On Christmas Eve, while her husband takes their son to watch fireworks with his first love, Justine Payne finally makes up her mind—she's getting a divorce.

They've been married for five years. To everyone else, she's the lucky woman with the perfect life. She has a devoted husband and a smart, adorable son.

But only she knows the truth—her husband has never let go of his first love.

Even worse, the child she nearly died giving birth to can't wait to replace her with someone else.

So, Justine decides to set them both free—a husband whose heart doesn't truly belong to her and a son who can't wait to replace her. She refuses to keep holding on to love that isn't returned.

The fireworks burst in rapid succession outside the window, breaking the silence of the night.

Justine Payne blinked back to reality. She ran her fingers over the divorce agreement in her hand, then slowly picked up a pen and signed her name.

Tonight was Christmas Eve, but neither her husband nor her son had come home.

A message buzzed on her phone. It was from her husband, Noah Oliver. "Out with clients. I asked my assistant to watch Gavi for a bit. After dinner, I'll take him to see the fireworks. Don't wait up—get some rest."

Justine pulled the corners of her lips into a faint, mocking smile.

Noah wasn't with a client, and he hadn't taken their son, Gavin, to see fireworks just for fun.

Justine knew exactly where they were and who they were with. There was no need to ask, no need to investigate. Noah and Gavin were spending Christmas Eve with that woman, Hazel Gilbert.

Her gaze landed on the large family portrait hanging in the living room. Noah was holding Gavin in one arm while the other was wrapped around her waist. Noah kissed her cheek while Gavin pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Her face was glowing with happiness; Gavin was laughing freely; even Noah, who always wore a stoic expression, looked gentle.

To anyone else, they looked like the perfect family of three. But everything changed the moment Hazel came back.

Just as fireworks lit up the sky again, Justine's phone buzzed. She had been sent a video.

Hazel had filmed the backs of Noah and Gavin, the two of them walking side by side. The diamond ring on her finger sparkled blindingly as she held the camera. The three of them shouted together, "Merry Christmas!"

Then, Noah turned around, his eyes warm as he said softly to Hazel, "Starting this year, I'll never miss another Christmas with you."

That kind of tenderness… He had never shown it to Justine.

Even during the two most passionate years of their marriage, through anniversaries and holidays, all he had ever given her was a brief kiss on the forehead and a cold, mechanical "Thanks".

Justine had always thought Noah was like a statue—distant and unfeeling.

Now, she knew better. He wasn't cold; he just never warmed up to her. Hazel was the one who got his tenderness.

She closed the video.

As the last of the fireworks sizzled out in the distance, she typed a message to Noah. "Come home early. We're visiting your parents' grave tomorrow."

This was the last time she would fulfill her duty as a daughter-in-law. In one month, they would be strangers. This ridiculous, one-sided marriage was finally coming to an end.

She didn't know how long she sat there before the front door opened. Noah paused in the doorway, surprised to see Justine still in the living room. His gaze flicked to the dining table, where a full Christmas Eve dinner sat untouched. Still, his expression remained unreadable.

"Can't even get peace on Christmas. What a buzzkill."

A sharp, youthful voice echoed behind him.

Gavin stormed inside, kicking his shoes off in two opposing directions. His heavy steps thudded noisily against the hardwood floor.

Justine couldn't help but remind him, "It's late. Keep it down."

That only made Gavin angrier, and he shouted back, "You're not the boss of me! You're a freak!"

Then, his eyes dropped to her right hand, and his face twisted with disgust. "You've only got three fingers. Freak."

Justine instinctively pulled her right hand back. The hand, missing both her ring and pinky fingers, trembled slightly. No matter how determined she was to leave them behind, the cruelty in her son's words still cut deep. For a moment, she couldn't breathe.

Noah stood by silently, not saying a single word to stop Gavin. He let the son she carried for nine months, the child she nearly died giving birth to, humiliate her like this.

A door slammed upstairs. Gavin had stormed into his room, slamming it with so much force that it shook the walls.

