I sat in my car for what felt like ages before the tears finally came. Memphis had been my childhood friend, my closest companion, and, or so I believed, my lover since as far back as I can remember. We grew up together, doing silly things, traveling together, and he would drop everything to console me when I was feeling down.

He constantly surprised me—bringing roses when visiting me on set. Our relationship was far beyond what happened between the sheets. We strolled through the streets, he spent long phone calls just to lift my spirits, and on the nights I won awards, he held my hand as we wandered by the river. Despite how busy he was, he always made time for me. I thought what we had was real love.

Yet, in his eyes, I still wasn't worthy to be his wife. Our relationship, an open secret, would soon become fodder for ridicule when he married Amaia. I hastily wiped my tears, realizing my parents might know about this. They were aware of my bond with Memphis, so why didn’t anyone tell me about Amaia’s engagement? Memphis’s words 'whether the Bennetts want you or not' seemed strange to me.

With the engagement party next month during Thanksgiving, given my parents’ usual extravagance, a month’s preparation seemed absurdly rushed. The more I thought about it, the colder I felt, not just towards Memphis but also my parents. Were my parents really the ones who willingly cast me aside?

I had planned to go home but hesitated. I had always felt like an outsider. So I returned to my small apartment and called Emerie.

Emerie, my dear friend, wasn’t born into wealth, which made my parents disapprove of our friendship. But I saw potential in Emerie, and secretly lent her money to start a company. At first, it neither flourished nor flopped, but within two years, it thrived thanks to some favorable policies. Emerie became a renowned entrepreneur, and I was the silent major shareholder. No one else knew of this arrangement.

"Emerie, can you do me a favor?" I asked.

"Of course, you know you can count on me," Emerie responded cheerfully.

"I want to find my real parents."

Emerie could hear the weight in my voice, and she paused before saying, "Okay, I'll keep an eye out. Can you find your adoption papers?"

"I'll search for them," I replied.

"Alright. How are things with Memphis?" she asked.

I smiled sadly, "What kind of friends are we if you haven’t heard the rumors?"

"Yeah, I heard he’s engaged to Amaia, but I’m not sure how true it is," Emerie said.

"It's all true."

"And your relationship with Memphis?"

"It's over."

Emerie consoled me briefly, and her words did bring some relief. However, to find my biological parents and uncover the truth of what happened years ago, I knew I had to go back home.

The next day, I packed a few essentials and drove back. That little apartment was my secret refuge, bought without my parents knowing. Emerie's company’s success meant my investment paid off significantly. Indeed, making the right choice was more important than sheer effort.

But no one knew about this; it was a safeguard against my parents discovering I lent Emerie money. And looking back now, I’m glad I kept it all to myself.

As soon as I walked in, Milena saw me and rushed over, her face lighting up with happiness. "Aleena, why didn't you give me a heads-up you were coming today? I didn't get a chance to whip up your favorite spiced honey cake."

I looped my arm through hers with a smile. "You can make it next time, Milena. Consider this your chance for a breather."

"It's never a bother—I'll bake as much as you want, Aleena."

I felt a warmth spreading through me; Milena is like a second mother to me.

Taking a seat at the dining table, Amaia wasn’t here yet, but someone unexpected was—Memphis Reyes. Despite the close moments we had last night, now we acted like strangers, not even meeting each other's eyes.

My father, well-versed in navigating awkward situations, chose to ignore the strained atmosphere and the engagement debacle, cheerfully chatting about my work, life, and reminding me to visit home occasionally instead of burying myself at the office all the time.

I had quit my previous job when Emerie's company took off, but I hadn't told the family yet, worried they’d oppose my decision and stir up more drama.

Nodding along with Dad, I sneaked a glance at Memphis. As usual, he looked indifferent, playing on his phone, fingers tapping away as if he was chatting with someone. Was it Amaia? When did they start talking?

My mother came downstairs and, upon seeing me, her face briefly showed surprise before she awkwardly said, "Aleena, you're home? I thought you were staying at a friend's last night..."

Her attempt to patch things up was feeble, and a stern look from Dad shut her up.

I got it; Memphis must have already told them about our 'breakup.' Looks like the Bennetts are prepared to let me go. It makes sense—who wouldn’t want the Scott family’s wealth? No matter how close I am to them, there’s no blood relation; naturally, marrying off the real heiress is more secure.

I nodded slightly. "I've been transferred to the subsidiary, which is too far from home, so I'm thinking of moving out."

Mom glanced helplessly at Dad, as if she wanted to voice something, but when he stayed silent, she had no choice but to assure me, "Sweetheart, I'm aware of what happened with Memphis... This will always be your home, don’t fret about it."

Memphis chuckled after a moment. "Mrs. Bennett, you're too kind. Aleena and I are just friends, and saying things like that isn't fair to her. Please, let’s avoid such comments in the future."

Dad gave Mom a warning look, dragging the room into silence.

I clenched my fist, then slowly relaxed it, adjusting my expression back to neutral and smiled. "I know, Mom. Let’s just sit and eat, don’t worry too much."

Even with my reassurances, Mom still seemed worried, although, with Dad dominating the household, her influence was minimal, so she sat down, trying to talk to me to make sure I was genuinely okay.

Internally, I sighed. Mom married into the family, never really having a say in the Bennett household. As her relationship with Dad has dwindled, she lives cautiously every day. I shouldn't be hard on her; she might be the only person here who actually cares about me.