POV : Arrabella

“You know exactly what I sacrificed when I left our wedding altar three years ago, Michael.”

It was Sophia Muller’s voice, low and smooth, drifting between the clinking of crystal glasses and the lively strains of classical music in the main hall of St. Jude Orphanage, Chicago. Outside, the autumn rain washed over the large glass windows, creating blurred reflections of light.

So she had finally returned.

I stood less than two meters behind a marble pillar, gripping a silver tray holding two glasses of champagne. My breath caught in my throat.

“I never asked you to give up anything, Sophia,” replied Michael, my husband.

His deep voice still managed to make my heart flutter, just as it had more than a decade ago when we used to curl up together on the wooden floor of this orphanage, sharing a piece of bread beneath a thin blanket. After all, the three of us had grown up together in this orphanage since childhood.

“I did it for Ara!” Sophia sighed. Her slender, well-manicured fingers casually adjusted the collar of Michael’s velvet suit—a gesture so intimate, so familiar, as though the three years between them had never existed.

“I already considered her family. I knew the way she looked at you every time you rescued me from those delinquent kids in the orphanage hallways. When you were taken back by the Cooper family at sixteen and became their heir, I knew the distance between us would only grow because you were busy learning the family business. And you know what? The night before our wedding... I saw Ara crying while hugging your shirt in the storage room behind the orphanage.”

Sophia paused, staring directly into Michael’s eyes, dark as the night itself.

“I didn’t leave only because of the agency contract in Europe, Michael. I left because I knew Ara loved you. I gave my place to her when she begged me to let you go for her. I refused, but she threatened to end her own life. I was truly put in an impossible position at the time. While I was heartbroken, that opportunity suddenly came. Now I’ve returned to take back what should have been mine. I realized that I can’t forget you, Michael. And surely now, you’re going to divorce her, aren’t you?”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

An old wound I had tried so hard to bury suddenly split open and bled once more.

'What an impeccably crafted lie, Sophia,' I thought bitterly, forcing back the smile tugging at the corner of my lips.

Three years ago, Sophia left purely because of a golden contract from a top modeling agency. She never sacrificed anything for me. Instead, she took advantage of foolish me, kneeling and begging me to wear her wedding dress. Because if I refused, there was a possibility that the Cooper family would destroy our orphanage after their bride ran away. I accepted not because of selfish desire, but because I wanted to save the home of our younger orphan siblings while also hiding a foolish sliver of hope that the man I had loved since childhood might one day look my way.

I opened my eyes just as Michael curved his lips into a faint smile—the same ambiguous smile he usually wore while negotiating business deals worth hundreds of millions of dollars.

He neither agreed nor denied her words.

He simply allowed Sophia’s hand to remain on his chest, letting her feel victorious.

For me, Michael’s silence was more than enough.

If he truly loved me, he should have brushed Sophia’s hand away and corrected every accusation she had made. But he did not.

To Michael, I was probably nothing more than a comfortable part of his routine after reclaiming his position as the heir of Cooper Group.

For three years, I had almost forgotten that I was merely a substitute.

Michael’s attention had made me foolish enough to imagine that one day he would truly choose me.

It turned out I had only been borrowing a happiness that had never belonged to me in the first place.

Watching their closeness at the orphanage charity gala that evening, I finally understood.

Michael had never rejected Sophia.

He was simply waiting for me to realize my place and leave on my own without being asked.

I slowly turned around, set the silver tray on the nearest serving table, and walked through the crowd of elegantly dressed guests without saying goodbye to anyone.

I returned to the Cooper residence alone.

The mansion, which usually felt warm and filled with our shared laughter, suddenly felt foreign and oppressive tonight.

The large clock in the central hall chimed, announcing one o’clock in the morning.

Michael still had not returned home.

I sat on the edge of our king-sized bed, clutching my evening gown that suddenly felt too tight around me.

My heart was restless, drifting between fear and the pitiful remnants of hope.

