When Tamara was discharged, Braxton held a celebratory banquet in their home. He invited a few nutritionists to prepare various dishes.

Braxton placed a hand on her waist.

"Everyone else will only be able to eat dishes you've approved and tried. If not, they're prohibited from even touching it. Then, choose the nutritionist you like."

Braxton's gentleness no longer made her heart flutter. She allowed him to lead her into the hall. The second she stepped in, she became the center of attention.

Annalise was pushed into a corner, but her eyes were boring holes into Tamara. Once, Annalise had been the center of attention at an event like this as well. How had she fallen from grace to the point of only being allowed to eat Tamara's leftovers? If looks could kill, Tamara would've been dead.

One of the nutritionists brought out a new plate of desserts and placed it beside. Suddenly, a loud clink disrupted the peaceful atmosphere. Everyone turned around to see that a bite had been taken out of the cake in front of Annalise.

"Ms. Prescott, Mrs. Merrick hasn't tasted that dessert yet," someone pointed out.

Calmly, Annalise put her fork down and said, "My apologies. I was just too hungry."

Then, she slowly took a second piece out of the cake.

Whispers erupted around her.

"Where's this little rascal from?"

"How could she disobey the rules set out…"

"How did she even get in here?"

As everyone tensed, Tamara was overcome by exhaustion. Braxton was already hers. Did she really need to claim ownership of a cake as well?

Walking over, Tamara dismissed the onlookers by saying, "It's alright. There's no need to follow the rules so strictly. Just enjoy yourselves. I'm a little tired, so…"

Before Tamara realized what was happening, she fell into the huge cake with Annalise. When Tamara scrambled to her feet, her dress and hair were covered in sticky cream.

"What happened?"

Braxton immediately rushed over and pulled out a handkerchief to help Tamara clean up. However, he was too rough. When he wiped over the needle wound where Tamara had been given the IV drip, she let out a noise from the pain.

He stopped and turned to Annalise.

"You like the cake, right? Take the nutritionist who made this cake, then. You're forbidden from firing her. She'll finish her three year contract with you, and she's not to take a day off. I'll be watching."

The guests gasped in surprise.

"This is a Vichelin-starred foreign cook, right? How could she afford it?"

"She'll probably be sobbing every time she eats it."

"When she took a piece of the cake, she should've known that this would happen."

Annalise froze. In the end, she left with teary eyes. Tamara would've believed their act if she hadn't picked up on Braxton's concerned, longing gaze.

While Annalise couldn't afford it, Braxton certainly could.

Tamara felt as though all her strength had been sapped from her. She turned to go back and rest, but Braxton pulled her into a corner.

"Why are you getting mad at her? She's just a little hungry rascal."

"I'm not mad."

Tamara's calm demeanor set Braxton off.

"Right. You weren't mad. You just punished her on the spot."

Tamara's head snapped up. She met his glazing eyes. Any trace of the warmth he'd displayed at the banquet was gone.

"What do you mean by that? Do you think I'd intentionally pushed her into the cake with me?"

Although Tamara found it ridiculous, she tried to keep her voice level.

"Go and check the surveillance footage."

Frowning in annoyance, Braxton said, "You know I'll never investigate it when it comes to you. That being said, Tamara, don't play these tricks out of jealousy. It's very out of character for you."

Tamara stared into Braxton's eyes, studying her warped reflection. This was utterly absurd. Braxton, who'd once flown across the world just because she told him she missed him, could no longer be bothered to even hear her out.

"You don't believe me, Braxton," said Tamara softly. It wasn't a question; it was a statement. She was sure.

When Braxton's phone began buzzing in his pocket, he got into his car without looking back.

With the hosts gone, the guests dispersed unhappily.

Tamara sat back down and picked up her fork. She chewed and swallowed, repeating the motions mechanically until she could no longer stomach any of it. Rushing to the bathroom, she threw up. In the end, the pill she'd taken to regulate her emotions was flushed down the toilet as well.

The next day, Tamara only mustered the strength to get out of bed at noon. When she went downstairs, she found Braxton busy in the kitchen.

Lunch had been laid out on the table. An untouched breakfast had been pushed to the side.

Tamara didn't know when Braxton returned, nor did she care.

"Why have the nutritionists all left? If you can't decide, just hire them all. I can afford it." Braxton took her hand. His tone was fond, as though the man who'd scolded her yesterday wasn't him at all.

Tamara didn't move. She asked dispassionately, "Including the one Annalise took?"

Braxton released her hand immediately and turned to her angrily.

"How long are you going to keep this up? My patience is limited, Tamara Winslow."

In the 20 years they'd known each other, this was the first time Braxton had ever addressed her by her full name, apart from their first meeting.

The last time he'd told her that his patience was limited was when she was learning how to ride a bicycle. Back then, she kept falling into his arms. Braxton would tease her, but never once did he let go of her.

Now, anything related to Annalise could set him off at a moment's notice. He could accept Annalise's spoiled behavior, but wouldn't tolerate her questions.

Suddenly, Tamara didn't want to see him. Taking her bag, she left. As she shut the car door, she heard the sound of plates crashing onto the floor.

