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.

Third Person's POV

"Make sure you take these supplements," Chelsea's mother said warmly. She wasn’t one to fuss over money; all that mattered to her was her daughter’s success. Although, a soft sigh escaped her as if she carried a hint of regret. “The ones you and Hadwin brought last time, I haven’t even finished those yet.”

Aiken’s fingers froze mid-motion. He thought Chelsea hadn’t visited in a long time, but it turned out she had—just not with him.

A dull ache quickly rose in his chest, leaving him breathless. As he tried to steady his breath, he watched Chelsea’s mother reach out and clasp Hadwin’s hand like he was family.

“Hadwin, how old are you now?” she asked, her tone motherly and warm. “Do you have a partner? If not, do you want Auntie to introduce you to someone?”

Aiken noticed Chelsea’s face change at her mother’s words. She quickly turned her head and spoke nervously, “Mom! Why are you playing matchmaker like this?”

Hadwin, however, didn’t seem bothered. He just smiled faintly, almost shyly, as he answered, “No need, Auntie. I already like someone.”

His words left everyone momentarily stunned. But Aiken’s fists tightened. Not wanting to hear what Hadwin might say next, he immediately stood up and excused himself. "I’m not feeling well. I’ll head back first."

He couldn’t bear to stay and feel the weight of the humiliation any longer.

“But we still have dinner plans,” Chelsea reminded him, catching his arm as he brushed past her. Her expression then softened into something hopeful. “Remember? I’m making up for missing our anniversary dinner.”

'Anniversary dinner?' Aiken thought bitterly. Their anniversary had passed over two weeks ago. Yet, when he met her eyes, she looked so much like the woman he had fallen in love with—bright, expectant, and full of life.

Years ago, Aiken had promised her he would always make her feel cherished. Even now, with his heart heavy, he couldn’t bring himself to break that promise.

"Alright," he gave up, thinking it would be their final meal together. Once it was over, he would pull out the divorce papers hidden in the drawer.

Smiling faintly, Aiken reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. Chelsea closed her eyes, leaning into his hand with a contented sigh.

"Aiken, you always take such good care of me," Chelsea murmured.

The words cut him deeply. Chelsea had drained every last bit of love he had to give. He knew, without a doubt, that he would never love anyone again in this lifetime.

When the meal ended, Hadwin brought up the restaurant they were going to.

"The desserts there are amazing. Ms. Chelsea specifically looked into it," he said casually.

Aiken couldn't help but find Hadwin’s remarks both amusing and ironic, especially when Chelsea lightly held his hand and said, "I heard that too. I wonder if they're as good as people say."

With a small smile, she added softly, "If they are, we’ll come back next year."

'Didn’t you already come here with Hadwin?' he wanted to say but stayed silent.

When they arrived, Chelsea led Aiken out of the car, motioning for Hadwin to join them.

“Hadwin told me earlier there’s no one at his house tonight, so he wanted to join us for dinner,” Chelsea explained gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll let him have his own table so we won’t be disturbed.”

Aiken noticed that Chelsea was being cautious, trying to be considerate of Aiken’s emotions. But he wanted to tell her there was no need because whatever calmness he had left shattered at that moment.

“Let him sit with us,” Aiken said coldly. "It’ll save you both the trouble."

With that, he pulled his hand free from hers and walked ahead into the restaurant without looking back.

Chelsea froze as she stared dwon at her empty hand. Panic quickly welled up in her chest, so hurried after him, grabbing his hand again.

“Aiken, are you upset?” she asked anxiously. “If you are, I’ll ask Hadwin to leave.”

Aiken glanced at Hadwin, who stood nearby, his expression stiffening noticeably.

“It’s fine,” Hadwin said quietly, his voice carrying an air of wounded innocence. “You two enjoy your meal. I’ll just head home and have some instant noodles.”

Aiken scoffed internally. The young man’s tone practically dripped with self-pity, but Chelsea, of course, was quick to comfort him.

“Don’t be silly. I’ll order you something to take home,” she said, letting go of Aiken’s hand to fuss over Hadwin. “Your stomach’s weak. You can’t just eat junk.”

Hadwin nodded meekly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Alright. Thank you, Miss.”

He then glanced between them with an apologetic smile, though his words didn’t match the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry for intruding on you today.”