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.

At 10:00 pm, Justine was curled beneath the covers, wrapped in layer after layer. Even so, she was unable to stop the creeping chill that climbed up her limbs. Her head throbbed with fever. Heat and chills rolled through her body in waves, leaving her dazed and shivering.

At some point, she passed out. She didn't know when she fell asleep, and she wasn't sure when she woke up.

Eventually, she stumbled out of bed and tried to pour herself some water. But her hand gave out. The kettle slipped from her grasp and clattered on the floor, sending scalding water splashing across her feet and legs.

The pain jolted her into momentary alertness.

Instinctively, she turned toward the bathroom and fumbled to turn on the cold water, but as soon as she opened the tap, the world spun violently. Her body gave out, and she collapsed into the tub.

The last thought that flickered through her foggy mind was, "Is this really how it ends?"

But fate wasn't quite ready to let go of Justine. She woke up in a hospital bed, dazed and blinking against the sterile white lights. There was a brief surge of relief—she was alive.

But the moment of grace was short-lived. Because the first thing she saw was Noah standing in the doorway, his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with fury. He stormed toward her without a word.

Without a glance at her pale face, he grabbed her by the collar and snapped, "What the hell is wrong with you? What are you doing? You think faking a breakdown is going to win you some pity now?"

Justine coughed violently. She had only just regained consciousness, and her fever hadn't broken. His grip on her sent her into a coughing fit so violent her lips turned pale and the rims of her eyes reddened.

But Noah only saw what he wanted to see and barked, "Don't pull this crap on me. You might've fooled my parents back then, but I see right through you."

When her coughing finally eased, Justine shoved his hand away. Her voice was low and hoarse, each word deliberate. "I'm not looking for pity. I walked four hours in a downpour yesterday, from the graveyard to the city. I was exhausted and burning up. That's why I collapsed. If I had a choice, I'd rather your attention never land on me again."

She had already suffered enough because of him.

Noah froze. His hand fell away, and something flickered in his eyes. "You… You walked back?"

She thought, "What does it matter now?"

Justine pulled her gown back into place and lay down again, pulling the blanket up to her chin.

At that moment, Gavin burst into the ward, his voice sharp with irritation. "Dad! Why are you still talking to this freak? Ms. Gilbert's been waiting forever!"

He glared at Justine like she was some filthy intruder ruining their perfect little family. "You couldn't get a ride? What, are you too dumb to use a phone? You're faking it. I've seen the characters on TV dramas do this exact thing. You're disgusting."

Noah instinctively felt that Gavin had gone too far, but instead of facing the guilt gnawing at his conscience, he leaned into his son's version of the truth. With a scoff, he said, "Justine, I really underestimated you."

From the hallway, Hazel appeared. She leaned weakly against the doorframe and whispered breathily, "Noah, maybe I should just get a cab and head home... Justine doesn't look good."

As she spoke, her body gave a theatrical sway, like she was about to faint right then and there.

Noah rushed forward and caught her just before she collapsed, his expression full of concern. "If you're dizzy, just sit down and wait for me. I just came to check on her. I won't stay long."

Justine let out a soft laugh. He hadn't even come to the hospital specifically for her.

Hazel was still playing her act. "Really, I'm fine. You should stay here and take care of Justine instead—"

She suddenly yelped. Noah had scooped her up without warning. As he carried her out, he looked back and tossed a cold remark over his shoulder. "Don't waste your time."

Gavin trailed behind them, pulling faces at Justine like she was some kind of joke.

A young nurse, Madge Middleton, walked in to change Justine's bandages.

With a touch of admiration, she smiled and said, "They seem really close. Was that your brother and his wife?"

Justine replied flatly, "That was my husband, my son, and his first love."

Madge fell silent for a beat, then abruptly changed her tone, her voice thick with indignation. "God, no wonder that woman was acting so dramatic. She came in perfectly fine but demanded a full-body scan like she was barely breathing. She put on a whole show for nothing…"

Madge's abrupt change made Justine chuckle softly, and for the first time in nearly a year, her smile felt real.

Thankfully, her injuries weren't serious. The hospital kept her for observation for a week before discharging her.

No one came to pick her up.

Justine stepped outside and looked up at the sky, breathing in the clean air and feeling the breeze on her face. For the first time in a long while, she felt light and free. She walked alone down the tree-lined avenue. Her steps quickened. Then, she broke into a run.

So, this was what it felt like to let go of every emotional burden. This was freedom.

When she got home and opened the door, the electric kettle was still on the floor where it had fallen—proof of just how abruptly she had been taken to the hospital. And proof that Noah hadn't set foot back in the house once.

If it weren't for the neighbor downstairs calling emergency services when she collapsed, she might have died right at home.

She didn't feel anything.

She went to the walk-in closet and started packing up all the clothes and plush toys she had bought but never used. Their tags were still on. She sorted her things—new clothes, toys, unused kitchen appliances—into three large boxes.

After talking to the neighbor, who was more than willing to accept them, she dropped everything off.

Now, the closet was mostly empty. Just one winter coat and a few spare changes of clothes remained. She scanned the room, then opened a hidden drawer and pulled out a folder of jewelry design sketches.

Before marrying Noah, she was a respected jewelry designer, but she gave up on all of it for him. When it was time to leave, she would only take one thing with her—her dreams.

She was still packing when Noah's voice rang from the front door. "Justine?"