The following morning, I went to the precinct to deal with Lily's affairs. The kidnapper was still undergoing questioning—his motives for targeting Lily were a mystery, but such concerns now seemed trivial.

Lily's ashes rested in a small urn, beside a photo we'd taken when she was eighteen. Tears veiled my eyes as memories flooded back.

I carefully lifted the urn, cradling it against my chest as snippets of conversation drifted around me.

"Poor girl—caught at random by the kidnapper yelling at passersby. Such a tragic ending."

The words I overheard cut deeply, each phrase piercing through my grief-ridden heart.

"It's a tragedy. Who would've thought Officer Johnson would just leave like that, so irresponsible."

"She's taken a week off, and nobody knows why. Her hubby's sister died because of her, and her husband is as useless as they come. He can't even make a complaint."

Nobody noticed my clenched fists or the tears I was trying to hide as people briskly passed by. It seemed the world had decided I was still the pathetic husband, undeserving of Emma. To everyone, Emma Johnson was perfect—gorgeous, wealthy, not lacking anything. How could she fall for someone like me from a simple rural background?

We married quickly after I happened to save her parents during a crisis. At the time, she and Jack were breaking up. Maybe it was an act of gratitude or revenge against Jack, but either way, our marriage was hasty.

Soon after, she regretted it. She cried Jack's name when drunk, indifferent to my raging fever. She even left me alone on my birthday to meet him at the airport over a vague promise he'd made. Jack let her down, and it was me who picked up the pieces in the dead of night, bringing her home.

I loved her, loved her beyond reason, beyond sanity. I accepted her lingering feelings for Jack and the gossip that trailed me. But in the end, I lost everything. Our love was a mistake from the start.

The phone suddenly rang, Emma's voice biting and accusatory. "Where are you? How dare you disappear? Weren't you supposed to clean up? Are you even a man?"

I was silent for a moment, exhaustion washing over me. "You know Lily is dead, don't you?"

She laughed, a sharp, cruel sound. "James, you really have no limits to keep me around. Lying about your sister dying? Lily would be furious."

"Maybe she's in on it with you. You two really are despicable!"

The words stuck in my throat, leaving me speechless. It was time to accept that my love, that I fought so hard for, would never be returned. Emma never even asked how things ended. Perhaps she believed she was so above everything that it could be dismissed as jealousy. But Lily—Lily was gone, and that was a real life.

Enough. None of this matters anymore. It's time I signed the divorce papers.

When I arrived home, Emma was on her way out with Jack. She wore an elegant dress, her hand looped through his arm. She gave me a disdainful smile.

"So you do come home. Is this place a hotel, where you come and go as you please?"

I glanced at her, noting something unusual in her eyes. She'd always disliked me being at home.

Working remotely meant I was there every day, and whenever she returned from work, she'd throw her bag at me, ordering, "Get to work. Don't just laze around."

So, I quietly did the chores, hoping it would improve her mood.

Looking around, the house was a mess. Takeout boxes lay around, filling the air with an unpleasant odor. It was clear she had left it all for me to clean.

"Well, if that's what you want," I said, ready to fulfill her wish one last time.

I caught Emma's surprised look as I pulled out my suitcase and began packing. "I won't be living here anymore."

She paused, then started her mocking tirade, "Playing hard to get, are you? You really think you're so desirable? Let me tell you, without me, you're nothing."

I looked at her quietly, devoid of any former affection. Emma's face was lined with impatience, yet there was still confidence—confidence that I wouldn't dare leave her. Everyone believed it, too. She came from a wealthy family; the house and car were her contributions to the marriage. Even my monthly allowance came from her.

I was the classic "boy from the village," trailing her like a dog without principles, they said. But no one knew that I never touched the money she sent. I used my earnings to preserve my dignity.

A week ago, I sold the rights to my novel, earning a substantial sum. I had intended to share it with Emma, to show her I was no longer the useless man she thought I was. But now, I was simply too tired. I no longer wanted to offer my heart up for her to trample on.

