A slow heat rose in my chest, burning with unspoken fury. My voice turned sharp.

"If you like it so much, buy one yourself. It’s not as if it’s a one-of-a-kind piece."

Without waiting for a response, I reached out to take it back.

Sensing my intent, Ava swiftly pulled her arm away, her lips curling into a sneer.

"At your age, this bracelet would only make you look old-fashioned..."

A sharp sound cut through the room.

The bracelet struck the door lock, shattering into several pieces. The crisp, metallic echo rang out as the fragments scattered across the floor.

The noise was loud enough to draw Hugo and Jasper over.

Hugo’s face drained of color the moment his gaze landed on the shattered bracelet. Without so much as a question, his voice lashed out coldly. “Mom gave you this heirloom as a symbol of trust, and yet you couldn’t even take care of it?”

Jasper folded his arms, his tone laced with disapproval. “Mom, you don’t even work, and now you’ve smashed a bracelet worth tens of thousands? At this rate, you’re going to ruin our family.”

He was only five, yet the way he looked at me, filled with nothing but contempt, was like a knife twisting in my chest.

Not a single inquiry. No hesitation. Father and son had already passed judgment, pinning the blame on me without a second thought. My heart sank beneath the weight of disappointment, a feeling I had grown far too accustomed to.

I let out a slow breath, my voice turning ice-cold. “There were two people in this room. What makes you so sure I was the one who broke it? She stole my bracelet and refused to return it. When I tried to take it back, she shattered it. She should be the one compensating me.”

Just as the last word left my lips, Ava’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I’m sorry… It’s all my fault,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Audrey’s bracelet was just so beautiful; I couldn’t help but admire it. I only tried it on because I couldn’t resist…”

Her tears slipped down like pearls rolling off a broken string, her delicate face painted with remorse.

The moment Hugo saw Ava’s pitiful expression, his entire demeanor shifted. The harshness from earlier vanished as if it had never existed.

With a tenderness I had never once received, he pulled out a handkerchief and gently handed it to her. His voice, now warm and soothing, carried none of the sharpness he had used on me.

“Don’t say that. You deserve everything beautiful in this world.”

Jasper, too, lost his earlier arrogance. He eagerly leaned closer to Ava, his eyes brimming with admiration.

“Aunt Ava, you’re way too kind. It’s just a bracelet. If you like it, my dad can buy you another one.”

Ava’s tears shimmered under the soft glow of their affection. With such gentle reassurance, she finally let a smile break through the sorrow on her face.

She sniffled, her voice trembling. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay it back. I may not be able to afford it now, but if you don’t mind, I can pay in installments.”

Hugo dismissed her words with a chuckle, his tone indulgent. “Don’t say such distant things. Jasper just learned how to make your favorite braised pork. Come try it.”

Father and son encircled Ava like devoted knights escorting their princess, leading her toward the dining room without so much as a glance in my direction.

I stood frozen, watching my husband and son shower another woman with the warmth I had long since been deprived of.

My heart, already numbed by their indifference, felt as if it had been sealed in ice for a thousand years. Any lingering attachment I had to this place shattered into dust.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. Four in the afternoon.

At this hour on any other day, I would have been out buying groceries.

Hugo loved beef, so every day, without fail, I bought a pound of beef shank, slow-cooked it until tender, sliced it with precision, and arranged it neatly on a delicate porcelain plate.

Jasper had a taste for sweet and sour dishes, sweet and sour fish, sweet and sour ribs, and squirrel fish; he loved them all.

He despised green onions, ginger, and garlic, so before serving his meals, I meticulously picked out every trace of them.

Father and son were both impossibly particular about their food. To prepare a single meal, I spent over two hours standing in the kitchen, ensuring everything was just right.

But now, I was leaving.

No longer would I exhaust myself catering to their every whim.

For the next two days, I had only one goal: learning how to please myself.

I pushed open the wardrobe door, greeted by a neat row of long, conservative dresses.

Shoving them aside, I reached for an unopened pink gift box hidden at the back, a birthday present I had bought for myself on my thirtieth birthday. Inside lay a strapless, blush-pink ball gown with a low waistline, untouched, waiting.

Hugo never liked me wearing revealing clothes. To please him, I had filled my closet with outfits that suffocated me, while the ones I truly loved remained buried at the bottom, forgotten.

The thought alone made my chest tighten.

Tonight, I wasn’t dressing for him.

I slipped into the gown and added a touch of light makeup. The elegant cut accentuated my slender waist, the soft fabric cascading down my frame. My long, fair legs stood out against the delicate hue of the dress.

As I descended the stairs, Hugo’s gaze froze.

"Why are you dressed like that?" His voice was sharp, edged with something he couldn’t quite name.

Ava’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion as she studied me, her lips twitching as if suppressing a reaction.

Jasper, however, frowned impatiently. "It’s already late. Why haven’t you made dinner yet? I’m starving."

I met his gaze without a trace of emotion, my voice steady.

"I'm not eating at home tonight. You don’t have to wait for me."

The air in the room shifted. Hugo and Jasper stiffened at my words.

Jasper’s face darkened. "If you don’t cook, what are we supposed to eat?"

Ava let out a light chuckle, her voice dripping with amusement. "Audrey dressed up so beautifully; she must be meeting someone special. We shouldn’t disturb them. As for dinner, I can cook. After all, someone like me doesn’t have anyone to ask me out anyway."

She deliberately emphasized the word "date," her tone soaked in suggestion. As expected, Hugo’s expression darkened instantly.

"It’s late. Dressed like that, who are you going to see?"

I met his gaze, utterly indifferent. "No one. If you don’t believe me, feel free to follow."

