Chapter 2

My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely pack.

Six years of marriage, eight years of love—all coming to an end, one suitcase at a time.

I moved slowly, like every folded shirt and every pair of shoes carried a memory I wasn't ready to let go of. I still remembered the times I wore them just to make him smile. When he said, "You look great", I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.

Now everything was going into boxes—like some cruel joke I was playing on myself. So this was what people meant when they said love made you stupid.

It wasn't that I couldn't let go. I just couldn't believe how much it hurt. I'd been with Edward when he had nothing, and I'd stayed until he had everything.

We lived in a basement, lived off cheap noodles, and pulled all-nighters working on designs. I used to wrap a blanket around myself and massage his shoulders when he fell asleep at his desk.

When he was exhausted, he'd hold me and say I deserved better. When success finally came, he turned around and ran straight into the arms of the woman who'd been gone for over a decade.

"Vivian, are you really moving out?" His voice came from the stairs.

I didn't look back. I clicked the last latch on my suitcase.

I sneered, "Isn't that what you wanted? We're getting divorced. Should I wait for you to make it official before I go?"

"That's not what I meant." He frowned. "It's just for three months, that's all. She's really... she doesn't have much time left."

I finally turned to face him, calm and cold. "Then you don't have to worry. Once we're divorced, there's no need to stay in touch."

Edward's lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn't say another word.

When I walked out the front door, the wind cut through me like ice. That was when I realized just how cold this day really was.

I stood by the road, dazed for a few seconds. Where could I even go?

We had been together for five years. Every cent, every ounce of energy I had went into the company. I never once used my family's name or connections—not even when things got hard.

I thought he was my whole future. Now, I didn't even have a place to sleep.

My thumb hovered over a contact saved as "Mom".

I hadn't called that number in six years. I'd never really thought about what my stubbornness must've cost my mother all those years ago.

I hesitated for three seconds, then hit "Call".

"Hello?" The familiar, stern voice on the other end made my nose sting.

I took a deep breath. "Mom, it's me. Vivian."

There was a pause. Then her voice cracked just slightly. "Vivian, you finally called me."

"I... I'm getting divorced."

Saying those words felt like falling out of the sky into freezing water.

Before she could respond, I added, "I want to come home."

Eleanor took a deep breath, her tone firm but warm. "Your father's been angry all these years, but he never touched your room. Tell me where you are. I'll send someone to pick you up. Come home, sweetheart."

The moment she said "come home", I broke. Tears spilled down my face, one after another.

I sobbed, "Mom, I'm just so tired."

Eleanor comforted me. "Don't cry. You're a Grant, Vivian. Grants don't cry. Whatever's happened, come home. Your mother's here, and I'll handle the rest."

When the call ended, I felt hollow but strangely lighter, too.

For the first time in years, I wasn't completely alone. I'd thought I'd lost everything. But somewhere far away, a light had stayed on for me. A door had been waiting for me to walk through it again.