With trembling hands, I picked up my phone from the nightstand, found my husband’s name, and pressed the call button.

One ring... two rings...

My heart pounded violently.

On the fourth ring, the call connected.

But it was not Michael’s deep voice that greeted me.

“Hello, Ara?”

The voice was soft, crisp, and laced with subtle triumph.

Sophia.

The blood in my body seemed to stop flowing.

My tongue froze against the roof of my mouth.

“Sophia? Where’s Michael?” I asked, doing everything I could to keep the tremor from my voice from sounding pathetic.

From the other end of the line came the faint sound of running water, followed by Sophia’s light laugh, as though she was perfectly familiar with the situation.

“Michael is taking a shower, Ara,” Sophia replied casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. “He’s a little tired after making up for lost time. So he decided to rest here.”

A tear I had been holding back finally escaped and slid down my cheek.

It felt as though an invisible blade had pierced straight through my chest.

“So...” My voice caught in my throat.

“Ara,” Sophia interrupted.

Her voice turned colder and sharper, though her tone remained calm.

“You know your place now, don’t you? Three years is long enough for this little act of yours. Thank you for taking good care of Michael while I was gone. But now, the rightful owner has returned.”

I immediately ended the call.

I could not bear to hear another word from the woman I had once considered a sister.

The phone slipped from my hand onto the sheets.

My body trembled violently.

I pulled my knees to my chest on the bed, buried my face against them, and finally let loose all the tears I had been holding back since the orphanage.

My sobs echoed through the vast, silent room.

I did not know what had happened over there.

But I was not a foolish woman.

It was enough for me to know that in the middle of the night, my husband was showering in the home of the woman who had once been his fiancée.

What else was there left for me to understand?

All this time, I thought...

It turned out I was wrong.

You know your place now, don’t you?

'People are right,' I thought miserably through my painful tears. 'True love will always find a way back to each other in the end. And I am nothing more than a small pebble that must be removed from their path.'

I roughly wiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to gather the last fragments of dignity that had been shattered across the floor of this room.

Three years was enough.

I would not allow myself to be discarded like worthless trash.

My gaze shifted toward the drawer of the desk in the corner of the room, where our marriage documents were kept.

My tears gradually subsided, replaced by an unbearable cold emptiness in my heart.

“Tomorrow...” I whispered into the darkness.

My voice was hoarse, yet filled with absolute determination.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll handle the divorce paperwork myself at the Civil Registry. I’ll be the one to let you go, Michael.”

POV : Arrabella

At nine o’clock in the morning, I officially signed our divorce petition.

The Civil Registry Office was still quiet when I stepped outside. The morning sun was hidden behind gray clouds, making the atmosphere feel even gloomier. The cold air stung my skin, yet nothing was colder than the emptiness now spreading through my chest. The plastic folder containing the divorce documents was clutched tightly in my right hand.

I had taken a major step.

I was not waiting to be discarded.

I was the one leaving first.

When I stepped back into the Cooper residence, silence greeted me heavily.

Quiet.

The antique clock in the central hall chimed slowly, showing eleven o’clock in the morning.

Michael still had not come home.

I let out a short breath and looked around the house I had cared for wholeheartedly for the past three years. Every corner held traces of how hard I had tried to become a good wife for him. Yet last night’s phone call—the sound of running water and Sophia’s soft laughter—had become the most definitive answer.

Michael was making up for the longing he had carried for three years.

There had never been a place for me from the very beginning.

I walked into the master bedroom, pulled a medium-sized fabric suitcase from the large wardrobe, and began packing my clothes one by one with slow, mechanical movements.

My tears had already dried.

They had been replaced by frozen determination.

Bang!

The sound of the front door opening forcefully brought my movements to a halt.

Hurried footsteps echoed through the hallway, heading toward the bedroom.

“Ara! What is the meaning of this, sweetheart?”

Dona Cooper stood in the doorway with her eyes widened in shock. Her gaze immediately locked onto the open suitcase on the bed. Behind her, Felix Siauw Cooper followed with an extremely tense expression.

