My phone rang with a text notification. It was from Delilah.

"Your husband is my greatest support," she texted.

Attached was a photo of Tristan massaging her ankle and kissing the top of her foot.

My nose tingled, and as I turned off the screen, my eyes caught the sight of Delilah's pale wrist. It was adorned with an emerald bracelet.

This bracelet, unique and blessed, was something my mother had gone to great lengths to obtain—she spent three days and nights in deep reflection and devotion, hoping for my safety and happiness.

I used to think I was loved, but then, I understood all my pain came from him.

A bitter smile crept onto my lips, and my tears streamed down like a broken faucet.

Tristan was my beacon of hope at the start of my miserable life three years ago. After our marriage, I gifted the emerald bracelet to him in hopes of blessing him with a smooth-sailing life.

Yet, the bracelet disappeared in less than a week.

When I confronted him, he smiled and explained that he had put it away in a safe, not wanting to tarnish it from daily wear.

With the photo of proof before my eyes, I realized that what had once been a gift to him was now regifted to his unrequited love.

To reclaim the only item my mother had left for me, I tapped the dial button with my trembling finger.

Surprisingly, Tristan promptly answered my call.

I recalled that whenever he accompanied me for meals, shopping, or work, a special ringtone would always ring at the perfect moment. He would instantly answer, and it was always followed with some excuse that seemed just right to brush me off.

He must've had a unique ringtone for me, too.

"Hey, Tia. I'm back at the company to handle some stuff. Have you missed me already? I didn't know you were this clingy."

I stayed quiet momentarily and didn't call out his lies. Instead, I asked, "Is the emerald bracelet still with you, Tristan?"

There was a brief pause in his breathing, and after a moment, he spoke awkwardly. "Oh, it's locked away in the drawer in my study. Why did you ask?

"Right—it'll be our third anniversary in a few days. Are you planning a surprise for me, honey?"

"I… want to wear it to visit Mom. Could you come with?" I asked tentatively.

After a momentary daze, he replied, "Sure. We'll find time and visit your mother."

Was that so? Would I really see her again?

I switched off my phone, completed the discharge procedures, and went home. As I approached the study, the scent of jasmine greeted me.

Tristan's study was a place he never allowed me to enter, and he never liked wearing perfume. The scent probably belonged to Delilah.

Someone else had already taken over a place I never stepped into.

I pushed open the door and froze when I saw the photo on the desk.

Delilah was smiling brightly, lying in Tristan's arms. His eyes were filled with a genuine smile I had never seen before. And yet, there wasn't a single photo of us together.

I had once hoped to take wedding pictures with him, but he said he was afraid I would face even more gossip, so he chose to marry me in secret and kept everything simple.

As I looked back on it, it was clear he never intended to make our relationship public.

At that moment, the sound of the door opening came from the living room. I turned around and saw Tristan rush into the study, his face filled with panic.

He exhaled sharply as he looked at a certain spot and then fixed his gaze on me. "When did I say you could enter? Get out of here."

"Lethia, you know Tristan hates it the most when someone enters his study without permission. Shouldn't you better as his wife?" Delilah jeered.

Delilah crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, mocking me with her sarcastic gaze.

I simply glanced at her without refuting. As his wife, I was forbidden from entering his study, yet Delilah could freely do so.

Tristan walked out of the study. He looked ready to say something, but then he noticed I was upset. Instantly, he came to my side and said, "I was harsh earlier. Here, I bought you supper. Come join us."

As I looked at the bag of obvious leftovers, I furrowed my brows and snickered. "I don't want to eat anything that came out of nowhere."

His expression shifted before he inched closer. "Lila queued for a long time just to get you this. Can you be less aggressive?

"Anyway, she sprained her ankle today. It wouldn't be safe for her to be outside alone, so I took her in for the night. Don't be mad, okay?"

I didn't want to say anything else and simply nodded as a response. I rose to my feet and prepared to leave, but he suddenly wore a darkened expression and tugged at my wrist.

With a low voice, he warned, "What kind of tantrum are you throwing right now? She's your sister, no matter what. Even if she'd taken your ex-fiancé from you, you only have yourself to blame. Why pull a long face at her?"

When I heard those words, I was too stunned to react. I knew he didn't love me, but I didn't expect he wanted me to be nice to my stepsister and blamed me for what happened three years ago.

I delivered a harsh slap across his face, intending to leave.

"Where are you going? Lila has something to discuss with you."

Tristan blocked me in my path, his eyes oozing with adoration when he looked at Delilah. His gaze conveyed anger when he turned to me, but he suppressed it because she had a favor to ask.