Tamara only went home in the middle of the night, only to find Annalise on the couch. She explained, "Mr. Merrick's going on a business trip. I'm here for work."

Ignoring her, Tamara went upstairs.

After a while, Annalise knocked on the door. "Mr. Merrick sent me to pack his bags."

Tamara flipped through her magazine. She pointed at their walk-in closet, but Annalise had already gone in.

She ran her fingers through Braxton's clothes and studied the shining jewelry in the glass cabinet, greed shining in her eyes.

Tamara acted as though she saw nothing.

When Annalise left the closet, Braxton walked in. He said coldly, "I'm heading to an island for this business trip for a few days. You can come if you'd like to."

There was a twisted expression on Annalise's face. Suddenly, the luggage by her side fell onto her legs.

"Careful!" Braxton rushed over and picked her up. He even wanted to pull her dress aside to check whether she'd been hurt.

Annalise shyly held his hand still, simpering, "Mr. Merrick, Ms. Winslow's still here."

Braxton let her go.

Without looking up, Tamara replied, "Have fun."

Annalise sighed, her relief apparent. "Ms. Winslow, don't read too much into this. Mr. Merrick and I are travelling for work."

"Hope it goes well." Her tone was not laced with any animosity, but Annalise still pouted, as though she'd gotten a scolding.

As expected, Braxton looked displeased. Grabbing the luggage, he dragged Annalise downstairs.

"We're leaving tonight."

As they drove away, Tamara took her pills and went to sleep. She dreamed of Braxton and what he was like when they'd first met.

"I don't like you anymore, Tamara. You didn't wait for me to leave school yesterday. Tamara, why did you ask him to help you get your kite? Why didn't you ask for my help? Are we going to play together tomorrow too?"

Tamara's pillowcase was soaked by her tears. In the darkness, Tamara opened her eyes.

Did Braxton dream of her too? Could he see her in his mind's eye as clearly as she did him?

On the third day Braxton was off on his business trip, Annalise began posting on social media. She uploaded pictures of herself in skimpy dresses on yachts, hiking photos with beautiful scenery, and clips of her eating at classy restaurants. Throughout everything she posted, one thing was constant—Braxton would always be in the corner of her pictures.

In her newest posted picture, she had looped her hand through his. Half of Braxton's face had been captured. They could've passed as newlyweds.

She captioned it, "Enjoying a paid holiday with my boss. Don't disturb me unless necessary."

Tamara's thumb hovered over the post, and she ended up liking it by accident.

Less than 3 seconds later, her phone buzzed. It was Braxton.

"The weather forecast says there'll be a storm tonight. Close the doors and the windows. Don't be afraid if it thunders," said Braxton. Tamara could hear the sound of waves through the phone.

Looking out, Tamara watched rain pelt the window. In the past, Braxton would've cut his business dinner short just to come home to her because she was scared of stormy nights. He would rub her feet to warm her up. In his arms, Tamara felt as though the world had gone silent. Now, she had to weather the storm on her own.

Braxton was still speaking, but Tamara couldn't hear what he was saying. Suddenly, she heard a woman's voice.

"Come here, Brax! Quick! The fireworks are about to begin. Gosh, is that my name? Is this your surprise? I love it!"

Tamara could imagine Annalise jumping happily on the beach. After some rustling noises, Braxton hung up after wishing her a good night.

Holding her phone, Tamara listened to the beeping tone interspersed with thunder. When a bolt of lightning illuminated the night sky, her tears fell like the rain outside. Her heart had numbed a long time ago, but her eyes provided an escape for any lingering melancholy.

The rain only ceased at dawn. Tamara opened the window and realized that the garden was a complete mess. The harsh winds had destroyed the roses she'd planted with Braxton when they first married. Petals were strewn over the grass.

A few years ago, she would've been heartbroken. However, considering her imminent departure, there was no point getting hung up over something she couldn't control.

Tamara unzipped her luggage and began packing. She destroyed and dumped everything that didn't fit. Carefully, she pried herself away from this house she'd shared with Braxton. However, there was just so much stuff…

Her phone buzzed with Braxton's texts.

After a dozen pictures of jewelry, he said, "I've been too harsh to you for the past few days. I'm sorry. Let's love each other better in the future. I picked out all these gifts for you myself. Do you like them? Why aren't you texting me back? I'm going to be home soon. Miss you."

Tamara didn't click into those pictures. Instead, she downloaded the surveillance footage from the office and the banquet. She wanted to prove to Braxton that she had never changed. He was the one who'd ruined their relationship.

The sun suddenly peered through the clouds, illuminating her room. Tamara took a last look at the bedroom she'd stayed in for three years.

When she left, she placed her ring and her phone on the living room table. Other than that, she left nothing behind.

Suddenly, she felt relieved that Braxton had schemed to divorce her three years ago. It saved her a lot of hassle.

Leaving the keys on the shelf, the door closed behind her for the last time. Tamara crossed her ruined garden, but felt no sadness.

Like the arrival of spring and the melting of snow, this was goodbye.