Hearing Cassian’s voice, Thalia immediately began to sob.

“I know your mother passed away, and you’re in a terrible state. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to bear it alone… I just wanted to check on you.”

“Check on me?” I laughed, laughing until tears were forced out. “When you took him from me, were you checking on me like this too?”

She froze for a moment, blinking her wet eyes. “I didn’t take him… it was Cassian who—”

Cassian narrowed his eyes. “Everyone knows you hate her. Stop pretending to be innocent.”

I stared at him, blinked, and forced the tears back, letting out a cold laugh.

“She cries, and suddenly the whole world has wronged her. I so much as frown, and I become the villain? In your eyes, there has only ever been her. You have always only seen her.”

He hesitated, as if wanting to argue, but Thalia behind him grabbed his sleeve.

“Cassian, don’t be like this… it’s really not worth fighting over. It’s my fault. I overreacted. I just wanted to comfort her…”

Innocent. Fragile. Blameless.

Every word she spoke sounded like she was removing herself from responsibility, and at the same time reminding everyone that I was the unreasonable one.

It was that moment.

The fuse was completely lit.

I lifted my head and stared at the two of them, my chest tightening as if someone were squeezing it shut.

My voice was so cold it held no warmth at all.

“You really think I would waste time scheming against her?”

Cassian’s face darkened instantly.

“Enough!”

He shouted, and before I could even react—

Smack.

The slap landed on my face, sharp and clear, like ice cracking in the dead of winter.

My world went silent.

I staggered back from the blow and dropped to my knees on the rough concrete. My palm scraped open, a long gash tearing through skin as bright red blood spilled out.

I froze.

Cassian… hit me?

He really raised his hand against me.

He said nothing. No apology. No guilt.

He did not even look at me.

He turned away and gently pulled Thalia into his arms. That tender movement was like a dull knife, slowly slicing away the last trace of illusion left in my chest.

He protected her as if she were something fragile and priceless.

And I was left there by the roadside.

Like trash.

The car door slammed shut with a heavy bang, the vibration rattling through my bones.

When sound returned to the world, all that remained was my own breathing, ragged and desperate, like I was dying.

Not long after, the phone on the bedside table suddenly vibrated.

My fingers were still trembling, but I opened Instagram anyway.

Thalia’s new post jumped into view.

My breath stopped.

In the photo, they were at Disneyland.

She was wearing Mickey Mouse ears. So was he.

She linked her arm through his. He looked down at her, smiling softly, indulgently.

Like a couple deeply in love.

Like the kind of perfect match everyone believes in.

There were photos of the carousel, fireworks, parades.

Every single one was blindingly bright.

I stared at those pictures, feeling as if my chest had been torn wide open.

I remembered those nights.

Lying in his arms, I had once begged quietly.

“Cassian, can we go too? I want to wear those silly ears and eat Disney cotton candy…”

His answer had always been cold.

“That place is boring and childish.”

But now?

For her, he was willing to try anything.

Even dreams he once mocked, he would help her fulfill.

My fingers tightened around the phone, my knuckles turning white. Even breathing hurt.

So it turned out, everything I ever wanted, he was willing to give.

Just… not to me.

The pain felt like an invisible hand clamped tightly around my chest, making even breathing difficult.

In that moment, I truly realized for the first time how pitiful I had become.

I turned off the screen. In the darkness, my reflection surfaced. Pale face. Hollow eyes. Not a trace of life left.

The next second, my phone lit up.

A message from my lawyer.

The divorce procedures were basically completed. We could arrange the signing tomorrow.

I wandered outside for the entire day and only returned home after night fell. When I pushed the door open, a wave of cold air mixed with a strange, unfamiliar scent rushed toward me.

There was no trace of me left in the house.

Instead, Thalia’s presence was everywhere.

Her shawl lay carelessly draped over the back of the sofa.

On the coffee table sat a half finished glass of milk, still carrying her perfume. Soft, yet suffocating.

Even by the entrance, her pink slippers were placed neatly side by side, as if this home had always been waiting only for her.

I walked into the bedroom and sat at the desk, writing my final letter.

Not to him.

But to the naive, stubborn version of myself.

Tears fell silently, blurring the ink beneath my pen.

Cassian, I loved you for nearly fifteen years.

From the clumsy love letter I handed you in high school, to standing beside you at the altar, I always believed that if I loved you enough, you would eventually see me.

But in the end, I realized how completely wrong I was.

I thought marriage required effort from two people. Yet it turned into nothing more than chains binding you from pursuing your happiness.

I can no longer waste our time.

This time, I choose to let you go, and to let myself go as well.

After finishing, I placed the letter on the desk and gently pressed my discharge papers beneath it.

The miscarriage report.

Then, carefully, I erased every trace of myself from the room. I removed my fingerprint from the smart lock, packed my luggage, and left the place once called home.

Now, it was nothing more than a cold prison.

As I stepped out the door, sunlight fell across my face, and I found myself smiling for the first time in a long while.

Happy divorce, Cassian.

There will be no next time for us.

When Cassian returned home, night had already deepened.

He carried two bags of desserts. All of them were my favorites.

He looked exhausted. He must have spent a long time finding them.

But when his eyes landed on the letter on the table, the expression on his face froze.

An instinctive fear rose rapidly in his eyes, impossible to hide.

When he reached out to pick up the letter, his fingers trembled slightly. The thin paper was stained with tears, yet the words were sharp as blades.

We should never see each other again.

That single sentence struck him like a heavy punch to the gut, stealing his balance in an instant.

Then, he saw the medical report beside the letter.

Pregnant six weeks. Threatened miscarriage. Uterine evacuation completed.

At that moment, his phone vibrated.

A new message popped up.

“Mr. Cassian, the divorce procedures between you and Ms. Melody have been fully completed.”