Irene went to the hospital, and the surgery went smoothly.

During the observation period, a faint dizziness lingered. It took her a bit of effort to fumble her phone out.

More than a dozen missed calls were from Ethan, mixed in with a stream of messages.

Without exception, every single one was about Sophie.

The silver Porsche had been wrapped in a flashy rose-pink vinyl, because Sophie liked it.

The interior accessories had been completely replaced too. In the photos, an eyesore of a storage box lay on the ground, stuffed with Irene's belongings.

Ethan had rarely bothered to ask her opinion, "Do you want me to bring them back, or throw them away?"

She pressed her lips together before replying, "Throw them away. None of it matters."

The lipstick was a gift from him. The keychain had been a matching pair. Mixed in among them was a lone wedding ring.

She had taken it off the day she learned the truth and tossed it in without a second thought.

None of it mattered anymore.

But Ethan called her directly. "I'm at the hospital with Sophie. Did I just see you?"

She was just about to brush it off when she looked up and saw Ethan coming up from a side elevator, his arm linked with Sophie's.

For a brief moment, the first thought that flashed through Irene's mind was relief.

At least her observation period was over, and she had come downstairs for some air.

Ethan walked over, his expression flat. "What are you doing here?"

"Getting a prescription for nutritional supplements."

Sophie interlaced her fingers with his, tilting her head as she looked at Irene with a half-smile.

"What a coincidence. No matter where I go, I always seem to run into you, Irene."

She had an innocent, first-love kind of face, her tender, luminous skin setting off a pair of eyes that shimmered softly.

Irene felt nothing but irritation at the sight.

She had deliberately chosen a hospital with no ties to the Hart family, yet still managed to run into them.

Ethan didn't notice her pallor at all, or the slight tremor running through her as she stood there.

He only frowned, tightening his grip on Sophie's hand.

"Perfect timing. Sophie wants beef stew. I had Agnes buy the ingredients. Go back and make it."

Irene ignored him completely and walked straight past.

Ethan kept talking behind her, "And nutritional food too. Sophie will want it as soon as we get home."

She had no choice but to stop. Turning back, she looked at him with a mix of anger and disbelief.

"Ethan, if you want to please her, you don't need to order me around. Why does your precious childhood sweetheart insist on eating something I made?"

Before Ethan could respond, Sophie spoke up softly.

"Irene, I heard from Agnes that you used to stay up late cooking all the time. Why is it suddenly not okay when I want some?"

The moment it was mentioned, Irene felt a tight, suffocating pressure in her chest.

In the first two years after the marriage, Ethan had thrown himself entirely into work, exhausting himself fighting his father's illegitimate sons for the family inheritance.

She had set aside everything else, cooking and taking care of him so he could have no worries at home.

Her homemade warm milk for easing hangovers had become famous among his circle of friends, something Ethan often brought up to show off his wife.

But those days were long gone.

With a faint, ironic smile, she glanced at Sophie, who was practically leaning into Ethan's arms.

"Didn't Agnes tell you that myocardial ischemia isn't suited for greasy food? Oh right, Agnes's son died from this exact condition, after all…"

"Irene!" Ethan cut her off sharply, his face livid.

"Irene, why would you curse me out of nowhere?" Sophie's eyes reddened, her lips trembling, looking utterly pitiful.

Irene instantly lost any desire to keep sparring with words. Looking at Sophie for even another second felt unpleasant.

Just as she was about to leave, Ethan suddenly grabbed her wrist.

"Apologize to Sophie. You know she's sick. How could you talk to her like that?"

Irene tried to pull free but realized Ethan was using all his strength. She wrenched herself away fiercely, her wrist already ringed with bruises.

"If she's sick, she should go see a doctor. And if saying sorry were enough to cure her…" Irene stared coldly at Ethan's ashen face. "Then what, she's supposed to beg me on the spot?"

"You—" Ethan suddenly raised his hand, only to freeze it mid-swing.

He breathed hard, forcing himself to calm down, his tongue pressing against his cheek.

In a cold, low voice, he said, "Irene, you'll regret this."

Irene didn't spare him a glance. Rubbing her wrist, she turned and walked away.

It didn't take long for her to understand what Ethan meant by regret.

When Elaine informed her about the shareholders' meeting, she hesitated, as if holding something back.

"Irene, Ethan has lost his memory, he doesn't even know what he's doing himself. Don't take it to heart."

In the past, Irene would have teared up at those words of comfort.

But ever since she realized how closely aligned mother and son were, she knew exactly what Ethan was plotting and how Elaine was trying to keep her in place.

There was nothing left for her to cling to.

From the moment she stepped into the meeting room, almost every shareholder looked at her with curious, probing eyes.

Back when Ethan held absolute power, he had coaxed and pestered her into coming to the office with him, claiming he couldn't be away from her for even a second.

"You can sketch or work on your designs next to me. I just don't want you out of my sight."

He had been willful then, reckless in the way only someone intoxicated by love could be.

But after he lost his memory, Irene had never set foot in the company again.

The shareholders whispered among themselves, making no effort to lower their voices despite her presence.

"Why is she still here? Didn't we hear that Mr. Hart already filed for divorce?"

"The Shaw family landed plenty of projects through Mr. Hart over the years. As Gordon Shaw's daughter, how could she possibly give up her position?"

Irene sat there calmly, twirling a pen between her fingers, until Ethan finally arrived, Sophie's arm looped through his.

