It was late into the night, but Roxanne remained wide awake.

She buried her face in the pillow, her mind tangled with thoughts. Suddenly, an unruly hand slipped around her waist. Feeling the warm breath against her back, she instinctively shifted away, dodging the kiss that was about to land on her.

Her resistance caught Andre by surprise. After all, in the three years since their marriage, it had always been Roxanne who eagerly sought his embrace.

This rare moment of his own desire being met with rejection made it impossible for him not to ask, "Are you in a bad mood?"

"I'm on my period," Roxanne replied, making up an excuse on the spot.

Andre did not think much of it. He responded with a quiet hum and gently tucked the blanket around her. As was his habit before bed, he mentally reviewed the day's events. Suddenly, he recalled the property transfer agreement from earlier and asked about it.

"Where's the property transfer agreement? Let me check if there are any loopholes."

Roxanne's heart began to pound, but she fixed a steady gaze on him.

"Do you really want to see it?"

Noticing the tension in her expression, Andre frowned slightly and gave a small nod.

After a long moment of silence, Roxanne got out of bed and went to the study. She pulled out the document and was just about to hand it to him when an abrupt ringtone cut through the quiet.

Andre answered the phone.

"Andre! Gary is drunk again and yelling outside. Come quickly, I'm so scared!"

Thinking of Caitlin's ex-husband—someone known for his aggressiveness—Andre's expression changed. He threw on a coat and prepared to leave immediately.

Watching his hurried movements, Roxanne called out to him. "Is that your friend's sister who's getting divorced? Something happened again?"

Andre was about to confirm it but was worried that she might overthink things as it was already so late at night, so he decided to exaggerate the situation instead.

"Yes. Her ex-husband got drunk again and is waiting outside with a knife. I need to check on her. Otherwise, it might be dangerous—possibly life-threatening."

Roxanne did not try to stop him. She simply told him to be careful.

After Andre left, Roxanne remained awake for the rest of the night. Even as daylight filled the room, she never once closed her eyes.

She picked up her phone to check the time, only to notice that Caitlin—whom she had secretly followed on social media just a few days earlier—had posted a new video to her feed.

In the video, the sun slowly rose between the mountains, spilling its golden light across the sky. Excited gasps echoed from all directions. The camera panned, and Andre's figure flashed briefly across the frame.

"The darkness of yesterday is over. Everything will soon be reborn."

Staring at those final words frozen on the screen, Roxanne felt a sharp pain in her heart.

It seemed Caitlin had successfully ended her previous marriage.

Of course, she had. With Andre—the top lawyer in his field—by her side, and with how many years he had been in love with her, he would have poured everything he had into helping Caitlin the moment he heard she was getting a divorce.

Now that she was single again, it was only a matter of time before Andre asked for a divorce so that he could be with her.

Roxanne did not even need to imagine it in detail; she could already picture how it would happen.

A bitter smile crept onto her lips, her heart sinking into quiet despair. A divorce was imminent. All she did was bring it forward.

Rather than waiting passively to be discarded, choosing to leave on her own terms was the only way to preserve the last shred of her dignity, was it not?

Roxanne set the phone down, stood up, and began gathering all the matching items she had once bought for them. She threw them into a cardboard box and dragged it downstairs.

Just then, Andre returned and saw her struggling. He rushed over at once.

"Why are you throwing out so many things?"

Roxanne lowered her gaze. "They were never used. Better to throw them out before they take up more space."

Andre nodded in understanding and took the box from her hands. Watching his silhouette gradually fade into the distance, Roxanne's expression remained calm.

In truth, if he simply opened the box and looked inside, he would have realized that everything about to be thrown away was things she had once treasured dearly.

With his intelligence, he would surely recognize what her unusual actions meant—she wanted to leave.

There was still room for a turning point in their story, but Andre did nothing. He tossed the box directly into the trash bin, then turned away.

There was no hesitation in his moves.

