethan.

No matter how much jewelry and designer bags he bought, no matter what novelties he brought home, she wouldn't even look at him.

Until Isabella's birthday.

Ethan practically got on his knees begging before she finally agreed to go out with him.

After driving for what felt like hours, the car stopped. Ethan covered her eyes as they walked, and after a long journey, he finally spoke.

"Okay, Bella, you can open your eyes now."

Isabella looked up to find they were at a marina.

Before them sat an enormous yacht, brilliantly lit, with words painted on its hull— The Winters

Isabella's eyes flashed with surprise as she looked at Ethan. "This is..."

Ethan took her hand.

"This is a yacht I had custom-made for you, named after you."

He said softly, "Bella, I'm truly sorry about the auction. Sophie is my student and the girl you've been sponsoring. I really was just trying to help her out of an embarrassing situation—nothing more.

"I asked her about the photo too. She said someone jealous of her photoshopped it. Please believe me. Besides..."

He paused, then said gently, "Didn't you want to sell the 'Memory' photograph for charity anyway? An extra donation is a good thing, right?"

Isabella's eyelashes trembled slightly.

‘Since this represents my promise to you, I want to keep it forever.’ His words from that day seemed to echo in her ears, but now his story had completely changed.

Isabella lowered her head, hiding the irony in her eyes. "We don't need to explain so much to each other."

Because I... stopped believing you long ago. And soon I'll forget all these sordid details anyway.

But Ethan misinterpreted her words as forgiveness. Joy flashed in his eyes as he eagerly took her hand.

"Come on, let's go aboard!"

Once on the yacht, Isabella saw that nearly everyone she knew was there.

Ethan had ordered a massive three-meter-tall cake, and everyone was celebrating her.

The yacht set sail as fireworks lit up the sky—everything was so beautiful it felt like a dream.

Even Isabella felt momentarily dazed.

As if they were back in their happiest days, sweet and inseparable.

Until Ethan's phone buzzed and he looked down at it.

Isabella glanced over and realized he wasn't reading a message—he was checking social media.

Understanding dawned. She opened her own social media to find Sophie had just posted a photo.

The image showed Sophie sitting alone at a table in darkness with a cake and a single lonely candle. The caption read: "My 23rd birthday, spending it alone again."

From that moment on, Ethan seemed distracted.

When the fireworks ended, he finally couldn't hold back anymore. He grasped Isabella's hand apologetically.

"Bella, there's an emergency at the company. I have to go back. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?"

Isabella looked up at him with an unreadable expression. "What kind of work is so urgent that you have to rush back from a yacht?"

Ethan stiffened slightly. "It's about some AI intellectual property issues. Only I can sign off on them. I promise I'll make it up to you—please don't be angry."

He kissed her forehead and hurried away.

Isabella walked to the deck and watched Ethan board a speedboat with staff members, roaring off into the darkness.

White foam split across the sea like her fractured heart.

An hour later, Isabella's phone suddenly rang.

It was Sophie.

Isabella hesitated for a moment, then understood immediately.

She debated for a second before answering, but the caller didn't speak. Instead, muffled voices came through—

"Professor! You actually came to celebrate my birthday! But... but today is Isabella's birthday too. Don't you need to be with her?"

"It's fine. She has lots of friends and family there, but you only have me, don't you?"

"Professor..."

The girl's moved sobs were suddenly muffled, then transformed into erotic moans...

Isabella finally couldn't take it anymore and hung up.

She thought she'd be devastated, but found she couldn't even cry.

Perhaps when disappointment reaches its peak, tears simply won't come.

She took a deep breath and dialed a number.

"Hello." As soon as the call connected, she spoke immediately. "Did you get all the photos?"

...

Ethan didn't come home that night.

The yacht was scheduled for a three-day, three-night cruise, but early the next morning, Isabella also took a speedboat back to shore.

When she got home, she found what she'd been waiting for in her mailbox.

It was an envelope full of photographs of Ethan and Sophie.

Kissing in a car, embracing in his office, even in the university library...

All taken by the private investigator Isabella had hired.

Even though she'd prepared herself mentally, Isabella's hands still trembled as she looked at the photos.

The frequency...

Almost every time Ethan said he had work and left, he was with Sophie...

Isabella slammed the envelope shut and went upstairs to retrieve a photo album from her safe.

This was her album with Ethan.

Being a photographer herself, Isabella had always loved documenting life's moments in pictures.

When she'd learned about her brain tumor, she'd been terrified of losing her memories of Ethan someday, so she'd collected all their photos together.

