Chapter 5

After Analia's death, Brentley went completely off the rails. He nearly beat that rich kid to death right there on campus.

In the video that made its rounds online, Brentley's face was burning red, his eyes crazed and twisted as he let out an agonized, beast-like scream.

This wasn't the calm, collected Brentley everyone knew—this was a man heartbroken beyond measure, shattered by the loss of the woman he loved.

But since both sides had powerful families, the whole drama just got quietly buried and no one talked about it anymore.

After that, Brentley turned into a tech tycoon—filthy rich beyond anyone's wildest dreams. He ruthlessly destroyed that rich kid's whole family, wiped out everything they had, until they went bankrupt. In the end, the guy himself couldn't take it and jumped to his death.

I pieced all this together from all the rumors swirling around—and from Brentley's own confessions to me.

Kids like Brentley and me, born into families with high expectations, were raised from day one to be the heirs—trained to plan before we act, to think three steps ahead, to weigh every gain against the cost. We lived our lives with icy clarity and cold-blooded rationality.

So it was honestly hard for me to imagine him going completely off the rails like that.

I was never the type to get involved in campus events, and after Analia died, I kept my distance from Brentley—so much so that we didn't even have those awkward hallway run-ins.

Being raised to weigh every cost and payoff, I wouldn't let myself get lost in feelings for someone so impossible.

Pride and self-respect wouldn't let me fall for a guy who was still hung up on someone else.

After graduation, our families arranged a matchmaking meeting between us. Sometimes I wonder, was it destiny giving me a second chance—or just fate toying with me?

The day he finally laid everything bare, Brentley said, "She's gone, and everyone who hurt her has faced justice. From now on, I want to start living for myself. Bethany, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

His eyes met mine—soft, burning, determined, and full of honest affection. I couldn't help but feel my resolve waver—who could ever resist that kind of gaze?

Promises were always beautiful, but they shattered all too easily.

He truly was the brilliance of my youth, and I was utterly captivated by him.

But throughout these years of marriage, sometimes his sweet gestures would melt my heart—and other times, when he spaced out, I'd feel totally crushed inside.

It got to the point where I was obsessively picking apart every little thing, like checking sales reports, trying to see if he really loved me, and how much of that love was actually real.

But feelings weren't some business transaction. It was not like I could crunch the numbers and expect my love to be paid back in full, just because I did all the math.

I never thought I'd end up trying to measure myself against someone who's no longer here.

The living could never truly outshine the dead.

It was a fight I was bound to lose—and honestly, it just didn't matter.

No need to make things harder for myself. There was no such thing as perfect love. Expecting too much was just picking a fight with my own peace of mind.

Honestly, it was just not worth it.

I never tried to replace Analia in his heart, and I never saw myself as her substitute.

And whenever he found himself missing her, I always stepped back and gave him the freedom to hold on to those memories.

But it honestly blindsided me when he went out and found a girl who looked just like Analia—a total stand-in for his lost love.

Or maybe that was just how it went with men over thirty—always chasing after younger girls with fresh faces.

I couldn't really say for sure.

I told him I wanted to stay at the old house for a few days and just be by myself.

He didn't argue—just quietly let me go, respecting what I needed.

I had my lawyer prepare the divorce papers ahead of time.

Brentley was off on yet another business trip.

Before Brentley could even tell me, I'd already heard about the divorce from Harriet.

She posted on X: [Headed to the northeast—just how warm do I need to dress over there? If I wear anything too thin, someone's just going to give me that frowny face again.]

While he was away, I methodically packed up every item of mine from his house.

Luckily, with my work keeping me busy all these years, I never really got attached to material things—except for my bracelets.

The housekeeper worked fast, and even so, it still took several suitcases to pack everything up.

The drawers in the walk-in closet were filled with bracelets of every shape and style.

In the corner sat a brand-new one—probably the gift he picked up for me that day when he came home.

It was gorgeous, catching the sunlight and shimmering with a deep, emerald green glow.

I left it behind.

I only took the ones I'd bought for myself.

The wedding photo still hung there all alone on the wall.

The woman in the frame, with that faint smile looking into the camera, felt so distant—like a stranger staring back at me, not myself at all.

On the day of our wedding photoshoot, I was worn out from teetering around in heels for hours. That night, when we got home, Brentley awkwardly—almost hesitantly—offered to give me a foot massage.

I still remembered him lowering his gaze as he sat on that little stool, his long lashes casting delicate shadows beneath his eyes. He looked so focused and strangely gentle, like he was seeing me in a whole new light.

When we picked up our marriage license at the Registry Office, it never truly felt like a promise of forever.

But in that moment, as he worked my aching feet and looked up to quietly ask if it was comfortable, I genuinely believed he married me with his whole heart—and that he'd really care for me, all the way to the end.

"Miss, do you want to take this with you?" the housekeeper asked.

I traced the edge of the frame, staring for a moment. "Wouldn't it be kinda weird to just cut myself out? Forget it, just leave it there."

Let it sit for whoever comes next, or just chuck it out.

Once all trace of me was gone, the house felt even emptier than before.

Thinking about Harriet's sweet, cozy style she always shows off on X, I wondered if there was a new woman here, the whole place would end up with a totally different vibe.

While Brentley was away on his business trip, I didn't reach out to him at all.

But he still messaged me every day, just making sure I was doing alright, tossing in sweet words or little bits of advice to cheer me up.