One afternoon, Roxanne's computer suddenly froze. In order to quickly finish organizing her files, she borrowed Andre's laptop.

While she was waiting for the documents to transfer, a new message notification suddenly popped up. She clicked it without thinking and saw that it was a message from the law firm.

"Andre, we're having a company dinner tonight. Are you bringing your girlfriend?"

Seeing that message, Roxanne's hand trembled slightly.

In the three years they had been married, Andre had never made their relationship public. In the eyes of others, he had always appeared to be single. That was also why, when she went to his law firm for legal consultation, not a single person had recognized her.

Would he say yes this time?

Roxanne did not know. She did not dare to hope.

Andre, seated beside her, glanced up at her the moment he saw the message as if trying to gauge her expression.

Noticing his gaze, Roxanne gave a faint smile. "Are you going to take me to the dinner?"

What she truly meant to ask was, 'After three years, are you finally going to acknowledge me?'

Andre did not know how to respond. He opened his mouth but said nothing.

That brief moment of silence pierced straight through Roxanne's heart like a blade, leaving behind a dull, lingering pain. She forced down the ache and put on an indifferent expression, pretending to be relaxed.

"I have something to do tonight. Even if you wanted to bring me, I probably wouldn't have time."

Andre's tension eased slightly, and his expression returned to normal. "Next time, then. When there's another chance, I'll take you."

Roxanne did not reply. She lifted her hand to shield her eyes and silently answered him in her heart. 'Next time? Andre, there would be no next time.'

…

That evening, Andre attended the dinner alone. As soon as he stepped into the venue, several of his drunken colleagues surrounded him.

"It's been three years, and we still haven't seen you bring a girlfriend to these events. Andre, that's not cool!"

"Come on, let us meet your lady already. How long are you going to keep her hidden away like a secret treasure?"

Under their teasing and pressure, Andre pulled out his phone. There were two names he could choose from—Caitlin or Roxanne. After hesitating for a long time, Andre finally tapped on the first contact and sent a message.

Before long, Caitlin arrived at the address he had given her.

The moment she pushed open the door, the entire private room lit up with excitement. Everyone burst into praise, complimenting Andre on his excellent taste.

As the evening wore on and the alcohol flowed, Nathaniel suddenly felt the urge to use the restroom. On his way out, he handed a document folder to Andre and asked him to pass it along to a lady downstairs.

It was a small favor, and naturally, Andre did not refuse. He took the piece of paper the client's phone number was written on and headed downstairs, glancing through the documents inside along the way.

He waited and waited but saw no sign of anyone. Finally, he took out his phone and dialed the number—only to realize that the contact was already saved in his phone. The moment the name 'Roxy' appeared on his screen, Andre froze.

He pulled the document out of the folder. Just as he was about to open it for a closer look, a pair of blinding headlights shone directly on him.

Shielding his eyes slightly, he looked up. Upon seeing Roxanne's figure, suspicion immediately rose in his heart. He raised the folder and questioned her. "A divorce property division agreement? Roxanne, what's the meaning of this?"

Roxanne was just as surprised, but her expression remained calm. She lied without hesitation, "It's Erica who wants a divorce. I helped her make an appointment with Mr. Shepherd."

Andre's instincts told him this was not as simple as she made it sound.

Frowning, he was about to open the agreement and read it for himself when a hand suddenly reached out from behind and hooked around his arm.

"Andre, didn't you come out to meet a client? What's taking you so long?"

As Caitlin pressed close to him, Andre became flustered and panicked. He did not even dare look at Roxanne's expression, much less figure out what to say.

Yet rather than explain, he was reluctant to push away Caitlin, who was willingly leaning into him at that moment.

Roxanne, however, remained far calmer than he had expected.

She took two steps forward, reached out, and retrieved the agreement from his hands. Then, with a slight nod, she spoke with polite detachment.

"Thank you, Mr. Spencer. My friend and I are in the middle of handling her divorce, so we won't trouble you any further."

The night wind blew through the car window, sending strands of hair flying in every direction.

