Third Person's POV

"Your overseas assignment has been approved. You’ve got a month to hand off your responsibilities," the manager informed Aiken Gray as he handed over the paperwork. After giving some advice, the manager also commented with a knowing smile, "Anyway, I haven’t seen you this motivated since you got married, Aiken."

Years ago, when Aiken tied the knot with Chelsea Jackson, her focus had been on building her career. But the time came when her parents needed someone to take care of them. Selflessly, Aiken had turned down a major promotion to stay closer to home and care for her aging parents. Back then, it had felt like the right thing to do.

But things had changed. Chelsea didn’t need him anymore—she had found someone better to lean on—her personal assistant.

Aiken stared at the words stamped across the document in his hands: [Overseas Assignment.] This wasn’t just a career milestone; it was the final step toward the end he’d seen coming.

Forcing a polite smile, he replied, "I’d like to keep this under wraps for now."

The manager nodded, assuming Aiken’s concern was about someone else taking the opportunity. "Don’t worry. Once it’s official, nothing will change."

Aiken just smiled, thanking him without offering an explanation.

Back at the villa, Aiken wearily placed the document on the table when a familiar click of heels echoed from the doorway.

"Why aren’t you in bed resting?" Chelsea asked, stepping inside. She frowned as she concernedly remarked, "You just got over that fever."

The faint scent of a perfume he didn’t recognize hung in the air as she walked toward him. Wanting to check his temperature, she reached out to his forehead, but Aiken suddenly leaned back, dodging her touch.

"I’m fine," he murmured. "Just need to rest a bit."

Just then, his mind drifted to the time right after he graduated and started working. Back then, he braved freezing winds to deliver documents to a client, catching a cold in the process. He ran a high fever that night and wouldn’t subside. Thus, Chelsea, wearing barely enough to keep warm, had mindlessly rushed to the pharmacy to get medicine for him and even stayed up all night to care for him.

But this time, she had only sent someone over to hand him a bottle of fever-reducing pills.

Chelsea's hand froze in the midst, surprised by Aiken's sudden reaction.

Aiken plopped down on the leather sofa and looked up at her as he hoarsely asked, "Shall we have dinner tonight? I’ve already made reservations."

But she glanced at her watch and reasoned, "I'm sorry, honey. I have work to finish at the office. I just stopped by to grab something."

"But today’s our wedding anniversary," he reminded her quietly as if trying to anchor her to the moment.

However, Chelsea only leaned in, placed a quick kiss on his cheek, and smilingly replied, "We’re not newlyweds anymore, Aiken. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow—it’s the same thing."

Aiken was about to reach for her hand to talk to her when her phone suddenly buzzed, showing [Hadwin Curtis] on the screen.

His hand froze midair, but Chelsea seemed oblivious to this. She simply silenced the call, offered a brief reminder for him to eat something, and left.

Not long after, the doorbell rang. Aiken’s heart leaped, thinking she had returned. But when he opened the door, a delivery man greeted him with a cheery smile.

"Ms. Chelsea asked me to deliver this," the man said, holding out a large bouquet of crimson roses along with a beautifully wrapped cake. "Happy anniversary!"

Aiken’s throat tightened as he accepted those.

After that, the delivery man handed a sleek gift box next, saying, "She said this is a special gift—a new design from her company. She wanted you to have the first one."

Chelsea’s company was involved in multiple industries, but she particularly loved designing watches. Aiken, however, had no interest in watches and never wore them, so Chelsea shifted her focus to designing clothes instead.

"Keep the cake for yourself and toss the roses," Aiken said, his voice flat and quiet.

As for the watch, Aiken took it and forced a smile. "Tell Chelsea that I’m very happy."

Sitting on the soft, comfortable sofa, Aiken thought that if Chelsea had stayed just a little longer, she might’ve noticed the document sitting on the table.

But she hadn't.

Just then, his phone buzzed, and for the second time around, he again thought she must have forgotten something and would come back. But to his disappointment, he only found a message from an unknown number.

Curious, he opened it and a picture of Chelsea popped right in front of his eyes.