I forced a faint smile, trying to hide the fragile tremor in my shoulders.

“Mom? Dad? What brings you here so early?”

Dona did not answer.

She strode toward me and gripped both of my arms, her fingers beginning to tremble. Her eyes moved from the pile of clothes inside the suitcase back to my face.

“Why are you packing your things, Ara? Where are you going?”

I lowered my gaze to Dona’s hands on my arms.

“My role is over, Mom. Michael’s first love... Sophia, has returned.”

“What do you mean your role is over?!” Felix Siauw Cooper interrupted with his deep baritone voice, which thundered through the bedroom. His firm footsteps carried him closer.

“Who told you your role is over, Ara?”

“Michael didn’t come home last night, Dad,” I said softly.

Silence instantly suffocated the room.

The room fell completely quiet, leaving only the sound of Felix’s heavy breathing.

“Sophia answered his phone,” I continued, letting the sentence hang in the air.

I took a deep breath, trying to ease the tightness in my chest.

“She said Michael was taking a shower. They spent the night together. This marriage... from the beginning, it was only an arrangement to save the Cooper family’s reputation when Sophia left. Now that she’s back, it’s time for me to know my place.”

“No! There will be no divorce in this family!” Felix shouted.

His face was flushed red with overwhelming anger. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides and stared directly at me.

“If anyone has to leave this family, it’s not you, Ara! No matter what happens, the only daughter-in-law of the Cooper family is you!”

Dona cupped my face, her eyes glistening with tears as she looked at me with deep sorrow.

“Ara, look at me, sweetheart. Let Mom ask you something... During these past three years, have you never loved my son? Was all the care you gave him fake?”

I fell silent for a moment.

My chest ached unbearably at her question.

“I love him, Mom,” I admitted in a voice barely above a whisper, hoarse from the pain that had accumulated inside me. “I’ve loved Michael since we were children at the orphanage. But loving him alone only adds more wounds to my heart. I can’t do it anymore.”

Dona shook her head firmly before turning to her husband with a sharp look.

“Dad! Call Michael right now! Tell that shameless son of yours to come home immediately!”

Without wasting a second, Felix pulled his phone from his coat pocket and dialed Michael’s number with a sharp motion.

The moment the call connected, he gave the person on the other end no chance to speak.

“Come home right now, Michael Cooper! Don’t you dare argue with me if you still consider yourself part of this family!”

Beep.

Felix ended the call without waiting for a response, his breathing rising and falling with restrained fury.

Thirty minutes passed in suffocating tension.

We were all sitting in the living room, trapped in rigid silence.

Then the sound of a car entering the driveway broke the stillness.

The front door opened.

Michael walked in with a hardened jaw.

But he was not alone.

Beside him, Sophia Muller entered with her chin raised high, dressed in a stylish burgundy gown. Her slender fingers were wrapped possessively around Michael’s arm, as though deliberately showing everyone in the room that Michael belonged to her.

“Dad? Mom?”

Michael stopped in the middle of the room. His eyes moved between Felix and Dona, who sat with expressions as rigid as stone. His brows furrowed tightly.

“What’s going on? Why did Dad order me home in such a tone?”

Sophia lowered her sunglasses slightly and offered a sweet smile that appeared forced.

“Hello, Mom, Dad. Sorry if my presence is a surprise, but I’m only accompanying Michael.”

“Take your hand off my son, you arrogant woman!” Dona hissed coldly, her sharp gaze fixed on Sophia’s hand still clinging to Michael’s arm.

Sophia flinched.

Instinctively, she tightened her grip on Michael’s arm before slowly letting go under Felix’s intimidating stare.

She stepped back half a pace and stood behind Michael’s broad back.

Michael let out a long sigh and stepped forward, trying to break the tension.

He looked at his mother with visible frustration.

“What’s really going on, Mom? Is there an urgent problem at the office?”