Throughout the entire ride, Roxanne's mind replayed the image of Caitlin standing beside Andre again and again.

Perhaps she had been hurt too many times because, at this point, she no longer felt pain. All that remained was an overwhelming sense of exhaustion.

Why did the 30-day cooling-off period feel this long?

She rubbed her stinging eyes. In a moment of carelessness, she failed to notice the car ahead reversing illegally and crashed straight into it. A loud bang echoed through the air.

Her leg became trapped beneath the twisted frame of the car door, and blood flowed freely down her skin. In an instant, all color drained from her face, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

Despite the stabbing pain, she stayed rational and called for emergency services.

After she was rushed into the emergency room, the doctor conducted a full examination. The injury was not life-threatening, but a minor operation was necessary. The doctor asked her to contact a family member.

Roxanne's parents lived far away in another city, so she called Andre. However, after over a dozen calls, he did not answer a single one.

She remembered that he was likely surrounded by colleagues and friends right now—and perhaps even the woman he had been secretly in love with for years. Most likely, they were raising their glasses and discussing life, laughing without a care in the world.

Why would he have time to answer her calls?

A nearby nurse, noticing that she had not been able to reach anyone, could not help but ask a question, "Your husband really can't come?"

Roxanne shook her head, her voice surprisingly calm. "We're already in the midst of divorcing. It'll be completely finalized within a month."

The nurse was caught off guard, her expression visibly shocked.

"But your marriage is technically still in effect, is it not? You could at least call him to come and sign something."

At that moment, as memories of the past three years of marriage surged through her, Roxanne was filled with emotions.

Just to have one meal with him, she stayed up and waited countless nights, only to be met with a single sentence like, "I have to work overtime and won't be coming home."

Just to be able to hold a conversation with him, she studied legal codes and regulations, only to have him dismiss her confidence with one phrase, "You're just an outsider."

Just to make him happy, she had prepared a birthday surprise, but all she received in return was, "I'm tired. I don't have the energy."

From beginning to end, Roxanne was the only one who clung to the relationship with blind devotion. Every incident and every disappointment was proof that he had never loved her.

Andre would not come. Roxanne could no longer lie to herself.

"A husband who can't be reached after his wife got into a car accident… What does it matter whether he comes or not?"

The nurse sighed after hearing that, her eyes filled with sympathy. "Then call a friend."

In the days that followed, it was Erica who stayed by Roxanne's side and took care of her.

It was not until five days later that Andre finally received word and rushed to the hospital. When he walked into the ward and saw her injured ankle, confusion appeared on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in a car accident?"

Roxanne had intended to explain, but the moment she looked up and saw the expression on his face, she was unexpectedly reminded of those dozen missed calls. She swallowed the words stuck in her throat and responded with a faint smile.

"You were busy. I didn't want to bother you over something so minor."

Hearing that, Andre felt a twinge of guilt and began to explain the events from a few days ago. "Roxy, that day with Caitlin was just a coincidence. Don't overthink it."

"Has Caitlin's divorce process been finalized?"

It was rare for her to ask such a question. A flicker of surprise crossed Andre's eyes, but he still answered truthfully, "It's done. The divorce is official."

The smile on Roxanne's face deepened. In a soft voice, she said, "Congratulations. I hope mine can go as smoothly as hers."

Andre did not understand what she meant by that. Just as he was about to ask, his phone rang again. When he saw the caller ID, he hesitated for a moment, then stepped out into the hallway to take the call.

It was half an hour before he returned. When he arrived, the door to the hospital ward was slightly ajar, and Roxanne's voice floated out from inside.

"Yes, I'm just waiting for the divorce cooling-off period to end. There are 15 days left. Then it'll all finally be over…"

That property division agreement suddenly resurfaced in Andre's mind. Thinking of her earlier, cryptic words, he felt his heart skip several beats. He pushed the door open at once.

"Divorce cooling-off period? Who's getting divorced?"