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.

One week later, their divorce was finalized.

Allen was finally free to leave. As he packed his belongings, a delivery arrived—a tailored suit from Serene's assistant with instructions to attend a gala at the Foster estate.

Allen stared at the suit and laughed softly. Though they were legally divorced, Serene seemed oblivious, still treating him as her husband.

He considered declining but remembered Mrs. Foster's years of kindness—and the fact that he still needed her help with his travel documents. Reluctantly, he put on the suit and went.

---

The ballroom sparkled with life. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd, while the gentle clink of champagne glasses mixed with the murmur of conversation.

At the center of attention, Will stood surrounded by admiring friends, all raising their glasses in celebration.

"Will, Ms. Foster is clearly still in love with you."

"That ring you're wearing? It's a one-of-a-kind piece from Sotheby's. They say it symbolizes eternal love. Some mystery buyer paid a fortune for it—now we know it was Ms. Foster!"

"She never got over you. Remember in college? She used to walk you to every class. All those little gifts that kept appearing in your locker? That was her. And that time you two fought and wouldn't speak to her? She was desperate to make things right. She came to me for help once—looked like she hadn't slept in days. You not talking to her was like her world had ended."

"Will, no one loves you like Ms. Foster does. When you got married abroad, she was heartbroken. Then, hearing you were unhappy, she flew overseas every week just to check on you and leave those thoughtful gifts. Now that you're divorced, and let's be honest—she never seemed invested in her marriage anyway—why don't you two finally get together?"

"Yes! Get together! Get together!"

The chant grew louder as others joined in.

Allen stood in a quiet corner, listening to stories of how deeply his wife had loved another man.

---

"Allen."

A voice behind him broke through his thoughts.

He turned to see Mrs. Foster and started to say "Mom," but caught himself and switched to a formal, "Ma'am."

Mrs. Foster sighed but said nothing. She handed him a folder of travel documents.

"I've arranged everything for your trip abroad. Your program starts soon, so I've booked your flight—it leaves in three hours. Is there anything else you need?"

Allen looked at the papers in his hands, trembling slightly with relief. The prospect of freedom, of starting fresh, overwhelmed him.

Taking a steadying breath, he placed the documents in his bag and shook his head.

"Thank you, ma'am. You've done more than enough."

After a pause, he added quietly, "Just one small favor. If Serene ever learns the truth and asks about me, please tell her you don't know where I am."

He had no desire to see Serene ever again.

Mrs. Foster looked surprised. "You mean you haven't told her you're leaving?"

What was there to tell? That he'd approached her deliberately years ago? That his unwavering devotion for five years wasn't love but obligation, following Mrs. Foster's plan to help Serene move on from Will? That he was leaving forever?

Even if he explained, what difference would it make? Her "true love" was back—his absence would mean nothing.

Allen smiled faintly. "There's no need. I'd rather leave quietly and avoid any drama."

"What do you mean, leave?"

The familiar voice cut through their conversation.

Allen turned to find Serene standing behind them, her dark eyes fixed on his. His heart jumped as he tried to gauge how much she might have overheard.

Mrs. Foster quickly intervened. "It's nothing. What brings you over here?"

Serene didn't push the issue. Her eyes moved to the cake on the nearby table. "Mom, it's time to cut the cake."

Mrs. Foster rubbed her temples and waved dismissively. "I'm not feeling well. You and Allen can do it."

With that, she let the staff help her upstairs, leaving them alone.

Serene turned to Allen, extending her hand. "Come on. Let's cut the cake."

Allen shook his head, raising his bandaged hand.

"I can't. My hand hasn't healed. Ask Will to do it.”

Surprise flickered across her face, as if his suggestion made no sense. Something felt off-balance.

"Why would I ask him?"

Now Allen was confused.

Why? Hadn't she always chosen Will? She'd flown across the world countless times just to see him. Now, when Allen was stepping aside, why did she look so bewildered?

He managed a slight smile. "You two are close. It's just cutting a cake—no big deal."

Seeing his calm expression, devoid of any anger, she hesitated but didn't argue. She walked to Will, leaned close, and whispered something.

Will's face flushed, but he nodded and took her hand as they stepped onto the stage together.

Piano music filled the room as they stood side by side, hands joined on the knife. The intimate scene looked less like a birthday celebration and more like a wedding.

---

As the night progressed, the older guests departed, leaving the younger crowd—those who had grown up with Serene and Will and knew their history.

Seeing them together, the crowd erupted in applause and started chanting.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Will's face turned crimson, and Serene's cheeks flushed pink. Though she didn't kiss him, she made no move to stop the chanting.

Allen remained unmoved. He checked his phone, calculating his departure time.

With his flight in three hours, he needed to leave now.