"The divorce papers?" I asked.

Emma seemed momentarily surprised, then pulled the documents from her bag with a clenched jaw. "You're signing them? Don't worry, I'll give you everything you're entitled to. You and your Lily can go enjoy your lives."

Without lifting my eyes, I signed my name quickly. "Don't worry, I won't take anything that's not mine."

When I handed the papers back, her expression faltered, tinged with disappointment.

"Fine. You're decisive, I'll give you that. I suppose you've already found someone else," she accused.

It was clear she was angry, but I didn't care to analyze why. I had no more apologies or comfort left to offer.

Emma stormed out with Jack in tow, leaving me to pack. It struck me as odd that after five years, I had so few belongings—fitting neatly into a small suitcase. Perhaps I had never really lived for myself during those years.

As I rummaged through things, a photo slipped from the couch cushions. It was taken when I saved Emma's parents, a snapshot they had wanted to commemorate the occasion. In the picture, Emma's face was slightly petulant, young and puffed with annoyance, while my gaze stayed fixed on the face I once loved to the point of self-loss.

I had fallen in love at first sight back then. Fate had granted me a chance, only to snatch it away again.

But perhaps that's for the best. Lily's death opened my eyes. Love that cannot be forced is love better set free.

The details of the book rights hadn't been finalized yet, and a colleague suggested meeting to discuss a sequel. I decided, while staying at Lily's old rental, that it was a good idea.

I needed to live well, not just for myself but also for Lily's sake.

When I arrived at the upscale venue for the meeting, I felt self-conscious of my modest clothes amid the luxurious décor. Hesitating at the entrance, I noticed familiar figures.

Emma and Jack were heading inside, Jack voicing a concern. "James hasn't been home since then. He might really be angry this time, and it's because of me."

Emma dismissed his worry with cool indifference. "Give it a week. He'll come crawling back. He can't survive without me."

"Keep staying in the guest room; the place is mine, after all. He has no right to object."

Her voice carried across the foyer, and I heard every word clearly.

"Mr. Parker!"

A voice called out from afar, and I looked up to see Sophia, my contact for the meeting. She seemed fresh out of college, full of youthful energy, and hurried towards me.

"Sorry, my scooter broke down, so I'm late. Let's head in, Mr. Parker."

I nodded, ready to go inside, but was abruptly stopped.

"James, who is this girl?" Emma demanded, her eyes blazing with anger as she glared at Sophia beside me.

"Are you trying to get back at me? Just because I left Lily to pick up Jack, you go and find yourself a new plaything?"

So, she knew what she had done. She just never cared if it hurt me.

Emma raised her hand, seemingly ready to strike Sophia, who looked frightened. I stepped in between them, catching her hand.

"Enough, Emma. Don't go too far."

"Who I see or speak to is none of your concern anymore. We're divorced, remember? Please, leave my colleagues out of it."

Emma's lips tightened, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"How can you talk to me like this?"

It was the first time I'd spoken to her so coldly. She should now understand that I was no longer her obedient follower.

I didn't want to see her tears, which used to soften me so easily. I turned to Sophia, asking, "Are you alright? Why don't you wait for me inside?"

She nodded, assured me she was fine, and quickly entered the building.

Jack, standing by, raised an eyebrow, "I never thought you were this kind of guy, James. Emma and I are just friends, why do you have to—"

"Shut up!" Emma unexpectedly shouted at him, turning back to me with pleading eyes. "You're just mad, right? Let's not go through with the divorce. Come back home."

She quickly tore the document into pieces, her voice desperate. "I promise, I won't leave you for Jack again. I'll accept Lily."

I shook my head at her earnest attempt, "There's no point, Emma. We're done."

Once, her tears would have broken my heart, driving me to do anything for her smile. But now, I just looked at her, detached.

"You probably don't know yet, but Lily is dead. She was killed on the day you refused to negotiate with the kidnapper and went to see Jack."

"I still remember the chilling feel of her blood on me."

"So，get out!"