Michael’s calm yet ambiguous attitude made my chest ache even more.

He did not seem eager to save this marriage, yet he also did not immediately speak of divorce in front of his parents.

He simply allowed the situation to unfold, making me even more certain that I needed to end this uncertainty as soon as possible.

I rose from the sofa, breaking the silence with slow but firm footsteps.

From my shoulder bag, I took out the plastic folder I had brought from the Civil Registry Office that morning.

Michael immediately turned toward me.

His dark eyes locked onto my every movement.

There was a faint trace of confusion in them when he saw what I was holding.

I stopped exactly three steps in front of him, lifted my head, and held the folder out toward his chest.

“What is this, Ara?” Michael asked.

His voice was low, and his brow furrowed deeply.

I looked directly into the eyes that had once radiated a false warmth that made me lose myself.

“Our divorce petition, Michael,” I replied calmly, without the slightest trace of emotion.

Michael visibly stiffened.

His body suddenly tensed where he stood.

His eyes fixed sharply on the papers inside the plastic folder.

“Ara... are you joking?”

“I already signed the divorce papers this morning at the Civil Registry Office,” I continued, letting the words linger in the cold air of our living room. “Now, all that’s left is your signature.”

“What?!”

The cry of shock did not come from Michael.

It came from Sophia.

She immediately covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes sparkling with delight that she tried to hide beneath an expression of surprise.

Meanwhile, Michael remained frozen.

His eyes stared at the document in my hand in complete disbelief, as though he had just been struck by something he had never imagined would come from the lips of an Ara who had obediently followed him for the past three years.

***

Chapter 3:

POV : Arrabella

A suffocating silence spread between us.

The plastic folder in my hand still hung in the air, becoming an invisible barrier separating my world from Michael’s.

“You... want a divorce?”

Michael’s voice was low, almost like a whisper trapped in his throat.

He stared at me with eyes that were gradually darkening. There was a flash of unfamiliar anger in them, something I had never seen during the three years we had lived together under the same roof.

“Yes,” I replied softly but firmly, without looking away. “Isn’t this what you want the most?”

Michael snatched the folder from my hand with a rough jerk.

His breathing became uneven.

Instead of calmly opening the documents, his fingers tightened around the papers inside.

“Michael? What’s wrong?” Sophia whispered anxiously.

Her slender fingers reached for his arm, but he brushed her away without even looking at her.

I froze.

My eyes widened as I watched the documents I had painstakingly signed at the Civil Registry Office that morning being destroyed in Michael’s hands.

He crushed them into a wrinkled ball and threw them onto the floor without hesitation.

“What are you doing, Michael?!” Dona cried out from the sofa, rising to her feet with a shocked expression.

“I’m asking you, Ara!”

Michael stepped forward, closing the distance between us until I could smell his masculine cologne—an oddly familiar scent mixed with something foreign.

“Who gave you permission to go to the Civil Registry Office? Who allowed you to make such a foolish decision?”

I took a step back, trying to suppress the strange pounding in my chest.

I was confused.

Why was he so angry?

Hadn’t I already cleared the way for him to be with Sophia?

Why did he look like a wounded lion instead?

“Why are you angry?” I asked, my voice trembling from the pain I was trying to suppress. “My role is over, Michael. Sophia is back. The agreement from three years ago to save your family’s reputation after the wedding was canceled... has been fulfilled.”

“My role?”

Michael let out a harsh scoff.

His jaw tightened until the muscles in his neck stood out.

“You think this marriage is some kind of contract that you can end whenever you want?”

“Michael, darling, what’s wrong?”

Sophia interrupted.

Her fashionable face had gone pale and was filled with confusion.

She stared at the shredded papers on the floor in disbelief.

“Why did you tear them up? Wasn’t... wasn’t this what we talked about last night? We can be together again.”

Michael paid no attention to Sophia’s complaints.

His sharp, eagle-like gaze remained fixed on my face.

“Listen carefully, Ara. I will never divorce you. Not today, not tomorrow, and never.”

