There were 20 days left.

Lawrence started leaving earlier and coming home later than before.

The wedding he once promised felt like it had never existed at all.

Sometimes, I would see posts from his childhood friends. In the corner of their photos, there was always him, walking beside a woman.

That face was one I had already seen in the photo album on his phone.

That day, my company partner, Daphne Bishop, stopped me.

"Bring the design drafts later. We're going to sign a contract with the client. I heard this client is Mr. Schwartz's rumored lover."

I nodded, a little distracted.

Even though he was my partner, none of my colleagues were aware that I knew Lawrence, much less that we were secretly married.

The client's office was right downstairs from Lawrence's company.

I knew this was the new company Kayla had set up after returning, funded by Schwartz Corporation.

Lately, financial news had been full of stories hyping up their past romance.

When we entered the CEO's office, unsurprisingly, I saw Lawrence.

He was holding an exquisitely wrapped gift box and handing it to the woman sitting in the executive chair.

Kayla.

The moment Lawrence saw me, his expression froze.

Everyone in the room sensed something was off.

Kayla looked at me with a hint of amusement, asking, "And who is this?"

Lawrence fell silent, clearly weighing how to explain.

I smiled and introduced myself to everyone. "My name's Rebecca Neel. I'm the designer for this project. Mr. Schwartz and I are…"

Lawrence and I spoke at the same time.

"College friends."

As the words fell, my fingers tightened around the design drafts until my knuckles turned pale.

My fingertips pressed a deep crease into the paper.

This wasn't the first time I had covered for Lawrence, and it wasn't the first time he didn't want my identity made public.

A secret marriage hid the truth of who we were to each other. It also sealed the fact that there would be no future for us.

The rest of the business meeting went badly.

Lawrence slipped back into his elite business persona, representing Kayla as he pressed relentlessly during negotiations.

"Lower the price by another 10%."

He pushed our profit margin and bottom line to the absolute limit.

Daphne hesitated, then clenched her teeth and agreed. "Fine. You really live up to your reputation, Mr. Schwartz. You read our bottom line perfectly."

The man lowered his eyes and didn't dare look at me.

He really was as ruthless as the rumors said.

It was just that now, that ruthlessness was aimed at me, his legal wife.

Kayla hadn't said a word the whole time. She just smiled softly, without a trace of warmth.

There was a bit of provocation in that smile, and even more pride.

She had won so completely. She deserved to be proud.

Kayla reached out to open the gift box on the table.

"Let's all have some cake."

Unexpectedly, Lawrence, who had been calm throughout the negotiations, rushed to stop her.

"Don't. You're allergic to peanut butter. Let me check it first."

At that moment, the scene in front of me turned into sharp blades, tearing straight through me.

In five years of marriage, this man had forgotten our anniversary and mixed up my birthday. Everything I ever reminded him about was brushed aside without a second thought.

However, he always remembered that I was allergic to peanut butter.

I once secretly felt glad.

Maybe all those details proved he didn't love me, but there was still one thing that showed a hint of his care for me.

But it turned out that even that hint was fake.

-

The project moved along quickly.

However, Lawrence thought it was too slow. Hence, he reminded Harlan more than once.

"This is Kayla's first project since coming back. I don't want it to fail."

I watched the whole thing with a kind of emotional detachment.

That night, after the negotiations ended and we got home, Lawrence hesitated on the couch for a long time.

In the end, he explained, "We're still secretly married. I just haven't found the right chance to explain it yet. In the future, I'll make it public. For now, the most important thing is getting this project done properly."

I nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

I didn't remind him that what should really matter most was the wedding we were supposed to have soon.

A wedding he had promised but never prepared for, not even once.

I also didn't remind him that by that day, the divorce cooling-off period would be over.

After all, in his eyes, Kayla still mattered the most.

During the project, Lawrence deliberately avoided situations where Kayla and I might meet, but Daphne still noticed something was off.

She asked me with clear curiosity, "Did you and Mr. Schwartz have something going on before?"

I smiled. "What do you mean?"

Daphne pursed her lips. "He's looked at you more than once with this really guilty expression. That's exactly how a guy who hasn't fully turned heartless yet looks at an ex."

I froze for a moment and thought back carefully.

It wasn't that I hadn't noticed. It was just that everything from the past made it impossible for me to trust what I saw in his eyes.

Ten days left.

That day was supposed to be our regular project meeting.

Kayla chatted with me for a long time. I wasn't sure if it was intentional. I knew she had probably figured out my relationship with Lawrence.