With that, I turned and walked out. Behind me, the sharp slam of a cup against the table echoed through the room, but I didn’t so much as flinch.

For once, the evening was mine.

I decided to go shopping.

In the past, whenever I shopped for clothes, I would head straight to the men’s section, first for my husband and then for my son. By the time I was done, the day had already slipped away.

Sometimes, I would spot a dress I liked, but I never had the luxury to stop. There was always something more pressing, always a reason to hurry home and cook for them.

But tonight, they weren’t here.

Tonight, my time belonged to me.

I wandered through the stores, my fingers grazing delicate fabrics, my eyes lingering on dresses I would have once dismissed without a second thought.

I hesitated. It felt unnecessary.

I was leaving soon; I couldn’t take them with me. Buying them only to wear them for a few days felt meaningless.

As I mulled over the thought, I idly scrolled through my phone. A new post caught my eye.

Ava’s latest update.

[Yay! Such a loving little family!]

The picture showed her sitting beside Hugo and Jasper at the dinner table, a warm, intimate glow cast over the elaborate spread before them. Red wine. Scattered rose petals. The perfect scene of a happy home.

Anyone who didn’t know better would think she was the mistress of the house.

Then, my gaze landed on the bottle of red wine.

I knew that bottle.

Hugo had bought it for our wedding. He once told me he’d save it for our golden anniversary.

Yet today, he had opened it early for another woman.

How ironic.

The home I had painstakingly built had become someone else’s prize, a reward for a love I was never a part of.

But I no longer cared.

I would be gone soon. There would be no golden anniversary, no future where I clung to something that was never truly mine.

Smirking, I tapped the like button on the post before turning my attention back to my purchase.

Seven dresses in total, each one chosen purely for myself.

I wasn’t buying them out of spite. No, this was something else.

A realization.

So what if it was wasteful? So what if I couldn’t take them with me?

For once, I would stop thinking about what was practical and simply enjoy the moment.

Once I returned to my original world, frugality would be a necessity again.

But for now, before I leave, why not indulge one last time?

With several shopping bags in hand, I made my way to a restaurant I had longed to visit.

The meal was exquisite, yet a strange restlessness lingered within me as if indulgence alone wasn’t enough.

On a whim, I stepped into a renowned salon nearby. By the time I walked out, my once jet-black hair had transformed into voluminous brown waves, soft and effortlessly elegant. From a distance, I looked like a completely different woman, modern, confident, unshackled.

I had always despised my straight black hair, yet I had kept it for years because that was how Hugo liked it.

Not anymore.

For the first time in forever, I felt like myself again.

As I passed a large glass window, I caught sight of my reflection and couldn’t resist taking a picture. With a quiet smirk, I uploaded it to social media.

Caption: “It’s never too late.”

Slipping my phone into my bag, I strolled home at an unhurried pace, savoring the crisp night air.

By now, I expected everyone to be asleep.

Yet the moment I stepped inside, three pairs of eyes locked onto me.

Hugo’s gaze dragged over me, his expression darkening with each passing second. The air grew heavy, thick with unspoken discontent. His voice, cold and edged with restraint, sent a cold chill through the room.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

I pulled it out absentmindedly. Seventeen missed calls.

“Oh, it was on silent. I didn’t hear it.” My tone was calm, indifferent.

I turned to head upstairs, but before I could take another step, Hugo suddenly seized my arm.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you dressed like this? And your hair, what kind of proper mother looks like this?”

I let out a cold laugh.

So that was all I amounted to in Hugo’s eyes. Just the mother of his child. Nothing more.

At that moment, Jasper leaped off the couch, his face scrunched up in disgust.

“Mom, you look so ugly now! Like some low-class thug! Change your hair back right away, or I’ll never let you pick me up from school again!”

I met his gaze, unbothered, my expression unreadable. Seconds stretched between us before I finally spoke.

“Do as you please.”

Jasper’s lips trembled. He hadn’t expected his usual threats to fall flat. The realization sent him into a full-blown tantrum, tears, stomping, wailing.

Ava smiled gently, pulling him into her arms.

“Jasper, don’t cry. If you keep crying, Auntie will feel heartbroken. If you want, I can pick you up from school instead.”

Jasper sniffled, touched by her kindness, and threw himself against her.

“Aunt Ava, you’re the best! I wish you were my mom.”

Then, he turned, glaring at me with resentment.

“Unlike some people, who only care about themselves and completely ignore their responsibilities as a mother. So selfish.”

Hugo’s sharp gaze softened the moment it landed on Ava. His voice, once cold and cutting, turned warm, indulgent.

“I’ve been busy with work and haven’t had time to take care of Jasper. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Ava’s cheeks flushed instantly. She lowered her gaze, feigning modesty.

“You’re too kind. If it weren’t for you taking me in, I might be homeless right now.”

A subtle warmth passed between them, an intimacy so blatant it made my stomach turn.

I watched in silence, my expression unreadable, yet a cold detachment settled deep within me.

How ridiculous. I felt like a stranger in my own home.

Could they not have waited a little longer? The wife was still here, yet they carried on as if I had already vanished.

Just a few more days, was that too much to ask?

Saying nothing, I turned and walked toward the bathroom. But the moment I stepped inside, I froze.

My towel. My toothbrush. Both were carelessly discarded behind the toilet tank like trash.

And in their place, rows of unfamiliar feminine hygiene products lined neatly on the counter.

The door swung open, slamming against the wall, and the metal hook at the top struck the back of my head.

A sharp, searing pain exploded through my skull. My vision blurred, stars bursting before my eyes.

“Audrey, could you wait a bit? Let me finish washing these clothes first.”