"Who were you talking to?"

Serene stepped into the kitchen when Allen hadn't returned, finding him staring at his phone, lost in thought.

He snapped back to reality and replied calmly, "No one."

That night, as silence settled over the house, Allen lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Beside him, Serene's soft breathing barely stirred the air. Sleep eluded him completely.

---

The next morning, Serene frowned at the breakfast spread on the table.

"You know I don't like eggs benedict. Why did you make this today?"

Allen kept his eyes down, cutting into his food methodically.

"We're running low on groceries."

It wasn't true. The fridge was well-stocked with her usual breakfast items, but Allen was already preparing for his new life, one meal at a time.

Thankfully, Serene didn't question him further. She placed her phone on the table, checking it frequently, clearly anticipating a message.

He didn't need to ask who she was waiting to hear from.

Her phone buzzed, and she snatched it up immediately. Whatever Will had sent brought a rare smile to her usually composed face, her lips curving with genuine warmth.

Allen watched her for a moment before pulling out the divorce papers he'd prepared. Since signing that contract with her mother, he'd known this day would come. Finally, it would all be over.

"Serene, I want a divorce."

His voice was steady, as casual as discussing the weather.

Absorbed in her conversation with Will, Serene barely registered his words. "Okay," she mumbled absently.

Allen wasn't surprised. For five years, this detached indifference had been her default response to him. Now that Will was back, even her minimal attention had disappeared completely.

He turned to the final page and slid the document across the table with a pen. "Sign here," he said, indicating the line.

"Mm." She signed without looking, one hand still typing on her phone.

"There's a thirty-day waiting period," Allen said evenly. "After that, I'll be gone."

"Mm," she replied, standing to leave.

Watching her walk away, Allen called after her.

"Serene, did you hear what I just said?"

She turned back, looking confused.

"Wasn't it about the charity donation to the orphanage? The paperwork you mentioned last week?"

Allen laughed quietly to himself. The donation papers? She'd signed those a month ago. She hadn't heard a word he'd said.

But it didn't matter anymore.

Be happy with Will, Serene.

He managed a slight smile. "Never mind."

---

That afternoon, Allen drove behind the delivery truck to the orphanage, supervising the donation drop-off.

After everything was unloaded, he went to speak with the director in her office.

"I'm leaving for graduate school abroad," he told her.

The director, who had been like a mother to him, beamed. "Allen, that's wonderful! I remember how disappointed we all were when you turned down that opportunity years ago."

Her smile faded slightly. "But... what about Serene? Long-distance relationships are so difficult."

Allen gazed out the window at the children playing in the yard, his expression calm.

"It won't be long-distance. We're getting divorced."

The director froze before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I had my suspicions back then. A marriage can't last if only one person is invested. If she truly loved you, she would have visited the home with you at least once in all these years. This is probably for the best."

She reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently. "You deserve better, Allen."

Allen smiled as he returned her hug.

Yes, this was for the best.

After returning from the orphanage, Allen went straight upstairs to the walk-in closet and began packing his belongings. It wasn’t until he opened the drawers and closets that he realized how little he actually owned.

All he had were a few outfits gifted by Serene’s mother when they got married. In five years of marriage, his wife had never once thought to buy him a single piece of clothing.

Once his clothes were packed, Allen gathered all the gifts he had given Serene over the years and sold them to a recycling shop for scrap.

For every birthday, he had meticulously chosen gifts, hoping to make her happy, but she never spared them a glance. They had been tossed aside and left to gather dust.

As the truck carrying the discarded items drove away, Allen turned to head back to the villa when a car horn blared behind him.

He turned around and saw a sleek Maybach pull up in front of him. A woman in a red dress stepped out—it was Serene’s younger sister, Anne Foster.

Anne glanced at the departing truck and sneered. Then, turning her gaze to Allen, she looked him up and down with disdain.

“Typical of someone from a poor family—selling trash for cash.”

Allen didn’t even look at her. He turned and began walking away.

Anne’s smug expression vanished as her temper flared. She stormed after him and grabbed his arm.

“Allen!”

From the day Allen entered the Foster family, he had always been humble, trying to win their approval. Never once had he shown her such indifference.

Now, his cold attitude ignited a fury within her.

“Are you deaf? I’m talking to you!”

Allen calmly removed her hand, annoyance flickering in his eyes.

Anne had always despised him, believing someone of his status didn’t deserve to be part of her family. For the past five years, she had gone out of her way to make his life difficult—throwing out the breakfasts he made, stepping on the clothes he washed.

But with freedom in sight, he no longer felt the need to applease her.

Anne was about to snap at him again when a calculating smile spread across her face.

"Well, you might as well get used to selling things off. Haven't you heard? My sister's true love is back. Your little charade of playing husband is over."

As she spoke, another figure emerged from the car.

This was Allen's first glimpse of Will, the man who'd held Serene's heart all these years.

He had the kind of effortless grace that came from old money—golden hair, striking blue eyes, and an understated elegance that made his simple white button-down look like haute couture.

The years that had left Allen's marriage in shambles seemed to have only enhanced Will's charm. No wonder Serene had never let go.

