After several days of silent treatment, it was always Steven who relented first, writing an apology letter to end their arguments. At the time, Gianna had felt heartbroken. But now, it struck her that such a method could still work. If she could coax him into signing another "apology letter," it might be her way out.

“I’ll earn my promotions with my own abilities—I won’t rely on you,” Gianna said with playful defiance.

Steven chuckled, thinking she was just being stubborn.

“Good, that’ll save me some trouble. But don’t come crying to me when no one recognizes your talent. You might end up begging for my help,” he teased as he lay down and pulled the blanket over himself.

Gianna’s lips tightened. Beneath his words, she heard disdain and indifference.

With a determined tone, she countered, “I won’t beg you. In fact, I want you to sign a consent letter for me.”

“A consent letter? What kind?”

She stood, retrieved a piece of paper, and carefully wrote the following:

[From this point forward, Gianna Wilson and Steven Thompson are to maintain strict boundaries. Gianna takes full responsibility for her actions and will not hold any person or institution accountable. Under no circumstances will her matters implicate anyone else. All consequences shall be borne by Gianna alone. Signed: Steven Thompson.]

Placing the letter and a pen in front of him, Gianna tried to steady her trembling hands, which had become clammy with sweat.

“Sign it.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. Something about Gianna’s behavior today felt off—subtly out of place, though not enough to raise clear alarms.

“Steven, are you going back on your word? Or are you too scared to sign it? Afraid you’ll secretly interfere behind my back?”

Her tone was intentionally provocative, poking at his pride. She knew all too well that Steven, with his overbearing masculinity, couldn’t stand such taunts.

Predictably, his expression darkened. He gave her a cold, mocking stare.

“Did you forget who brought you into this hospital in the first place? With your mediocre skills, you’d still be stuck in some rural clinic treating impoverished villagers if it weren’t for me.”

His words stabbed her like a shard of glass lodged in her throat, painful and impossible to swallow.

Gianna gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stay composed.

“Then sign it, Steven. Let’s see if I ever need your help.”

Her defiant tone finally disarmed his lingering suspicions. With a derisive snort, he retorted, “Fine, let’s see how far your stubbornness gets you.”

He grabbed the pen and signed his name with a flourish.

Watching him complete the signature, Gianna felt an immense weight lift off her chest. She carefully folded the letter and tucked it into her pocket like a priceless treasure.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask for your help,” she murmured silently to herself.

This would be the last tie binding her to Steven, the final step toward escaping their soured relationship.

---

The next morning, Gianna woke up early. With the consent letter in hand, she felt a new sense of freedom and ease.

As she prepared to leave for work, she walked to Steven’s car as usual, expecting to take her usual seat in the passenger side.

But as the window rolled down, a familiar face greeted her with a smug smile.

“Gianna, sorry about this. I get carsick and can only sit in the front,” Chloe said with feigned innocence, her tone playful.

Gianna froze for a moment.

She knew Chloe didn’t get carsick—she had been in the same car with her countless times.

In reality, it was Gianna herself who often struggled with motion sickness, which was why she always took the front seat.

But today, Chloe had taken her place, as if intentionally claiming her territory.

Ever since Chloe appeared, the passenger seat of the car had never been hers again.

Until, in an increasingly impatient tone, Steven's voice broke through the silence.

"Are you getting in or not? If not, just take a cab, don’t keep dawdling."

Gianna silently released the handle of the car door and took two steps back.

"You guys go ahead," she said, "I just remembered I left something at home."

She turned and walked away, her steps deliberate.

It wasn’t until the roar of the Audi A8 engine faded into the distance that Gianna turned back around.

The parking lot was empty, save for the rising dust and two tears that fell silently from her eyes.

This was the first time Gianna had been late to work since she started at the hospital.

"Gianna, how’s your foot? Is it feeling better? How come you’re at work today?"

"Doctor Thompson really doesn't have a heart, does he? He didn’t let you rest for a few more days?"

Her colleagues’ concern was genuine, but Gianna only smiled and responded in kind.

But Steven’s mind was no longer on her. He had long since disappeared with Chloe, leaving her to fend for herself.

At that moment, Gianna felt an overwhelming urge to escape this city.

Without a second thought, she headed straight for the hospital director’s office.

As soon as she presented the consent letter, the director immediately signed her application for the "Médecins Sans Frontières" program without hesitation.

"Dr. Wilson, I’ll be sure to congratulate you in advance. I hope you return safely."

Gianna nodded heavily, her heart finally feeling lighter.

After leaving the office, she went straight to buy a plane ticket and then returned home to pack.

Her three years with Steven hadn’t left her with much. There was so little she could take with her, and the tiny suitcase she packed was barely filled. It only contained a few thin garments.

"Gianna, why are you back so early today?"

As Gianna placed her suitcase by the living room door, she heard the sound of the door opening.

It was Steven and Chloe, Chloe carrying several bags of gifts, all bought by Steven for her.

"Gianna I didn’t expect you to be home. I forgot to bring you a gift," Chloe said with an apologetic smile.

Steven, standing next to her, looked somewhat awkward.

He cleared his throat before speaking. "Gianna, the season's changing. Let’s go shopping tomorrow and buy you a few new clothes."

Gianna smiled and declined. She had a flight the next day. She couldn’t let such trivial matters delay her chance to leave.

"No need," she said, "As long as you two are happy, don’t worry about me." Her dismissal made Steven frown, and he snorted in annoyance.

He decided that from now on, he would ignore Gianna until she came crawling back to him. However, he didn’t realize this was exactly what Gianna wanted.

Even the next day at work, Gianna didn’t say a word to him.

In the afternoon, Dr. Shaw from her department approached Steven.

"Dr. Thompson, do you know what happened to Dr. Wilson? She hasn’t come to the hospital all day. Have you heard from her?"

Steven, who had been on the phone with Chloe, was irritated by the interruption.

He waved his hand dismissively. "She’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Where she goes, I have no idea. She doesn’t like me to control her, so I can’t do anything about it."

Whenever Steven spoke of Gianna, his tone became more biting.

He clenched his teeth, seething with anger. Last night, she dared to ignore him, to use the silent treatment against him. Not a single word from her all night.

"Well, Dr. Thompson, don’t you think you should call Dr. Wilson? See if you can get in touch with her?" Dr. Shaw suggested.