Third Person's POV

In the photo, a formally dressed man was standing in front of Chelsea. Aiken recognized him right away—Hadwin Curtis, her personal assistant.

Aiken had asked about him before. But Chelsea had just brushed it off, saying he was simply a junior from her high school who’d come to her for help after college. She’d also said she only felt obligated to take care of him.

But no “ordinary junior” would send a photo like the one Aiken had just seen.

In the picture, Chelsea wore a soft smile, her lips barely pursed as she handed Hadwin a watch. Her gaze was warm—overflowing with an affection Aiken hadn’t seen in a long time.

Aiken’s hands tightened around his phone as he blocked the sender. Only then did he also realize that the watch Chelsea handed over was identical to the one she had given him.

'So much for a “new release,”' Aiken thought bitterly. It stung him to realize that Chelsea had taken the time to give Hadwin the watch herself, while she couldn’t even stay long enough to put it on Aiken’s wrist.

Churning with anger, Aiken tossed the watch and the overseas assignment papers into their bedroom drawer. Inside were also their marriage certificate and an unsigned divorce agreement.

The days dragged on, and Chelsea didn’t come home. Each time Aiken tried to contact her, it was Hadwin who answered the phone.

“Ms. Chelsea’s busy and doesn’t have time right now,” Hadwin said smoothly, his young voice brimming with confidence.

Aiken thought back over the seven years he and Chelsea had shared. It felt like everything fresh and exciting had turned cold and stale.

"Have her check her phone. I’ve sent her messages," Aiken said, his throat dry.

But Hadwin’s answer hit like a slap. “I’ve already deleted those. As Ms. Chelsea’s husband, isn’t it inappropriate for you to distract her from her work?”

Hadwin’s audacious words revealed his true colors. Aiken found it laughable yet infuriating. “Did Chelsea tell you to butt into our personal lives?”

With one hand gripping his phone and the other braced against his desk, Aiken’s voice was harsh. Only he knew how much insecurity lay beneath the surface—just cold disappointment and pain.

Even so, Hadwin remained unperturbed. He even managed to reply with composed confidence, "Mr. Gray, do you really think I’m just her personal assistant?"

That single sentence left Aiken humiliated, forcing him to end the call.

Of course. What kind of personal assistant would act so intimately?

Aiken stared down at other photos Hadwin had sent. In it, Chelsea was buried in work, reviewing documents and jotting down notes. Every now and then, she glanced up before refocusing on her work.

But that glance—it unintentionally carried tenderness. Aiken couldn’t help but think, 'So Chelsea can look at someone else that way too.'

While Chelsea stayed away, Aiken packed a few things and decided to visit her parents. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone for his overseas assignment, and it felt like the right thing to do.

Years ago, Chelsea’s father had been beaten and left disabled over unpaid debts, and her mother suffered from mental health struggles brought on by the trauma. But during this time, Chelsea had wanted to start her business, so Aiken had stepped in to help care for them.

After Chelsea found success, she moved her parents into a nursing home, though Aiken still visited them from time to time.

"Aiken, why didn’t Chelsea come with you?" Chelsea’s mother was delighted to see Aiken, holding his hand and chatting endlessly. "I know she’s busy, but you need to remind her to take care of herself. She listens to you more than anyone.”

Aiken forced a smile. It had been years since Chelsea really listened to him.

A year ago, Chelsea had started attending frequent social events, often drinking heavily and staying overnight at hotels. Back then, Aiken had frowned and urged her to drink less.

However, Chelsea, drunk and clinging to him, had reassured him. "It’s fine."

"It’s bad for your health. I don’t want you to get hurt," Aiken had said helplessly, massaging the crease in her brow. Chelsea had taken the opportunity to grasp his hand, pulling him closer for a wine-flavored kiss.

“You worry too much. It’s good for building my tolerance," she had said, brushing it off.

Worried, Aiken had tried to offer a solution. “Next time, I’ll come with you. I’ll make sure no one pressures you to drink.”