Only then did Noah finally move. He stepped into the living room and spoke with a hint of irritation. "It's Christmas; everyone's celebrating. A little noise doesn't matter. You always make a big deal out of nothing. No wonder Gavi doesn't like you."

Justine gave a cold, mocking smile. "What if someone downstairs is spending Christmas alone, just like me? Maybe they just want a quiet night."

Her words seemed to catch Noah off guard. For a second, guilt flickered across his face as he glanced at the untouched table full of food.

Her tone stayed indifferent. "As for Gavin… Do you really think he hates me for no reason? Or could it be that someone's spouting poison in his ear, teaching him to resent me?"

Noah froze. Whatever guilt he had vanished instantly. His brows creased, and his voice turned sharp. "Are you talking about Hazel? I came home out of kindness to keep you company, and this is how you thank me?"

Justine looked at his angry expression, finding it pathetic and ridiculous. She said nothing. Instead, she turned and picked up the signed divorce agreement, then headed toward the walk-in closet that had become her bedroom.

Gavin had refused to let her sleep in any other room, and Noah let him have his way.

So, the walk-in closet—cramped and lined with nothing but her clothes—became her final refuge. As she shut the door behind her, the crash of plates hitting the floor echoed from the dining room. She locked the door with a blank expression, pretending she heard nothing. She wasn't going to indulge them anymore.

After all, she had no reason to keep forgiving strangers.

Early the next morning, Justine was already up and dressed. She had washed up and changed into the black formal suit she pulled out last night. She looked in the mirror—at her pale face and hollow eyes—and nearly laughed. She really did look like someone going to a graveyard.

As soon as she stepped into the living room, Gavin clicked his tongue loudly. He grabbed his half-finished bowl and purposely bumped into her. The chowder spilled on her blouse, soaking through the fabric.

He smirked, his voice thick with mockery. "Disgusting."

Justine looked at the boy who used to be sweet and well-mannered but was now brash and mean-spirited. The sight filled her with a deep, quiet sorrow.

She had fought tooth and nail to give him the best—tracking down elite tutors and even standing in the pouring rain to beg one of them to take him on. She had burned with fever for three days afterward.

At the time, she thought she was paving a path for him to grow into someone kind and upright. She had no idea that a few poisonous words from Hazel could undo everything she built.

As Gavin turned smugly to leave, Justine grabbed his arm, and her voice was cold. "Apologize."

Gavin had never seen her like this—cold and firm. It startled him. But the moment passed, and he snapped back with fury, "I'm not apologizing to you! Back in the day, freaks like you were burned at the stake!"

Justine struck him across the face. The sharp crack of the slap cut through the room like a whip.

Gavin clutched his reddened cheek, staring at her in disbelief. "You hit me?"

Noah rushed in, pulling Gavin behind him. He snapped, "Why did you hit him?"

Justine withdrew her hand and shook it off casually. "Because I'm his mother. It's my job to discipline him."

Noah didn't hesitate. "You're not needed for that."

Justine let out a quiet scoff, and her voice remained detached. "Don't worry. It won't be much longer."

She looked calm and spoke evenly, yet something about her was completely unlike the woman Noah thought he knew. Noah frowned, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't answer and simply reminded him, "It's time to go."

During the ride, Justine sat in the backseat, completely silent. She didn't say a word, looking just like a stranger who was catching a ride.

Noah kept glancing at her through the rearview mirror. The longer the silence stretched, the more certain he became that she was truly angry this time. If it had been before, the loud clatter of last night would have sent her storming out in a rage. At the very least, she would have tried to make peace this morning.

But now, she hadn't even noticed that they were eating leftover food from last night. She had even slapped Gavin.

Noah remembered the image of her sitting alone in the living room when he came home last night. Something about it unsettled him.

After a moment, he reached into the glovebox. When the traffic light turned red, he grabbed a small box and tossed it into the backseat.

It hit Justine squarely in the chest. She had been resting with her eyes closed when she immediately sat up, startled.

"What is wrong with you?" she snapped.

