I was Randy Johnson's contract wife.

For five years, I tried every possible way to make him fall in love with me. But aside from showing me concern in bed, he ignored me the rest of the time.

When a piece of equipment at the amusement park fell and struck me, the first thing he did was rush to his beloved first love.

She was startled but unscathed. Yet, he rushed her straight to the hospital.

When a towering cake display collapsed on me, leaving blood streaming down my arm, he still chose to comfort his first love, who merely had a stomachache.

Since he loved her so deeply, there was no reason for me, his contract wife, to stay.

So I let him go and freed myself in the process.

I chose to study abroad, vowing never to see him again for the rest of my life.

I never expected… this time, he would be the one to regret it.

After preparing dinner to suit Randy Johnson's tastes, I went to the bathroom to run his bath in advance.

That evening, he returned home two hours later than usual.

I stepped forward to greet him, took his suit jacket, and crouched down to set his slippers neatly at his feet.

"Dinner first, or a bath?" I asked.

Without lifting his gaze from his phone, he replied, "Bath."

So I went back to the bathroom, drained the water, and refilled it, adjusting the temperature to exactly how he liked it.

By the time Randy emerged from the bathroom in his pajamas, I had reheated the food.

Everything was in order, everything perfectly timed—because I had done these things countless times over the past five years.

He was long accustomed to my care.

Lately, his mood had been unusually good. He kept staring at his phone, a faintly suggestive smile tugging at his lips from time to time.

In five years of marriage, I had never seen him smile like that.

As I passed by, my eyes caught the pinned contact at the top of his screen: Jeanne Moss.

I looked away, but my heart understood.

Jeanne was his childhood sweetheart. Randy had liked her since they were young, but she had wanted to take things slowly. So he guarded his feelings for her all those years.

When he finally gathered the courage to confess, Jeanne had abruptly married another man in a whirlwind wedding and moved overseas.

After that, he drowned himself in alcohol day after day, wasting away like a fallen prodigy.

I was once a poor student sponsored by the Johnson family. When I visited to express my gratitude, Randy's mother said to me, "If you truly wish to repay us, do me a favor."

She wanted me to help Randy move past his heartbreak.

From that day on, everyone in our circle knew that there was a woman by Randy's side who loved him to her very bones.

I made it my mission to learn his every preference, to weave myself into his life.

As a child, he had dreamed of watching the sunset with his family, but his parents had been too busy with work, leaving him with that unfulfilled wish.

When I learned of it, I spent half a year searching for the perfect spot to admire the sunset and waited for him all night atop a mountain.

In the end, the sun sank and slowly disappeared. Night finally fell, yet the space beside me remained empty.

Still, I didn't give up.

Once, aboard a cruise, he made a bet with his friends: whoever brought a date who could finish all the alcohol on the table would be awarded a brand-new company project.

The table was piled high with strong liquor. For a moment, no woman dared speak.

But I knew Randy had been working nonstop for days on that very project. Without hesitation, I stepped forward and began drinking, glass after glass.

I had a mild alcohol allergy, and as the burning liquor slid down my throat, red blotches bloomed across my skin. The suffocating tightness in my chest grew worse, and just before my consciousness slipped away, I forced down the final drop.

That night, for the first time, Randy lost his composure for me.

His face, usually cold and aloof, was shadowed with fear. As he held me tightly, I could feel his body trembling.

Randy's choked voice and the steady thrum of his heartbeat filled my ears at once.

"Zoey, let's get married. I'll… try to love you."

I thought my devotion had finally melted his heart. But later, I realized it had all been wishful thinking on my part.

Not long ago, Jeanne's marriage collapsed, and she returned home in disgrace. To ensure he could see her the moment she landed, Randy sped to the airport and ended up in a car accident.

I stayed by his side for three days and nights without sleep, yet on that hospital bed, he called Jeanne's name a thousand times.

Five years of giving him everything still couldn't compare to a single tear from his precious Jeanne.

I knew then, my mission from five years ago would never be fulfilled.

Now, with Jeanne divorced and my contract with him at its end, everything fell into place with a cruel kind of inevitability.

After years of waiting, Randy finally had his beloved turn back to him, and the lock on my cage fell away.

I had been waiting for this moment for five years.

After dinner, Randy's mother called.

I stepped out onto the balcony and answered.

"Zoey, have you decided? Do you really want to divorce Randy?"

I gazed quietly out the window. Beneath the wall lamp, the petals of the cloud blossom were slowly unfolding.

After a long pause, I said, "Anne, Randy and I were bound only by that piece of paper. Now the contract has ended, and with Jeanne back, leaving is the best choice."

Anne Perkins' sigh drifted through the speaker and into my ear. "These years have been hard on you. Well, five years ago, you gave up the chance to study abroad for Randy. Now that you're divorcing, do you want me to help arrange things over there?"