Hearing Anne’s words, Will stepped forward and gently tugged her arm, his tone soft and warm. “Anne, don’t say that about Mr. Bennett. He’s still your brother-in-law.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Brother-in-law? Will, I already told you—my sister has always loved you. For years, she couldn’t get over you. She flew abroad every week just to see you and bought all those gifts to make you happy. Don’t you see how much she cares for you?”

Anne turned to Allen, her tone sharp and commanding. “What are you standing there for? Get Will’s luggage and bring it inside! My sister already agreed—he’s staying here.”

Allen glanced briefly at the suitcases on the ground, then ignored her and walked back into the villa without a word.

Anne stomped her feet in frustration, glaring after him. In the end, the driver carried the luggage inside.

Just as Anne was about to cause more trouble, Serene entered the villa, her steps hurried. When her eyes landed on Will sitting comfortably on the sofa, she visibly relaxed.

She turned to Allen and spoke casually, “Will’s place hasn’t been lived in for years. It needs renovation, so he’ll stay with us for a few days.”

Allen didn’t respond.

In the awkward silence that followed, Will stood up, looking uneasy. His voice was gentle, almost timid. “Serene, maybe I should go. After all, this is your home with Mr. Bennett, and he doesn’t seem very happy about this.”

Serene immediately reached out to stop him, her tone firm. “There’s no need for that. Allen’s always been understanding—he won’t be upset over something so trivial.”

Watching the scene unfold, Allen finally spoke, his lips curling into a faint smile.

“I’m not upset at all. Mr. Anderson, please make yourself comfortable here.”

After all, this house was bound to belong to Will sooner or later.

Worried that Will might really leave, Serene quickly directed the housekeeper to prepare the largest guest suite.

Anne couldn't resist shooting Allen a smug look. "Well? Why are you just standing there? Go make dinner. And remember—Will doesn't like spicy food, so keep it mild."

Despite having a full household staff, Allen had always been the one to cook. Serene was incredibly particular about her food; even meals from Michelin-starred restaurants didn't meet her standards. Only Allen's cooking was deemed acceptable—barely.

No matter how much effort he put into the meals, Serene would only pick at her food. When Anne joined them, she'd criticize every dish between bites.

But this time, Allen said something that left everyone stunned.

"I can't."

Serene turned to look at him, startled. In all their years together, he had never refused a request from her family. This was a first.

She was about to speak when Will's expressive eyes filled with guilt.

"This is my fault," he said softly. "I shouldn't have imposed. I'm just a guest—I can't expect Mr. Bennett to cook for me."

Will moved to leave, but Serene caught his arm.

"This isn't about you," she said firmly before turning back to Allen, her voice sharp. "Didn't you say you were fine with this? What's the problem?"

Allen calmly held up his hand, showing two bandaged fingers.

"I'm injured. I can't get them wet right now."

It was a lie. The contract with Mrs. Foster had ended, and he no longer felt obligated to play the dutiful husband. The bandages were just an excuse.

The room fell silent.

Allen had always handled the cooking, and the staff had already left for the day. Even if they called someone back, it was too late.

Anne's face twisted with annoyance. "If you're hurt, why didn't you mention it earlier? Are you trying to make us go hungry?"

She stepped forward, ready to berate him further, but Will intervened.

"Anne, please." He turned to Serene, his voice gentle. "Remember that Italian place near our old school? The one we used to go to after evening classes? Why don't we have dinner there?"

Serene's expression softened immediately. "Perfect. I'll drive us."

During the drive, Serene chatted with Will and Anne in the back seat, reminiscing about their school days. Will grew more animated with each memory, and even Anne joined in occasionally.

As their laughter filled the car, Will suddenly turned to Allen in the passenger seat, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry, Mr. Bennett. We didn't mean to exclude you—it's just that you weren't there for any of those memories."

Not just those memories, Allen thought. He wouldn't be part of their future either.

"It's fine," he murmured, closing his eyes.

Serene glanced at him briefly. Something about him seemed... different.

---

At the restaurant, Allen excused himself to the restroom.

Standing at the sink, he splashed cold water on his face and studied his reflection.

His features were refined, his complexion clear, but exhaustion haunted his eyes.

Five years of marriage. Will looked vibrant, full of life, while Allen carried nothing but weariness.

Just a little longer, he told himself.

Soon, he would be free.

---

When Allen returned to their private dining room, the others had already ordered.

"Make sure it's the light tomato sauce," Serene was telling the waiter. "Will's vegetarian, so we'll need extra sides. And no garlic."

Even after all these years, she remembered William's preferences perfectly.

Then, for the first time in five years, she turned to Allen. "What about you? Any allergies?"

Allen methodically unfolded his napkin. "Anything's fine. Just no shellfish."

As they ate, Serene barely touched her food. She was too busy ensuring William's plate stayed full.

Halfway through the meal, a heated argument erupted at the next table. The voices grew louder until someone suddenly stood up, their chair scraping across the floor.

The situation escalated when one of them, blind with rage, grabbed a pot of scalding sauce and hurled it at their companion.

The target ducked, but the steaming liquid flew straight toward their table.

In the chaos of screams and shouts, Serene instinctively threw herself in front of Will.

Allen, sitting across from them, had no time to move. He could only watch as the boiling sauce came straight at him.