I still responded politely.

After the meeting, Lawrence unexpectedly offered to drive me home.

It was the first time.

"Your work ability really exceeded my expectations," he said.

After five years of marriage, this was the first time he had praised me.

My hands paused while organizing the files, and I looked at him in confusion.

Lawrence hesitated for a long time before finally saying, "The makeup wedding. Do you think we can make it?"

I lowered my head, knowing he probably wanted to cancel it. Most likely because of Kayla.

"Let's just cancel it. We don't have time to prepare, anyway."

I looked up at him, not exposing the truth and not wanting to make things awkward.

Lawrence stared at me in shock, as if he had gotten an answer he never expected.

He suddenly asked, "You're okay with that?"

Fair enough. If this were the past, I probably would've lost control on the spot, demanding an answer.

So many ugly moments in our marriage had come from my losing control, even though every one of those moments was caused by him.

I wore a small smile. "Of course. It's just a ceremony."

After a long silence, Lawrence spoke again on his own initiative.

"How about this? In a few days, I'll take you to the old town nearby to relax."

I looked down at the countdown on my phone.Ten more days until the entire divorce process is finalized.

I declined.

His hands stiffened on the steering wheel, and he almost ran a red light.

"What about the beach? Or we could go eat at that restaurant you've always wanted to try."

Lawrence suggested several ways to relax in a row, but I turned each one down.

By the time we got out of the car, his expression had shifted from awkwardness and guilt to confusion and irritation.

Seeing his face, I took the initiative and asked, "How about we go check out the old house?"

The old house was where Lawrence and I lived when we first got married.

I really did miss it a little.

Lawrence froze for a long time, clearly trying to figure out what I was thinking.

Even after I got out of the car, he was still sitting there, staring ahead for a long, long time.

One day left until the cooling-off period was over.

Maybe Lawrence and I had developed some unspoken understanding. It had become hard for us to appear together at project meetings.

Sometimes, when Kayla wasn't around, Lawrence would suddenly come downstairs. He wouldn't say anything during the meeting, just glance at me once or twice.

I didn't really understand what was going through his mind lately, and I didn't want to.

I started moving my things out little by little, trying not to let him notice.

But he still did.

That day, after the meeting, Lawrence took the initiative and invited me to sit in his office for a bit.

As soon as I sat down, he said, "You've moved a lot of stuff out recently. And you haven't been staying at home, either."

I nodded and used a reason I had already prepared. "Yeah. I'm staying at the old house for a while."

Lawrence hesitated, his expression uncertain. "About the wedding. I've thought about it a lot. We could still do the makeup ceremony…"

I cut him off. "There's not much time left. It's okay."

He looked surprised. "What do you mean, not much time left?"

I hesitated, wondering if I should show him the divorce papers he had already signed.

Kayla's call came at just the right moment and saved me the trouble.

I glanced at the name on his phone and smiled. "You should go handle that first. We don't need to talk about this right now."

Lawrence twisted the door handle. To make up for it, he turned back and repeated a promise.

"I'll definitely go to the old house to see you tomorrow."

The next day, he broke his promise anyway.

I sat on the couch in the old house, looking at my phone.

Twelve hours left.

A local news alert popped up. Kayla had appeared at a new project launch, with Lawrence standing behind her.

Thinking about the promise he had made yesterday, I let out a self-deprecating smile. If he knew these were the last 12 hours with me, would he still break his promise?

Maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he still would.

Either way, the answer didn't matter anymore.

I spent a few hours tidying up the place.

The old house was empty. There really wasn't much of my stuff left.

Still, we had gotten married here, and I couldn't help feeling nostalgic.

I called Daphne. I had told her in advance, but I still said goodbye properly.

Then, I called my lawyer. "The divorce agreement was notarized a month ago. I don't need to redo any procedures now, right?"

His reply was brief. "No."

After a short pause, he added, "Congratulations, Ms. Neel."

I smiled and hung up.

I sat there quietly until night fell.

Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day.

Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album.

Last hour. I neatly placed the divorce agreement on the table.

I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it.

At the exact moment the countdown ended, I dragged my suitcase and placed my hand on the door handle.

My marriage was over.

Right then, to my surprise, the door opened from the outside.

Lawrence stood there, sweat on his forehead, looking like he had run all the way. He was breathing hard, a guilty smile still on his face.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. I just finished taking someone back. The car broke down on the way, so I rushed over…"

His voice trailed off as his gaze fell on my luggage and the plane ticket in my hand.

"Where are you going?"