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?"

Justine's expression turned cold. Noah really had a way of ruining the moment.

As Noah's footsteps echoed down the hallway, he reached the door to the walk-in closet. The moment he saw how empty it was inside, his sharp words were caught in his throat.

Then, he scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "Wow, this again? So now, you're pulling a new stunt? You got discharged without telling me. Was that on purpose? Trying to guilt-trip me?

"And now what? You're clearing out the house like you're staging some dramatic runaway? What are you, five? I gave you a chance. Can you stop acting like a child for once?"

Justine hadn't said or done anything, yet somehow, she was already being scolded. She stared at Noah, her voice calm and even. "Are you done?"

Those three words shut Noah up completely. He looked at her in disbelief, suddenly realizing she wasn't the same woman anymore.

She wasn't asking about Hazel after he carried her out of the hospital. In fact, she hadn't said a word. That was unlike her.

Justine used to ask about every woman who got near him. She had even fought with him over Hazel more than once.

Noah wondered why she had suddenly become so calm. This had to be another manipulative act.

His expression twisted with disgust as he snapped, "You've changed, Justine! You used to be annoying, sure, but at least you had some charm. Now, there's nothing left."

Justine held his gaze, her tone even as she asked, "By charm, do you mean the way I used to tolerate all your cheating?"

"So, you're still mad? It's been over a week. Are you seriously holding a grudge for this long?" Noah's voice lifted like he had caught her red-handed. He sounded almost triumphant.

But Justine didn't respond. She just turned away and continued organizing her design sketches.

Noah thought he had hit a nerve and smirked, thinking he still had control. He scoffed. "Fine. Stay mad. I'm not coming back here for the next few days."

And he meant it. He didn't return home for an entire week.

Justine enjoyed the peace. She took her time, clearing out every last thing that belonged to her.

A few days later, the once-full home was reduced to a single couch and a hanging chair. Ironically, both were identical to the ones Hazel had posted online in the past.

Justine hadn't bothered buying a new phone after her old one broke. She figured she could make it through the next few days without one and then start over completely.

She boxed up some small items and took them to a charity sale. To avoid anyone she knew, she deliberately chose parks far away from her neighborhood.

Business was doing well—until she spotted three very familiar silhouettes heading her way.

Hazel's voice dripped with feigned surprise. "Justine? What are you doing out here? Selling... stuff?"

Noah had been frowning, already assuming Justine was pulling some new stunt. But when his eyes landed on the items displayed at her stall, his expression shifted instantly. His pupils constricted as he snapped, "Justine, these are our things! You're seriously selling them?"

Gavin recognized a few items too. He rushed forward and reached out. "That's my model car!"

Before he could grab it, Justine calmly pressed down on his hand and said with a sweet smile, "Let me correct you. That's not your model car. It's the one I bought. This kaleidoscope? A souvenir I paid for. This diamond-studded frame? Also mine."

She listed off the things effortlessly, then looked at Noah. Her tone turned soft, almost sounding amused. "All of these were things you both used to mock, calling my taste tacky. So, why can't I sell them at a charity sale?"

Noah stared at her like she was a stranger. Then, his eyes caught sight of a large empty frame on the side. His breath hitched. "This was for our wedding photo. Where is it?"

Justine followed his gaze, then blinked as if she was genuinely surprised. "Was it? I'm pretty sure it's always been empty."

"Justine, don't push it!" Noah snapped.

Hazel noticed Noah's attention was completely on Justine, and it irritated her. She coyly looped her arm through his on purpose and said sweetly, "Justine, don't get the wrong idea. Noah's just trying to keep the marriage from falling apart."

Justine almost admired her shamelessness. She didn't know how someone could play the mistress and still sound so righteous.

"A man who truly doesn’t want his marriage to fall apart wouldn't let another woman hold his arm right in front of his wife."

Her words landed hard. As if he had been stung, Noah instantly pulled his arm away from Hazel.

But Justine had already started packing up her things. She gave the two of them a cold, disdainful glance. "Thanks to you both, you've ruined all my business for today. Enjoy your little romantic stroll. I'll go find somewhere else to sell these."