She had been married to Noah for five years, and had endured his indifference all the time. She'd had enough of his careless, disrespectful behavior.

Noah's expression changed instantly. "That's the gift I got you, and you're seriously asking if something's wrong with me? You sent me that message about visiting my parents' grave yesterday, and now, you're acting like someone just died. Isn't this just your way of forcing an apology out of me? Well, I've apologized now. What more do you want?"

The light turned green, and he had to cut himself off and keep driving.

Justine caught a glimpse of his annoyed face in the rearview mirror. He was upset again, though she had never once asked him for an apology. As always, he projected his own assumptions onto her, then turned around and blamed her for them.

She looked down, choosing not to argue. Casually, she flipped the box open. Inside sat a diamond ring. It sparkled under the light, but it was nothing special. She recognized it as one of Tréora's discontinued pieces.

To put it bluntly, it was a rejected design that was pulled from the market right after its launch—the kind of thing people wouldn't bother to pick up off the street.

The ring Hazel wore in the video yesterday was the latest one-of-a-kind release from Tréora, a global exclusive designed to symbolize eternal, one-of-a-kind love.

It turned out that Noah's mood swings in the past five years hadn't been because of work stress or overwhelming pressure. The lack of gifts hadn't been about him "not understanding romance".

It was just that he didn't love Justine. That was it.

With a soft snap, Justine shut the ring box and tossed it to the empty seat beside her. If it was trash, she wasn't going to carry it around with her.

They were still three miles from the graveyard when Noah's phone rang. He didn't even check who it was before pulling over. Clearly, he recognized the ringtone.

Without hesitation, he answered the call right in front of Justine. "Now? But I'm supposed to…"

Whatever was said on the other end immediately made him soften. His tone melted into something almost tender. "Okay, okay. I'll be right there."

It was strange seeing that kind of warm, gentle expression on his face. Justine had never thought he was capable of it.

She crossed her arms and waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, the moment he hung up, he turned around. "Something came up. I need to swing by the office. You'll have to go to the graveyard on your own."

Justine wasn't blind. She had seen the name "Hazel" flash across his screen.

He couldn't even be bothered to visit his own parents' graves—all for a woman. What a devoted lover he turned out to be.

Justine didn't hide the sarcasm in her voice. "You're seriously planning to drop me off in the middle of nowhere while you run off and skip visiting your parents' graves? Noah, those headstones up on the hill belong to the people who gave you life. And now, on Christmas Day, you're telling me some so-called emergency at work is more important than them?"

Noah's expression darkened at Justine's sharp words.

He snapped, "They were basically your parents too. What, is it too much to ask you to visit their graves? You're a grown woman. Don't tell me you don't know how to call a cab!"

He had always been cold, but not like this. Back then, even if he was annoyed, he would still make sure she was safe.

Justine didn't bother arguing anymore. She opened the door and stepped out, slamming it behind her with a sharp thud. Her irritation bled into every movement.

Noah didn't even hesitate. He spun the car around and sped off, a blast of exhaust blowing straight into her face.

Almost immediately, Justine's phone buzzed. A message from Hazel popped up with just six gloating words. "Beating you is just too easy."

Justine nearly gagged at the message. The smugness made her stomach churn. She scrolled upward through their message history. It was filled with Hazel's relentless harassment as she bragged day and night.

Justine had never replied.

At the start, she was so heartbroken that she could barely breathe. She cried through sleepless nights, too shattered to even type a single reply. But now, she was done. She was free. After a moment's thought, she typed out a line. "Wishing you an early congratulations on the wedding."

She meant it. In exactly one month, once the divorce was finalized, Noah would rush to marry the woman he had always loved.

She meant the blessing—just as much as she hoped that their marriage would unravel, thread by thread, until there was nothing left but broken vows and bitter regret.

Caught off guard, Hazel snapped and began ranting back. "You shameless woman! If it weren't for you, I would've married him long ago. Do you really think he ever loved you? Don't flatter yourself. You have no idea, do you? Gavi tells me all the time how he wishes you'd burn to death like the freak you are. He wants me to be his mom!"

