Caught off guard by Blaire's sudden appearance, Evan's brow furrowed for the briefest second before his usual careless smirk returned. He tightened his arm around Cora's waist.

His friends reacted fast, forcing awkward smiles as they jumped in to smooth things over.

"Don't overthink it, Blaire. Evan's just having one of his episodes again. Don't blame him. He's been trying his best, but this isn't something he can control."

"She's just a promotional model from the club. It's their first time meeting. Evan would never betray you."

"Enough." Evan cut them off lightly. "Why are you explaining so much to her? It's not like she gets to tell me what to do."

One of the guys laughed nervously. "You've lost it, Evan. When you're back to normal, she's going to kick you out of house. I'd dial it down if I were you."

"Yeah, exactly. The weather's bad anyway. Let's skip the mountain run. Just head home with Blaire and make it up to her. You're newlyweds. No need to ruin the mood."

Blaire listened to their back-and-forth without a flicker of emotion.

She had seen this performance too many times.

Whenever Evan had one of his so-called episodes, his friends turned into matchmakers, lining up to plead his case in front of her.

That had been one of the reasons she kept going back.

Only because Evan appeared so deeply in love would the people around him sincerely regret their separation.

She had heard it all so many times and never once realized they were all in on the lie.

Cora slipped free from Evan's arm and strode over in her heels until she stood in front of Blaire.

"So you're the woman who divorced Evan three times and still refuses to let go? What is this, playing hard to get? Got bored and decided to remind him you still exist?"

One of the guys paled and grabbed her arm. "Cora, have you lost your mind? Who gave you the nerve to talk to Blaire like that?"

"Evan did." She looped her arms around Evan's neck and kissed him deeply, then tapped his chest twice with deliberate force.

"Does your promise still stand, Mr. Everett? One kiss for you risking your life on the death track." She glanced back at Blaire. "Or are you too busy running home to comfort that wife of yours who keeps crawling back and still isn't worth anything?"

Blaire never spoke. Her gaze rested quietly on Evan's face as she waited for his answer.

The next second, she heard him reply as if it were only natural. "You've already given me the prize. If I don't race, won't you be upset?"

Blaire lowered her eyes, hiding the bitterness rising in her chest.

Even now, he was still acting.

Evan put on his helmet and pinched Cora's cheek with indulgent affection. "I like you. Of course I don't want you upset."

The faint glimmer of hope in Blaire's eyes—one she hadn't even realized was there—was doused in an instant.

A person only had one heart. But for Evan, one had never been enough. He had split it in two—one half cherishing Blaire above all else, the other offering the same rehearsed devotion to anyone else.

Sensing the blade-sharp weight of Blaire's stare, Evan finally looked up. Through the visor, his eyes met hers. His lips still curved in a smile, but his voice had turned cold.

"What are you staring at? Whoever married you can deal with you. It's got nothing to do with me."

Nothing to do with him?

Blaire had thought she was already numb. Yet her heart still felt as though it were being carved open.

She took a slow breath and smiled—this time, sincerely. "Fine. Then I hope you get exactly what you want."

Her voice was light, like a breeze too fleeting to hold. Unease stirred inside Evan, sharp and sudden, and it worsened as Blaire turned and walked away without hesitation.

Just as he nearly called out to stop her, Cora spoke softly. "Tonight, you only get to choose one. If you pick her, don't ever come see me again."

Her voice dipped almost into a plea. "At least tonight, I'm not your mistress."

Evan sighed and gently ruffled her hair. "You hardly ever ask me for anything. How could I say no? Don't frown. Tonight, I'm yours."

Blaire never looked back. She walked away, step by steady step.

Not just tonight. From now on, Cora would no longer have to be the mistress.

Blaire was giving them her blessing.

Evan did not come home that night.

A heavy storm had swept in after dark, and the death track still claimed its victim.

Evan's car had flipped over the guardrail. Beyond it lay the raging coastline. One more roll and he would have been swallowed by the sea.

Cora had dragged him out of the water herself, nearly risking her own life to do it.

That same night, Blaire finalized the divorce agreement with her lawyer. The moment she unlocked her phone, headlines flooded the screen.

"Evan Everett dances with death for a beauty."

"The beauty who saved him—will he choose new passion or old desire?"

......

After clearing the sensational nonsense, Blaire noticed that Evan had called her over a dozen times an hour earlier. Judging by the timing, he must have just been declared out of danger.

She had intended to ignore it. But for the sake of the divorce papers, she went to the hospital anyway.

Evan's room was empty. After asking around, she found Cora's hospital room instead.

From the doorway, she saw Evan wrapped in bandages, sitting vigil beside Cora's bed. He held her hand tightly, as though afraid she might vanish if he loosened his grip.

As if sensing her presence, Evan turned. His eyes were bloodshot. "Honey," he rasped.

Blaire walked in and handed him the document. "Sign it."

"What is this?"