My gaze shifted slightly. I looked at the blossom stretching ever wider and felt my lips curve faintly. "Thank you. I'd appreciate that."

Five years ago, I was a top art student. To help Randy escape his heartbreak, I gave up the chance to further my studies.

My life had been on pause for far too long. Now, at last, I could move forward again. My absurd marriage was finally coming to an end.

At some point, the cloud blossom outside had withered in silence, leaving only the wall lamp glowing alone.

"Who were you talking to?"

Perhaps noticing my absence, Randy had come to find me on the balcony. A faint trace of inquiry lingered between his brows, and his dark eyes fixed intently on me.

I turned calmly, my voice light. "No one."

That night, when the world fell silent, moonlight spilled through the window.

I sat motionless, staring at Randy's face.

His bone structure was exquisite, his thin lips pressed faintly together, long lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes, trembling ever so slightly with each rise and fall of his chest.

Perhaps dreaming, he turned over. And the next moment, murmured in his sleep.

"Jeanne…"

I froze for a heartbeat, then let out a bitter smile.

Even in dreams, it was her. He truly did love his childhood sweetheart.

The next morning, Randy stepped out of the bedroom fully dressed. When his eyes fell on the breakfast laid out on the table, his brows knitted.

His gaze on me carried an uncharacteristic edge of reproach.

"Didn't I tell you I don't like Nerovian dishes?"

I lowered my eyes, speared a bite, and placed it in my mouth.

"The only ingredients left in the house are for this," I said.

He didn't think much of it and sat down reluctantly.

In truth, the fridge still held plenty of other ingredients, but I was busy preparing to study abroad.

All the while, his attention never left his phone. His eyes were bright with anticipation, as though waiting for a message from someone.

I took one look at the anticipation on Randy's face and knew instantly.

There was no need to guess. Whatever Jeanne had sent him, it made Randy genuinely happy. The icy mask he usually wore seemed to melt, softening into a faint smile like spring sunlight breaking through winter frost.

Before long, he abandoned his meal altogether. His eyes were glued to the screen as he busied himself typing.

Watching him, I took out the divorce papers I had prepared a long time ago and held them where he could see.

"Let's get a divorce."

He didn't even glance up. His gaze stayed fixed on his phone, and at my words, he merely nodded faintly, answering with a perfunctory "Mm."

I wasn't surprised. He had treated me with the same indifference for the past five years. Now that Jeanne had returned, he would be even less willing to waste a single moment on me.

Flipping the document to the last page, I pointed at the signature line.

"Sign here."

He took the pen without hesitation, still typing with his other hand, never sparing the agreement a look.

"From this moment on, there will be nothing between us," I said.

I tucked the papers away and looked at him quietly.

He only responded with another faint "Mm," wiped his hands with a handkerchief, and rose to leave, never once setting his phone aside.

As I watched him walk away, I couldn't stop myself from asking, "Randy, did you hear what I just said?"

His steps faltered slightly. He turned, puzzled, irritation flickering in his eyes at being interrupted. "Isn't it about that public welfare subsidy? Didn't I just sign the contract? What's the problem?"

I let out a small, self-mocking laugh and shook my head. The charity contract had been signed long ago.

Forget it. Whether he cared or not no longer mattered.

After he left, I put up for sale everything I had ever received from the Johnson family. When I finished, I gathered all the gifts I had once given him and sold them for scrap.

Over the years, I had prepared countless presents for him, but he would merely glance at them once before tossing them into a corner. He had never cherished a single thing I did.

As the scrap truck rolled away, I brushed the dust from my clothes and turned toward the villa, only to have a Bentley stop in front of me.

Out stepped the Johnson siblings and a delicate, pretty woman.

It was my first time seeing Jeanne.

Her blonde hair fell to her waist, and her eyes seemed to hold a faint allure even in a casual glance. Yet she wore a white dress, giving her an air of innocence. No wonder Randy could never let her go.

Patricia Johnson's gaze followed the scrap truck until it disappeared. She swept her eyes over me from head to toe, the ridicule in her expression unmasked.

"As expected from someone who came from a poor family. You even sell scrap for cash."

At this, Jeanne stepped forward and took her hand, her eyes glimmering softly. "Patricia, that's not very polite. Zoey is still your sister-in-law."

Patricia pursed her lips in frustration, shooting me a sharp glare.

Off to the side, Randy chuckled under his breath. He reached out to fondly ruffle Jeanne's hair. But when his gaze shifted to me, all warmth was gone, replaced only by cold detachment.

"Jeanne wants to go to the amusement park. You can come along," he said, tossing the words at me like a handout before turning to get in the car.

On the way there, the three of them chatted merrily, shutting me out entirely.

After a while, as if suddenly remembering my existence, Jeanne turned to me with a hint of apology.

"Zoey, sorry for ignoring you. It's just… you weren't part of our lives before."

Her words stirred nothing in me. I returned her smile politely.

Their lives—past and future—would never involve me again.