Chapter 2

Diana was taken aback, clearly not expecting Leslie to ask for something so simple. After a long pause, she said, "Alright. I'll send it to you along with the divorce papers once they're finalized."

Leslie politely said her goodbyes, then turned away and hung up the phone.

As she hung up, the plain ring, just a bit too loose on her finger, slipped off.

Back then, when Edward's leg was still recovering, he'd held Leslie's hand and sworn he'd never waver, that his love would last a lifetime.

But in the end, time proved stronger than memories.

Late at night, someone started banging hard on the bedroom door.

Edward, drunk out of his mind, yelled, "Leslie, open up! Let me in!"

Leslie jolted awake, the room eerily quiet. She sat on the edge of her bed, listening to the commotion outside the door.

After a while, she finally got up, pulled her pajamas tighter around herself, and opened the door. The smell of alcohol hit her like a wall.

"Leslie, my head hurts. Can you give me a massage?" Edward slurred. His tone was as commanding as ever.

Leslie stood quietly, watching him sprawled out on the bed. This time, she refused to play along. With a calm resolve, she picked up her pillow and blanket, determined to sleep in the guest room instead.

As Leslie walked by, Edward grabbed her hand. His eyes were sharp and clear. He didn't look drunk at all.

"Are you mad?" he said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "Is it because I was with her and not you today? That's why you're upset, right?"

Leslie knew Edward was provoking her, but she was too worn out to even be angry with him anymore. She pulled her hand free and said, "Go to sleep. It's already late."

The next morning, Leslie woke up to the sound of commotion in the kitchen. When she came downstairs, she saw Edward wearing an apron, awkwardly rushing to set a plate on the table.

"Morning, honey. Sit down, breakfast'll be ready in a sec," Edward said.

If not for everything that went down last night, they'd look just like any ordinary couple starting their day together.

Leslie looked at the messy, unappetizing breakfast on the table, her eyes completely emotionless.

She still remembered the first time she caught Edward cheating. She went off, making a huge scene, but he didn't say a word. He followed her home. The next morning, even though he had zero cooking skills, he still put together a bunch of dishes to apologize.

That day, Leslie was deeply moved by those burnt, blackened meals.

After that, Edward cheated on her many times, always finding new ways to do it, but one thing stayed the same. His cooking was still terrible as ever.

"Honey, don't be mad. Try my cooking," Edward said, picking up a piece of that mystery dish and dropping it onto Leslie's plate.

"Go on, give it a try," he urged. His eyes were full of anticipation.

Leslie caught the eager look in his eyes. 'He really does play the devoted husband well,' she thought.

But this time, Leslie pushed the bowl away. "You eat it. I don't want any."

Edward paused, then watched her for a while, making sure she was serious. His smile disappeared, and he stood up, his tone settling into its usual detached calm.

He asked, "If you're not eating, what's the point of me eating alone? Are we seeing Grandpa later?"

"Yeah, your grandpa called yesterday and said he wanted to see us," Leslie replied, lowering her head. 'This proud, distant Edward—that's who he really is,' she thought.

"Alright, get ready. We'll leave right away," Edward said.

He yanked off the pink, flowery apron and tossed it straight into the trash. Leslie could tell he was pissed.

On the way to the hospital, neither of them said a word. Edward drove, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Suddenly, he chuckled.

"Yesterday, I thought you'd barge in and push me and her straight into the water, so I had a few extra security guards stationed outside. Guess you surprised me by not showing up," he said.

The scenery outside the window sped by in a blur. Leslie kept her gaze fixed ahead, her voice devoid of any emotion.

She said, "Isn't this better? Wasn't it always your wish for me to act more mature?"

Edward was momentarily at a loss for words, his usual comeback faltering. He finally turned to look at her, taking her seriously for once. When he realized she was serious, his smile faded.

He said, "That's for the best. As long as you stay quiet and don't make a scene, you'll always be Mrs. Fleming. No one can take that away from you."

Edward's so-called promise felt like a tiny silver needle pricking at Leslie's heart. It was not exactly painful, but it left an annoying, crawling itch that made her feel miserable.

"Is that what you think? That I took care of you just to become Mrs. Fleming?" Leslie couldn't hold it back anymore, and the words slipped out.

But the moment the words slipped out, she instantly regretted it. Edward gave her a piercing, mocking look. "What else? Don't tell me you took care of me because you actually loved me. We're adults. Owning up to what you really want isn't anything to be ashamed of."

"That's right. If it hadn't been for the money from the Fleming family, I never would have looked after you," Leslie replied quietly.

Unrequited love was chaos only she could feel. Since he never knew from the beginning, there was no reason for him to ever find out now.

Edward listened, and something he couldn't quite name twisted in his chest. The silence in the car was thick, then he floored the accelerator.