She'd hoped that even if she lost her memory, she could learn about their sweet past through these photographs.

But now...

Isabella's lips curved in a bitter smile as she unhesitatingly lit the photos with her lighter—

The first: Ethan carrying her on his back along the beach.

Because she'd said her father died young and no one had ever carried her, he'd carried her all night long.

The second: When she'd first been diagnosed and wanted to break up with Ethan.

But he'd deployed over ten thousand drones to spell out her name in the sky when he proposed.

The third: During her five-year coma, Ethan stood by her bed, carefully cleaning every inch of her skin.

For seven whole years, her life had been filled entirely with Ethan.

But now all those memories and beautiful moments were being consumed by flames, turning to ash...

After burning those photos, Isabella placed all the sordid pictures of Ethan and Sophie into the album instead.

She didn't want to remember the love that had turned rotten.

But this betrayal—she could never forget.

...

By the time she finished burning the photos, it was deep into the night.

Isabella fell into a restless sleep. After what felt like hours, her wrist was suddenly grabbed frantically.

She woke with a start to see Ethan's pale face in the darkness.

"Bella." His voice trembled uncontrollably. "You... you burned all our photos?"

Isabella froze, then noticed Ethan was holding a half-burned photograph.

Because there had been so many photos, by the time she reached the end, some hadn't burned completely before she tossed them in the trash.

She hadn't expected Ethan to find them.

However, the album containing Ethan and Sophie's photos was already locked away in her private safe where Ethan couldn't possibly see it.

"Yes."

She didn't deny it. Only then did Ethan truly panic, gripping her even tighter.

"Bella, didn't you say these photos were your most precious memories? Why did you burn them? Did I do something wrong?"

The usually composed and dignified man now looked like a child who'd made a mistake, almost ready to cry.

"If I did something wrong, tell me! I'll change everything!"

Isabella finally looked at him.

If she told him, would he leave Sophie?

If she told him, could his betrayals simply be wiped clean?

No.

So it was better not to say anything.

Better to forget everything completely.

So she said calmly, "Don't overthink it. I fell asleep looking at the album, and an aromatherapy candle caught it on fire. By the time I put it out, most of it was burned. The negatives are still intact anyway, so it's not a big deal."

The lie was almost laughably poor. There was no way someone with Ethan's intelligence would believe it.

"Bella, you..." He was about to speak when his phone suddenly buzzed.

He glanced down at the message, his expression changing, and immediately stood up.

"Bella, I need to take a call."

He hurried out to the balcony. Faintly, Isabella could hear fragments of conversation drifting in—

"What do you mean you haven't had it this month..."

"Did you actually test? Are you sure?"

Ethan's tone on the balcony was somewhat agitated, but Isabella had no interest in listening to what he was saying. She simply closed her eyes and smiled bitterly.

You see.

Even the most pathetic lies can succeed when the other person doesn't care.

...

Over the next few days, Ethan was restless and didn't even bother pursuing the matter of the photos.

Isabella couldn't be bothered to care, focusing instead on preparing for her upcoming memory loss.

That day, she went to the university to handle some paperwork. As she left the office, she ran into Sophie at the stairwell.

"Isabella!" Sophie looked delighted to see her. "What brings you here? Are you looking for Professor Cross?"

She affectionately linked arms with Isabella, but Isabella pulled away coldly.

"Ethan's not here either," she said flatly. "So there's no need to pretend anymore."

Sophie's phone call during her birthday had already shattered the pretense between the two women.

But Sophie still wouldn't admit it, only widening her eyes to look at Isabella with innocent alarm.

"Isabella, what are you talking about? Are you still angry about the auction when Professor Cross bid on my photo? I'm sorry, I'm sorry—I really didn't mean for that to happen... If you're still angry, you can hit me..."

She actually grabbed Isabella's hand and tried to make her hit herself.

Isabella thought she was completely unhinged and immediately pulled her hand back.

"What are you doing..."

But as she pulled away, Sophie suddenly cried "Ah!" and lost her balance, tumbling backward down the stairs.

"Sophie!"

An urgent shout came from behind. Isabella turned to see Ethan appearing at the end of the hallway.

He rushed down to scoop up Sophie from the floor, his face pale with worry.

"Sophie, are you okay? You’re…”

Before Ethan could finish his sentence, Sophie burst into tears.

"Professor!" She grabbed Ethan's hand, crying pitifully. "Why did Isabella push me... Does... does she really hate me that much?"