He did not need her answer. The words Divorce Agreement were printed clearly across the cover.

His face drained of color as he stared at her. "I almost died in that crash. You're not even going to ask if I'm hurt? You're asking for a divorce?"

Blaire was silent for a moment before she spoke. "If my husband died for another woman, would that be something I should feel proud of? Evan, my reputation matters too. If you'd actually died, you would have dragged my name through the mud with you. So while you're still breathing, sign."

His jaw tightened, a vein pulsing at his temple.

"Everyone knows my primary and secondary personalities are different. Who, besides you, would blame a patient with dissociative identity disorder for being emotionally inconsistent? As for reputation, do you even have one left? Why are you so obsessed with meaningless pride that you keep giving up on me—on my feelings—over and over again?"

Blaire's fists clenched so hard her nails dug into her palms. Her voice trembled despite her restraint. "Evan, I'm the one giving up? I heard you. You're not sick at all…"

A strained groan slipped from Cora's lips. Evan immediately stood and leaned over her, checking on her condition with anxious care. Every gentle movement, every worried glance, cut so sharply that Blaire could barely stand there another second.

She repeated, more firmly, "Sign it."

"Blaire, do you have to be this aggressive? My secondary personality is a complete individual with his own thoughts. I gave him up once for you, but he came back. I can't strip him of his rights again."

Evan lowered his head, dragging a hand through his hair in exhaustion. Anger and agitation were tightly restrained in his voice.

"Blaire, you can't be this heartless and this greedy. We were happy—but what about them? They would die for each other. Their love isn't any less than ours."

Blaire had no interest in hearing another lie.

"Evan, either you sign, or I file through the court. Your choice."

He looked at her steadily, certainty soft in his tone. "You can't leave me. I know you love me. Just like I love you. We can't be apart. Honey, we've already divorced three times over this. Can you stop being difficult? Try to be understanding. Don't make this a scene."

Blaire let out a quiet laugh. "You think I'm making a scene?"

Evan said nothing. His flat, untroubled gaze answered for him.

She nodded once, unwilling to waste another word. "Then let's find out."

Blaire had formally filed for divorce through her lawyer. The lawyer gently reminded her that the more evidence they gathered of Evan's infidelity, the stronger her case would be.

She stared at the message for a long time, a strange mix of clarity and bitter self-mockery settling over her.

Once, she had been kidnapped by one of Evan's rivals. He had nearly died on that same track trying to save her.

That was when the so-called psychological break had begun—when he claimed to have split into a second personality, one created solely to protect a primary self devoted only to Blaire.

Blaire had believed him without hesitation. She had even blamed herself. That was why she kept turning back, again and again. Only now did she realize it had all been a lie from the very beginning.

There was nothing left in this marriage worth hesitating over.

She was about to reply to her lawyer when she heard movement at the entryway.

Evan walked in on crutches. It had only been a short time since she had seen him, yet the exhaustion in his face seemed heavier.

"I've signed the divorce papers," he said quietly. "I'll ask you one more time. Are you sure you want this?"

Blaire's expression did not change. She nodded. "I'm sure."

Evan gave a soft acknowledgment and placed the documents on the table.

Blaire flipped to the last page and signed her name neatly beside his bold, sweeping signature.

A muffled sob broke the silence.

She turned her head and realized that at some point, Evan had begun to cry. Tears streamed openly down his face.

"I don't want a divorce," he said hoarsely.

Blaire believed him.

She had never doubted his love for her. Just as she no longer doubted that he would betray her again. Both were fixed truths.

The divorce papers were crumpled in his fist, tear stains blotting the ink beside his name.

Evan was not a man who cried easily. But he always cried for Blaire.

He had cried while begging for another chance. He had cried, saying he did not know what to do. He had cried, whispering that he loved her more than anything.

The man who stood dignified before the world, capable of carrying an entire conglomerate on his shoulders, had turned into someone fragile and desperate whenever he faced Blaire after each divorce.

Blaire parted her lips, intending to speak—then her gaze caught the brand-new diamond ring on his hand.

"Cora wants us divorced." Evan traced the ring with his thumb as he explained in a strained voice. "She saved my life. This is the only thing she asked for. I owe her that. I promised that when the secondary personality comes back, I'll give her a wedding. It will be as if I've married her. But legally, you're still my only wife. I've arranged everything. The sixteenth of next month is ideal. We'll divorce now and remarry that day."

Even now, he clung stubbornly to that absurd theory of dual personalities.

"You think the courthouse is some tourist spot you can check in and out of?" A dull, numb ache spread across Blaire's chest. She spoke slowly, each word deliberate. "Evan, I told you. This is the last time."

His eyes reddened further. He was about to speak when a sharp, arrogant ringtone shattered the moment.

Whatever he heard on the other end made his expression darken instantly.

A cold, accusatory gaze fell on Blaire. "Blaire, what did you do to Cora?"