With my baby's ashes in tow, I saw breathtaking landscapes I'd never witnessed before.

It wasn't until George Halloway, a photography enthusiast, approached me that I broke out of my silence.

"Is that someone you lost?" he asked gently. "You look heartbroken."

He handed me a photo he had just taken. In it, I was sitting with the urn in my arms, gazing into the distance.

I forced a faint smile. "That's… my unborn child."

George's expression softened with apology. "Then I'm sure they'd be happy you brought them to a place like this."

My eyes flickered. "Do you think so?"

"Of course. You brought them somewhere so beautiful, didn't you?"

Encouraged by George, I began to appreciate Acreatic's stunning scenery. His photography was exceptional. He took countless pictures for me.

"These," he said, "can be little keepsakes… for your unborn child."

I looked at the breathtaking views and felt my heart slowly opening.

But Marina still hadn't learned to leave me alone.

Just like before, she sent me a string of photos, then followed up with a tearful message.

Marina: [I'm sorry, Annie. I meant to send those to a friend.]

In the photos, she and Bertrand stood far too close. The intimacy in their body language told me everything. Bertrand had clearly allowed it.

This was his usual tactic of using Marina to punish me.

I touched the urn gently and ignored her childish games.

I didn't even want Bertrand anymore. Why would I care about such pitiful provocations?

Acreatic was beautiful. And for once, Bertrand and Marina no longer had any power over my emotions.

George took more photos for me, some even with the two of us together.

When I looked at my smiling face in one of them, I was momentarily stunned. It had been so long since I'd truly smiled.

Two days before my return flight, Bertrand finally called after a week of silence, furious.

"Annie, this tantrum of yours has gone on long enough. Are you really divorcing me over something this small?"

That's right, I'd sent him a breakup message. He must've forgotten we never actually registered our marriage, thinking this was a divorce.

I almost reminded him, but in the end, I didn't. Because the truth was, we no longer had any ties.

At the airport back home, I ran into George again.

He looked surprised. "You're on this flight too?"

"Yeah. What a coincidence."

After all, what were the odds of returning from Acreatic on the same flight? Maybe we really were fated to cross paths.

After getting our luggage, George and I were going to say goodbye to each other.

"Are you planning to take your baby somewhere new?"

"Mhm. It's time for them to rest now."

I felt the weight of the urn in my bag and, for the first time, felt at peace.

George's eyes dimmed with sympathy. He leaned down and hugged me gently. "Annie, everything's going to be okay."

His warmth touched something in me. I was just about to return the embrace when Bertrand suddenly appeared and punched him to the ground.

"Bertrand, what are you doing?!"

I rushed forward and stood protectively in front of George.

Bertrand's eyes were red, his expression uncharacteristically shaken.

"Annie, who is he to you? Have you forgotten you're a married woman?!"

I opened my mouth to explain that we were never legally married.

But George scoffed coldly before I could speak.

"You're her husband? Then where were you when she went to Acreatic? When she boarded the cruise alone, where were you? Ah… right. With that woman behind you, perhaps?"

He pointed behind Bertrand with a smirk.

Marina was standing nearby and watching the scene unfold like it was entertainment. She was no longer limping.

Bertrand scowled. "She's just a colleague. Nothing more."

Marina's face turned pale, and her posture faltered.

George dusted off his clothes, then suddenly put an arm around my shoulders.

"Then what's the problem? Annie and I are just friends too."

"Let go of her! You bastard—"

I couldn't take it anymore. As Bertrand tried to lash out again, I slapped him across the face. "Enough! What the hell are you doing?!"

Bertrand clutched his cheek and looked at me in disbelief. "Annie…you hit me…for him?"

"I just wanted you to calm down," I said. "George is my friend. I won't let you hurt him."

I helped George to his feet.

Bertrand grabbed my arm, jealousy blazing in his eyes. "You went to Acreatic with this guy for days! Have you forgotten you're my wife?!"

He was about to explode with accusations, but I met his gaze and said calmly, "Did you forget? Because of your secretary's sprained ankle, we never actually registered our marriage."

His face turned deathly pale in an instant.

"It wasn't because of her ankle, Annie. The company had an emergency…"

"Oh?" I cut him off. "What kind of emergency is more important than getting married? Go on, tell me."

George chuckled from the sidelines, adding fuel to the fire.

I waited in silence for Bertrand to answer, but he fumbled and stammered, unable to say a word.

I wasn't surprised.

"Bertrand, let's end this."

I didn't plan on telling him about the baby. I was afraid he'd lose control and try to take my baby's ashes away from me.

"No! Annie, I won't agree to this! This is because of him, isn't it? You want to break up because of that guy?"

He couldn't comprehend it. In his mind, all he'd done was delay the wedding. How had it come to this?

George, now pulled into the drama, let out a bitter laugh.

"If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have lost the—"

I quickly grabbed George's arm and cut him off. "Forget it. Let's just go."

Bertrand burned with jealousy as he stared at my hand resting on George's arm. "Annie, let go of him. Don't try to provoke me. You know how I get when I'm jealous. I don't know what I'll do."

I met his gaze without flinching. "I'm only doing what you taught me. There's nothing going on between me and George. So why are you so furious?"

Those were the very same words Bertrand had once used to scold me.

He staggered back a few steps, his face awash with regret.

"That's not what I meant, Annie…"

He tried to explain, but I no longer cared to listen.

After leaving the airport, I found a peaceful cemetery and laid my baby to rest.

For the child who never got the chance to be born, I chose the name Noan.

Once everything was arranged, I returned to the hotel, utterly drained—body and soul—from days of travel and emotional upheaval.

But just as I lay down, Bertrand's urgent shouting and pounding echoed from outside the door.

Reluctantly, I opened it.

He burst in, frantically searching the room before turning on me with rage. "Where is he?!"

"Who?"

The absurdity of his question made me laugh, bitterly.

"Bertrand, I'm not as dirty-minded as you think."

He clenched his jaw. "You moved out of our home because of him! You even threw away our keepsakes! Annie, do all these years mean nothing to you?!"

I looked into his bloodshot eyes and spoke softly, "You're right, Bertrand. I regret it all."

I had been so desperate to marry him, I hadn't even realized I was pregnant. Just a few months ago, I'd humbled myself and taken a menial job at his law firm.

But instead of acknowledging me, Bertrand had kept our relationship a secret and allowed Marina, his secretary, to order me around as she pleased.

"Annie," Marina had once said, "if you can't beat me, then what good are you?"

In my naivety, I accepted the challenge.

But every bit of credit for my work was stolen by Marina.

When I found out, I confronted him, and we had a vicious argument.

Face flushed with anger, he shouted, "Stop being unreasonable, Annie! Marina's skills are well-known in the industry. You've just entered the field. How could you possibly have written such an impressive report?"

He had forgotten that my father had been a brilliant lawyer too.

As I looked at Marina's overly painted lips and the smudge of lipstick on his collar, I lost all will to fight.

After that, I quit his firm and stopped keeping tabs on him altogether.

Maybe sensing my withdrawal, Bertrand suddenly tried to make amends. And for a brief moment, I thought maybe we had a chance.

But time and again, he chose Marina over me.

What he didn't realize was, the day we were supposed to get married was the last chance I was ever going to give him.