He had never treated me like this before.

Once, when I needed help from someone, he deliberately sabotaged my collaboration with them because of some past grudge. As a result, I ended up paying a hefty penalty for breaching the contract.

He claimed he couldn't stand that person and told me not to work with them. Now that he felt the same hostility toward me, he was surprisingly willing to tolerate it for Delilah's sake.

"Lethia, you're a game designer, too. Soon, I'll be joining a contest at my new company, and I'll need you to teach me some theoretical knowledge. I appreciate your help in advance," Delilah said.

After she finished speaking, Tristan didn't wait for me to mention that the car accident had caused me to lose my memories of game design and immediately pulled me back into the study.

"Tia, I was wrong earlier. Let me apologize to you. Now, will you please teach Lila everything you know?"

He then flung my hand away and pinched Delilah's cheek. "Go on in. She won't hurt you with me around."

A wave of helplessness washed over me as I took in his worried expression.

After Delilah playfully cast him outside the door, she turned to me and sarcastically said, "I know you can't teach me anything. It must feel awful to have lost your memories, right?"

As she spoke, she skilfully switched on Tristan's laptop, which he never let me touch. "I bet you didn't know you lost your memories because Tristan wanted me to win first place in the competition.

"He removed your memories without batting an eye, just so he could give me your precious designs."

I stood frozen in place upon hearing this, while Delilah looked at me with contempt and scoffed. "Idiot."

I ignored her mockery and followed her wandering figure around the study. The walls were filled with pictures and sketches, all expressions of Tristan's unspoken longing—for Delilah, not me.

At that moment, I felt like an outsider, stumbling into a memory that belonged to their close connection. Delilah picked up a carefully drawn sketch and walked over to me.

I froze. The profile in the drawing was identical to mine, except for a mole at the corner of the eye.

I had seen this drawing before on Tristan's desk. He had gently pulled me into his arms, smiling as he tapped my nose and said, "I drew this specifically for you, Tia. Do you like it?"

Delilah looked at me, her tone filled with mockery. "Did you think he was drawing you? No, silly. He was drawing me while waiting for my dance class to finish.

"Just like your mother, you're a piece of useless garbage. Your mother couldn't keep her man from my mother, and you'll naturally follow her footsteps."

She continued, "I'm feeling generous tonight, so I'll let you on to something—I was the one who caused your public humiliation.

"You were an arrogant heiress, while I had to wear the label of the illegitimate daughter of a homewrecker! Nobody cared about the truth that Mom knew Dad first!

"I should've had everything you had! So, tell me, how did it feel like going from the revered young heiress admired by everyone to a shameless bitch?

"Even your homewrecking mother is dead! And your child—right, even your child is mine now."

As a buzz pierced through my head, I glared at Delilah with my bloodshot eyes and screamed, "Shut up!"

"Considering how miserable you are, I'll let you in on another secret. Go to the summit of Echofall Peak, and a surprise might await you there. After all, you're about to lose everything soon," she said with a smile.

Delilah's lips curled into a smirk. After she finished speaking, she pulled my hand and swung it toward the easel. "Lethia, I didn't know these were all drawings of me! I swear nothing is going on between Tristan and me! Please don't be mad…"

When Tristan heard the commotion, he instantly barged in and shoved me before holding Delilah in a tight embrace.

"Tristan, I'm fine. Don't be mad at Lethia. She didn't mean it."

"You don't have to defend her anymore, Lila. I saw everything!"

He gently carried her, approached me, and furiously screamed, "Have I spoiled you too much over the last three years, Lethia? How have you become such a vicious woman?"

With that, he strode off and left the house with her.

The large doors swung open, and the night wind howled, stinging my wounds. A car sped past. The fleeting glimpse of the lucky doll keychain numbed my heart to its lowest point.

I got up, found the divorce agreement that had already been signed, and placed it in the study. After clearing all my belongings, I grabbed my luggage and left the house.

After I followed the private hospital coordinates Tristan had once sent me, I arrived at a desolate, run-down factory.

A small mound of dirt caught my attention, and I froze as I walked toward it. I then turned and headed toward Echofall Peak.

During the car ride, he texted me, "You'd better come over and apologize now!"

With a calm headspace, I blocked his number, deleted his contact, and switched off my phone.

Tristan, who had accompanied Delilah to an island for a vacation to cheer her up, stared darkly at the red exclamation mark.

The next moment, Lawrence's panicked voice sounded. "Tristan, I think Tia has found out!"