Justine hadn't known about that last message. She stared at the screen in a daze, stunned that a child could say something so vicious.

But the sadness didn't linger. Like smoke in the wind, it faded quickly. No matter how cruel Gavin's words were, he soon wouldn't be her child anymore.

She turned on "Do Not Disturb", shut off her phone, and tucked it away.

It took her nearly an hour on foot to reach the gates of the graveyard. Kenelm George, the caretaker, was someone she had come to know over the years. After all, hardly anyone else would visit the graveyard on Christmas Day.

While signing her name in the log, he glanced behind her. "Came alone today?"

"Yeah." She kept it short.

Taking the flowers, she made her way along the familiar path. She knew every step by heart.

The portraits on the headstones showed a young couple, their smiles frozen in time. No one could have predicted what happened to them.

At the time of the accident, Justine had only just met Noah on a blind date. She still remembered how he had brought Hazel along as an act of silent rebellion.

Noah's father, Maxwell Oliver, had been driving. Noah's mother, Minerva Richardson, had sat in the passenger seat, doing her best to create a warm atmosphere to help the two young people connect. Justine had sat by the window while Hazel had been wedged in the middle.

Maybe Maxwell had been too focused on lightening the mood to notice the truck barreling out from the intersection.

The crash was brutal. In that split second, Justine only managed to pull Noah toward her, shielding him from the blow. But the metal shard from the truck sheared straight through the car door, slicing off her ring and pinky fingers.

Everything went black after that.

When Justine came to, Noah was at her bedside, his face swollen from crying. He glared at her with bitter resentment and squeezed five words through clenched teeth, "We're getting the marriage certificate."

Hazel had vanished without a word, and for a long time, Noah blamed Justine for his parents' deaths. But time had a way of softening even the deepest resentment.

Somewhere along the way—without either of them noticing when—the distance between Noah and Justine began to close. Somehow, they shared two unexpectedly tender years.

Then…

Justine blinked, snapping out of the memory. She gently placed the flowers in front of the headstones and said hoarsely, "This will be the last time I'm here as your daughter-in-law. I've given everything I had to stay by Noah's side. I've got nothing left. His one true love is back now, and maybe he'll finally be happy.

"You don't need to worry about him anymore. He couldn't make it today, but I'll come every year. I promise."

There wasn't much else she could say. She sat quietly in front of the graves for a while. A breeze stirred, lifting a single flower petal and laying it softly against her cheek. For a second, she wondered if they were sighing with her.

Justine stayed until noon. She shared a simple lunch with Kenelm before making her way back.

Halfway back, the sky suddenly darkened, and without warning, rain poured down in sheets. She tried to hail a ride, but the line on the app stretched into the hundreds.

There wasn't a soul in sight on the road—not even a single tree to shield her from the rain. She clenched her teeth and pushed forward through the storm.

Four hours later, she finally reached the city center. The glass windows of a restaurant reflected a drenched woman with hair plastered to her face. She looked lifeless, like she had crawled out of a gutter.

She was about to look away when something inside the restaurant caught her eye.

By sheer, bitter coincidence, Noah was seated inside with Gavin and Hazel, the three of them engaged in cheerful conversation. From the outside looking in, they appeared to be the perfect picture of a happy family.

And she, soaking wet on the other side of the glass, looked like a stray with nowhere to go.

Only then did it hit her—Noah hadn't called her once since he left that morning.

She pulled out her phone. The screen was waterlogged. Still, she stubbornly dialed his number.

Inside the restaurant, Noah glanced at his phone, his brows creasing with visible irritation before he promptly declined the call.

Justine stared at the screen as the call was abruptly cut off. She watched it return to the home screen, then fade to black. No matter how many times she pressed it, the phone stayed dead.

It was no different from Noah's heart—unmoved and unchanging no matter how much warmth she gave.

She stared at the useless device for a long time. Then, she pulled out the SIM card, tossed the phone into the nearest trash can, and began walking home with slow, unhurried steps.