He pulled out a chair for Sophie, seated her beside him, and naturally took her hand.

Then he cast a scrutinizing glance toward Irene.

"Ms. Shaw, please leave now. I've already signed the equity transfer agreement. You're no longer qualified to sit here."

She laughed softly, the kind of smile that came only when words were pointless.

Irene stood up calmly. She didn't look at Ethan, fixing her gaze instead on Elaine, whose face betrayed a guilty unease.

"I suppose, for now, I still count as your daughter-in-law. Is this really what you wanted?"

Before Elaine could respond, Sophie spoke first, her face ashen. "Irene, this was Ethan's decision. Please don't make things difficult for Elaine."

It was obvious she and Ethan had rehearsed this line of reasoning long ago.

"My parents entrusted all their assets to Ethan back then. Now that they're gone, he wants me to carry on their wishes. That's why he's returning the shares that should have been mine."

Utter nonsense poured from her lips with righteous conviction, bold enough to twist black into white in public.

"Besides, your marriage to Ethan was a mistake to begin with. Your father has caused him plenty of trouble over the years. How much more do you want to take before you're satisfied?"

Seeing the chill deepen in Irene's eyes, Elaine had no choice but to step in.

"Irene, let's talk about this when we get home. Why don't you… head back first?"

Before she could finish, Ethan pressed a call button, his expression icy.

"Security, come escort Ms. Shaw out."

That public display of cutting ties only drew sharper, more mocking looks from the already curious shareholders.

Someone couldn't hold back. "Mrs. Hart… ahem, Ms. Shaw, why not leave on your own? What are you waiting for?"

"If security has to drag you out, it won't look good. What would that do to Gordon's reputation?"

Blood rushed to Irene's head, until her phone began to buzz.

She glanced down quickly. Caleb had sent his congratulations, her application approved.

She let out a quiet breath, pushed back her chair, and walked out without looking back.

If she stayed even one second longer, she feared she might slap that hypocritical face of Ethan's.

As expected, Elaine came to smooth things over afterward, solemnly handing Irene an equity agreement.

It transferred twelve percent of the shares under her name to Irene.

"What Sophie said isn't entirely untrue. We were close to her parents back then. The two of them grew up together, so it's natural their bond runs deeper than most."

She gently patted the back of Irene's hand, studying her noticeably thinner face with a hint of reluctance.

"When Ethan remembers everything, he'll make it right with you. For now, listen to me. Don't hold this against him."

Without a word, Irene withdrew her hand, her long lashes lowering to conceal what stirred beneath her eyes.

"If we really can't go on, would you take these shares back?" Irene asked.

"Of course not. This is your security." Elaine answered without hesitation, but Irene caught every flicker of avoidance in her eyes.

She knew Elaine didn't truly believe she and Ethan would ever sever ties completely.

So she accepted the agreement without objection.

Over the next few days, she secured an apartment overseas while beginning to sort out her personal assets back home.

Gordon had heard the news early and called relentlessly, frantic and desperate. She ignored every single call.

His messages swung between feigned humility and outright threats.

"Irene, listen to me. You need to know your place. Endure what you must. Without Ethan, you're nothing."

"So many projects are underway. The cash flow can't break now. Don't do anything stupid."

Each message that came in was deleted without a glance.

When Irene was twenty, after Gordon discovered she wasn't his biological daughter, he cut off all financial support overnight.

She remembered standing awkwardly outside the academic office, clutching her design drafts, helpless over tuition that amounted to only a few thousand dollars.

Back then, Gordon had done exactly what she was doing now, no replies, no answered calls.

If not for that man's appearance, her life would have veered onto an entirely different path.

That day had been drenched in heavy rain as well. Soaked through, Irene ended the final call and stood penniless at the end of the corridor.

From the far end, the man walked toward her, removed his wool coat still warm with body heat, and wrapped it around her shoulders.

"You're Irene? We've met before."

Her teeth chattered uncontrollably as he guided her inside. She watched, almost numb, as he signed with effortless ease.

"From now on, her tuition and living expenses will be covered by this card."

As he gave instructions to his assistant, he frowned slightly and reached out to tuck her disheveled hair behind her ear.

That night, she developed a high fever, the kind that strikes after days of strain finally give way.

Irene murmured weakly, "Why are you helping me?"

The man's hand rested against her forehead. "I promised your mother that if I ever could, I would take good care of you."

In the years that followed, she consulted him on every major decision.

The one thing she never told him was her decision to marry Ethan.

After the wedding, he disappeared from her life entirely, while Gordon came crawling back instead.

Ethan, unaware of the truth, fawned over Gordon as his father-in-law. Irene didn't bother to expose it.

In the blink of an eye, several years passed, and every relationship seemed to circle back to where it began.

"Valemont…"

Irene checked the distance between her apartment and his on the digital map. It was far, far enough to feel like their lives would never intersect again.

After successfully proposing, Ethan had once asked smugly, "Irene, was I the one who chased you the hardest?"

Irene gave a noncommittal nod.

In truth, he wasn't.

Long before him, Adrian Wells had already set a standard none of Ethan's efforts could surpass.

The difference was that Adrian never confessed, yet he always appeared after every storm, like a brilliant rainbow suspended above her moments of isolation.

After days of hesitation, she finally sent him an email. "You were right back then. I chose wrong again."