“Why?!”

My voice rose an octave, no longer able to contain the pressure burning inside my chest.

I pointed at Sophia with a trembling finger.

“Isn’t she the woman you love? Hasn’t your heart always belonged to her? Then why are you keeping me here? As a decoration? As a shield again?”

Michael remained silent.

His lips pressed into a tight line, unwilling to offer a single logical explanation for why he refused to let me go.

His absolute arrogance only made me feel more disgusted.

Just as he took another step closer, my eyes landed on the lipstick stain on his collar.

My chest tightened even more.

My head suddenly spun as last night’s phone call replayed in my mind.

The lingering heat of the night.

The satisfaction after reuniting.

Everything was vividly painted before me.

They had slept together last night, and now this man stood before me, refusing to divorce me without giving a clear reason.

How selfish.

“You disgust me, Michael,” I whispered.

The tears I had been holding back finally fell, warm against my cold cheeks.

“You came home carrying another woman’s mark on your body, and now you stand here forbidding me from leaving? Where is your conscience?”

Michael frowned and instinctively touched his collar.

A flash of panic crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a cold, expressionless face.

“Ara, you don’t understand what really happened—”

“Then what happened?!” I challenged, taking a step forward despite my fear.

“Tell me! What reason do you have for refusing to sign those papers? Which room should I prepare for the two of you in this house before you’re finally satisfied?”

“Enough, Ara! Don’t push my anger any further!”

Michael’s roar echoed through the living room.

“Michael! Watch how you speak to your wife!”

Felix Siauw Cooper finally spoke.

He rose from the sofa with commanding authority and fixed his son with a warning stare.

Dona quickly walked toward us and deliberately positioned herself between us, blocking Michael’s view of me.

Then she glanced at Sophia, who was still standing there with a mixture of irritation and confusion on her face.

“That’s enough. Let’s put an end to this meaningless argument,” Dona said coldly.

Her eyes settled on Sophia with a clear message for her to leave.

“Sophia, go home. This is a matter between my son and daughter-in-law. Let the two of them talk and settle this without outside interference.”

“But, Aunt Dona—”

Sophia tried to defend herself, her face flushing red with embarrassment at being politely dismissed.

“I said leave, Sophia Muller,” Dona cut in, leaving no room for argument.

Sophia stomped her foot in frustration and looked at Michael as though demanding his help.

But Michael did not even glance at her.

His eyes remained fixed on me from behind his mother’s shoulder.

With obvious reluctance and a sour expression, Sophia finally turned around and hurried out of the Cooper residence, the sharp clicks of her high heels echoing harshly behind her.

After the front door closed firmly behind her, Dona turned to look at me before shifting her gaze to her husband.

“Dad, let’s wait upstairs in the study. Let them straighten out this mess in their heads.”

Felix nodded slowly.

He briefly patted Michael’s shoulder with a heavy hand, as though delivering a silent warning, before following his wife upstairs.

Now the living room was silent again.

Only Michael and I remained, accompanied by the torn pieces of the divorce papers scattered across the marble floor like the remains of shattered hopes.

I took a deep breath, wiped my tears away with the back of my hand, and looked directly at the man who had bound my life for the past three years.

“Don’t keep me here if my presence only brings me pain, Michael. Separation is the best thing for both of us. You get your freedom, and I... I can start rebuilding my broken life.”

Michael stood motionless.

His clenched fists at his sides slowly loosened, but the look in his eyes did not soften in the slightest.

A long silence crept between us once again, thick and suffocating.

He kept his mouth tightly shut, refusing to reveal the reason behind his illogical refusal.

“I don’t care what you say, Ara,” Michael finally replied.

His voice was cold, flat, yet absolutely unquestionable.

He turned his back on me and started walking toward the staircase without another glance.

“I still won’t divorce you.”

I stared at his broad back as it slowly disappeared around the bend of the stairs, my heart growing colder with every second.

The storm inside this house had only just begun.

***