But Chelsea had quickly waved it off. “No need. Why would you come? I wouldn’t want anyone forcing you to drink.”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Chelsea’s cold, worn-down demeanor had softened into warmth. "Your job is to stay at home and wait for me."

Third Person's POV

The second time, Aiken was greeted by Hadwin helping Chelsea home.

"Ms. Chelsea, your house is so big," Hadwin had said, his tone full of admiration as his eyes swept the room.

Aiken had stepped forward and took Chelsea from Hadwin’s grasp. He was about to thank the young man when Chelsea cut in.

"If you like it, I can arrange something for you another day."

Aiken’s brows had furrowed, but he kept quiet. Meanwhile, Hadwin had shaken his head shyly, though his gaze lingered on Chelsea with something close to awe. "No need, Miss. Just take care of yourself and drink less."

Chelsea had chuckled softly, almost indulgently. “Alright, Hadwin. Next time, you can supervise me.”

Such a doting tone had immediately unsettled Aiken. He then had asked Hadwin to leave, then took care of Chelsea, helping her freshen up.

As he had ran his fingers through Chelsea’s soft, silky hair, he couldn’t shake the memory of the admiration in Hadwin’s eyes—a feeling he couldn’t hide.

'Chelsea, you’re sharp as a blade, you must’ve noticed it, too,' Aiken had thought.

Yet the next day, she had said nothing about Hadwin.

Chelsea was never the type to forget what happened after drinking, but at that time, she had claimed she couldn’t remember a thing.

Later, curiosity got the better of Aiken, and he had checked Hadwin’s social media. That’s when he had noticed that all those business connections Hadwin had been bragging about were people Chelsea had introduced him to.

Chelsea’s mother noticed his distraction and called to him softly. “Aiken, are you alright?”

Aiken shook off the heavy feelings weighing on him and handed her an envelope.

“Mom, here. This is for you. It’s $70,000.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately shook her head. “Oh, Aiken, you didn’t need to do this. Chelsea has already given us plenty.”

“Chelsea is Chelsea, and I’m me,” Aiken replied gently. “This is just a little something from me to you.”

Chelsea’s parents had always treated him well, never looking down on him despite Chelsea’s success. They had even supported his marriage to their daughter wholeheartedly. Now, with everything going on, Aiken had decided it was time to do right by them.

With a smile, he insisted on handing over the money. "Mom, please take it. Don’t make me worry."

“You sound like you’re about to leave for good,” she said, her tone a mix of concern and resignation. Still, she accepted the money when she saw how determined he was.

Unexpectedly, Chelsea walked in just then, carrying gift bags—and right behind her was Hadwin.

“Aiken, what are you doing here?” Chelsea’s eyes lit up when she saw him, and she hurried over to link her arm with his. “I got home earlier and didn’t see you.”

"That’s right. Ms. Chelsea was quite disappointed," Hadwin chimed in, his tone ambiguous.

Aiken forced a slight smile but said nothing. He withdrew his gaze from Hadwin and silently pulled his arm from Chelsea’s grasp.

Chelsea frowned, visibly unhappy with his reaction, and reached out to grab his hand again, but Hadwin’s words distracted her.

"Auntie, what’s that you’re holding? It looks like such a fancy envelope," Hadwin asked curiously, placing the gift bags aside to get a better look.

Aiken’s heart tightened. He wanted to change the subject, but Chelsea’s mother answered before he could.

"Aiken gave it to me."

"What's going on with you? Why are you giving Mom money out of nowhere?" Chelsea looked at Aiken inquisitively, sensing that something wasn’t right.

“The bank notified me about a deposit maturing, so I withdrew it,” Aiken explained, unwilling to make a scene here. He wanted to resolve things with Chelsea in private and end their relationship with dignity.

"Really?" Chelsea was skeptical, though unease began to creep into her heart. Recently, Aiken’s unusually quiet demeanor had been unsettling.

"Take it back," she said, unable to calm her growing irritation. Then, she grabbed the envelope from her mother and shoved it back into Aiken’s hands.

"I’ll transfer the money to you later, Mom," Chelsea said softly.

Aiken sighed quietly. It seemed he’d have to try again another time.