But to everyone watching, his quiet demeanor looked like a broken heart.

Soon, Anne sauntered over with her socialite friends, wearing mocking smiles.

They quickly surrounded Allen.

Anne smirked. "What does it matter that you've been married to my sister all these years? Here you are, watching her lovey dovey with Will."

She crossed her arms, voice dripping with contempt. "I've told you before—my sister loves Will. You were just a distraction to help her get over him. If you had any dignity, you'd have left by now. How can you keep clinging to her like this?"

Allen had no interest in their games. He needed to finish packing and leave quietly. Without a word, he turned away.

But the group persisted.

"What, trying to be Cinderfella? Keep dreaming!"

"If Will hadn't gone abroad, do you think someone like you would ever have married into the Foster family?"

"Know your place!"

"Do yourself a favor and leave with some dignity."

Their taunts grew crueler as they started shoving him.

"Nothing to say?"

"Don't you dare ignore us!"

One of them, drunk and angry, pushed him hard.

CRASH!

Allen stumbled backward into a champagne tower. Glass shattered everywhere. Champagne mixed with blood from his cuts, creating a shocking scene that stopped everyone in their tracks.

The ballroom fell silent.

On stage, Serene's eyes widened in horror. She immediately dropped Will's hand and rushed to Allen's side.

She knelt beside him, face tight with anger as she called for their private doctor. Her sharp gaze swept the crowd.

"Who did this?!"

No one spoke.

Before she could press further, a security guard hurried over. "Ms. Foster, Mr. Anderson is in severe pain. You need to come quickly!"

Serene frowned, torn. "Is it serious?"

"He's doubled over in pain."

For the first time, Serene hesitated. She glanced at Allen, uncertainty clouding her face.

"Allen, I..."

Allen knew what was coming. He struggled to sit up, his expression distant.

"I understand. He's sensitive to pain, and you're used to taking care of him."

His calm words left her speechless.

Allen pulled himself up, swaying slightly. "Go to him. Have the doctor see him first. I'll manage."

Something about his response unsettled Serene.

He'd always been accommodating, but this calm felt different—too detached, as if he'd already left her world entirely.

It wasn't like him. He used to look at her like she was his everything. When had that changed?

Will's pained cry echoed from across the room.

The conflict vanished from Serene's face. With a quick glance at Allen, she said, "I'll check on you later. I'll make it up to you."

Without waiting for his response, she hurried to Will, murmuring comforting words.

Allen watched her go, a bitter smile touching his lips.

Anne and her friends mistook his expression for heartbreak.

"See?" Anne sneered. "Thought playing victim would win her sympathy? She still chose Will."

"If you have any self-respect, you'll leave the Foster family voluntarily."

Ignoring them, Allen asked a staff member for an empty room to clean and bandage his wounds. After changing into fresh clothes, he limped away from the gala.

---

Back home, Allen finished packing and left the signed divorce papers on the table.

Just as he opened the door to leave, he found Anne standing there with medicine in hand.

She scowled. "Where are you going? My sister sent these for you. I don't know why she's wasting time on you when she should be with Will. She's been so worried, she made me track you down!"

"Give them to Will," Allen said quietly, moving past her.

Only when she noticed his suitcase did Anne's expression change. She grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Allen's voice was steady, his eyes empty. "I'm leaving. Your sister loves Will, and you've always wanted him as your brother-in-law. I'm giving you what you want."

Anne stared at him, shocked. Everyone knew how devoted Allen was to Serene. How could he just walk away?

Her voice shook. "You're bluffing. You love my sister too much to leave. You're just trying to make her feel guilty. Well, it won't work."

Allen met her gaze calmly. "The divorce papers are on the table if you don't believe me. Unless... you've changed your mind about wanting me gone?"

Anne dropped his arm, face flushing. "As if! I can't wait for you to leave. When you're gone, I'll throw a party! My sister will be so much happier."

Her words rang hollow, but Allen didn't linger. "Congratulations, then," he said softly, walking out.

Anne watched him go, an unfamiliar anxiety growing in her chest. For the first time, she felt like she was losing control.

"Allen!" she called after him. "Where are you going? Aren't you going to tell my sister?"

Allen paused, glancing back at her and the house behind her.

For five years, he'd played the perfect husband, sacrificing his dreams and identity for Serene. He'd endured humiliation and neglect, all to repay a debt.

Now that chapter was over. Freedom beckoned.

For the first time in years, Allen smiled—genuinely, freely.

"I'm going to live a life that's truly mine," he said.

With a wave, he walked into the night, moonlight illuminating his path.

The Fosters and Serene were now just memories in a closed book.

Goodbye, Foster family.

Goodbye, Serene.

Carrying his suitcase, Allen disappeared into the night, finally free.