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.

"Ah!"

The scalding sauce drenched Allen instantly, turning his skin an angry red. Blisters erupted across his arms as searing pain shot through his body, leaving him speechless with agony.

"Allen!"

Serene released Will and rushed to Allen, showing rare concern. "Are you okay? We need to get you to the hospital!"

Allen looked up at her, the pain overwhelming, unable to form words.

"Oh God! Will, you're hurt!"

At this, Serene's attention snapped to Will. She hurried to his side, even more distressed than before. Though only a few drops had hit his arm, she acted as if he'd suffered a critical injury.

Will pulled away, his eyes pained as he shook his head. "I'm fine. Mr. Bennett needs medical attention more urgently."

"Don't be ridiculous! You've always been sensitive to pain. Serene, what are you waiting for? Get Will to the emergency room!" Anne glared at the other table. "What is wrong with you people? Take your fight outside! You've hurt Will, and my sister would definitely sue all of you!”

Will winced but insisted, "It's nothing, really. Please, help Mr. Bennett—he's badly hurt."

But his words only heightened Serene's panic. Ignoring Allen's severely burned arms, she helped Will up and rushed toward the door.

At the threshold, she paused briefly, throwing Allen a guilty glance. "Will has sensitive skin. The hospital's just down the street—you can grab a taxi."

Allen watched them disappear, struggling to breathe through the pain but managing to stay standing.

A sympathetic server hurried over with a first aid kit and helped treat his burns. After taking some pain medication, Allen felt well enough to speak again.

The restaurant lent him clean clothes, and he carefully made his way outside to hail a cab.

---

At the hospital, the doctor pressed cotton swabs against his blisters, explaining the treatment. "Apply this antibiotic cream daily, and it shouldn't leave any scars."

Allen clenched his jaw against the pain, eyes squeezed shut.

Nearby, two nurses wheeled a cart past, chatting.

"Did you hear? Ms. Foster reserved the entire VIP wing for Mr. Anderson. Just a few drops of sauce, and she called in every specialist in the city."

"I know, right? His burn's so minor it would've healed on its own. Wish I had someone that devoted to me."

"Ha, keep dreaming. A woman like that is one in a million."

---

One in a million?

Allen laughed bitterly. A wife who abandons her severely injured husband to tend to someone else's minor burn was indeed unique.

After getting bandaged, he thanked the doctor and left. Just outside the hospital, his phone buzzed with an email.

It was from the art program he'd applied to abroad, confirming his acceptance and requesting a portfolio submission.

For the first time in five years, Allen picked up his paintbrushes again.

---

After buying art supplies, he avoided the Foster estate and headed to Lake Vista Mountain instead.

The view was breathtaking—a pristine lake nestled between rolling hills, its surface mirror-smooth, perfectly reflecting the surrounding peaks.

Taking a deep breath, Allen felt years of tension melt away. The weight of his confined life lifted, replaced by a surge of long-forgotten freedom.

Inspiration flowing, he began to paint. His brush moved across the canvas as the landscape took shape before him.

For three days, he lost himself in the solitude, accompanied only by birdsong and rustling leaves.

---

When he finally descended to ship his painting to the university, Allen turned his phone back on.

The screen lit up with dozens of missed calls and messages, all from Serene.

This was unprecedented.

Usually, Allen was the one calling and texting, only to be ignored. Serene had never actively reached out to him, let alone repeatedly.

While he stared at his phone in disbelief, Anne's number appeared. He answered, and her sharp voice cut through.

"Allen Bennett, where the hell have you been? Do you know my sister's been going crazy looking for you? Don't think you can use this disappearing act to make her care. Get real! The Foster family's future belongs with Will!"

She hung up before he could respond.

He frowned at his phone, confused.

Serene frantically searching for him?

What could she possibly want now?

Allen considered calling Anne back, but the 108 missed calls from Serene told their own story. Whatever it was, she was desperate.

Allen returned home, sketchbook in hand, still puzzling over Serene's calls.

The moment he stepped out of his car, the household staff rushed to greet him. Relief flooded their faces; some looked on the verge of tears.

"Sir! Thank God you're back! Everything's been chaos here. Ms. Foster hasn't been satisfied with anything we've done. She's been in a terrible mood for days..."

Allen understood then.

It wasn't that they couldn't manage; they'd simply grown dependent on his oversight.

But they would have to adjust. He was leaving soon, and they'd need to learn to cope without him.

After a few reassuring words to the staff, Allen entered the darkened house. Not a single light was on.

Serene sat alone on the sofa, moonlight streaming through the windows casting sharp shadows across her features.

She looked up at his footsteps, studying him. "Where have you been?" Her voice held an edge.

Allen shrugged off his coat. "In the mountains, finding inspiration."

She frowned. "Since when are you interested in painting?"

He'd always been top of his class in fine arts. If not for his obligation to the Fosters, he would have studied abroad years ago and made a name for himself as an artist.

But he didn't bother explaining. He simply poured himself water and took a sip. "Just felt like it."

Serene massaged her temples. "About that night at the restaurant—I didn't mean to abandon you. It's just that Will's always been sensitive to pain. Even a small cut affects him for days. We grew up together, and I'm used to taking care of him. That's why I rushed him to the hospital first."

She glanced at him reproachfully. "You didn't object at the time. So why disappear like that? Will's place is ready now, and he's moved out. Don't make such a big deal over small things."

Her tone carried subtle blame—as if his supposed overreaction had forced Will to move out earlier than planned.

Allen didn't care anymore. He gave a noncommittal response, set down his glass, and headed for the stairs.

"Allen!"

He turned back to face her.

"I'm hungry. Make me some pasta?"

Allen held up his bandaged hand. "Did you forget? I'm injured."

Serene froze, caught off guard.

Without waiting for her response, he continued upstairs.

---

The next morning, as Allen left his room, Serene approached him holding an expensive jewelry box.

He looked at her questioningly.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "About that night... I was preoccupied with Will and didn't check on you. This is to make up for it."

Inside the box was an emerald ring. Allen's expression flickered with complex emotions.

Five years. Five long years.

This was the first gift she'd ever given him.

But it wasn't a gesture of affection—it was compensation. Payment for neglecting him while tending to her "true love."

The ring reminded him of all the carefully chosen gifts for Will waiting in his study. Bitterness welled up inside him, but he pushed it down.

A gift he'd never expected was now something he no longer wanted.

When he didn't take the box, Serene assumed he disliked it.

"I've been busy with Will's situation lately, so I had my assistant bid on the most expensive piece at auction. If you don't like it—"

Anne's voice cut through from the doorway.

"Will! See how much my sister loves you? You shouldn't have moved out. At least visit her more often!"

Anne breezed in, pulling Will behind her. Spotting the ring in Serene's hand, her eyes lit up.

"Oh my God, Serene! Will just mentioned how much he loved this ring, and you bought it for him!"

Anne turned to Will admiringly.

Will blushed and looked away.

Serene hesitated, glancing between the ring and Will.

Before she could decide, Allen took the box and handed it to Will.

"If it's meant for him, he should have it."

With that simple statement, Allen made the choice for her, erasing her indecision.

For the first time, Serene didn't immediately focus on Will. Instead, her gaze lingered on Allen.

Something about his calm demeanor unsettled her.

He seemed different now, though she couldn't quite explain how.