Chapter 3

"Owen, do you really have to draw such a hard line?" Mandy asked.

I replied, "Since we're over, let's make a clean break."

I pulled open the drawer and found our marriage certificate inside. I stared at that red certificate for a few seconds, then buried it deep at the bottom of the box.

Suddenly, Mandy rushed over and slammed her hand down on the box, stopping me.

"Owen, can we talk? I think there's been a misunderstanding between us," Mandy said.

"A misunderstanding?" I let out a bitter laugh. "Mandy, we've been married five years, and every single year, my birthday wish has been just hoping you'd spend more time with me. And you?

"The first year, you said the company was just starting out. The second year, you said you had to chase your sales targets. The third year, you said you needed to take a course. By the fifth year, you didn't even remember my birthday. Is that what you call a misunderstanding?"

Mandy opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her face went pale.

"I... I was doing it for our future," she said.

I replied coldly, "No, you were doing it for yourself. You just got used to me always being there, always waiting for you. You thought I'd never leave, so you took my love for granted."

I pushed her hand away and went back to sealing up the box.

Mandy said, "But I'm really hurting right now, Owen. I haven't slept well these past few days. Every time I close my eyes, I see you leaving with your suitcase. Without you, this home feels freezing like a dungeon."

Mandy's voice trembled as she reached for my sleeve, desperate to hold on.

I paused and looked at her. She hadn't bothered with makeup today, and her eyes were shadowed with fatigue. She looked so fragile. It made my heart ache. If it were before, I would've dropped everything to comfort her.

But now, all I felt was drained.

"If you're cold, put on more clothes, Mandy. No one can keep you warm forever," I said.

I taped up the last box and carried it to the door.

Mandy followed me, her gaze lingering on the half-empty bookshelf and the bare spot in the living room where the rug used to be. Her eyes grew red with tears.

Mandy said, "Where are you going to live? Do you have enough money? If you need help, I can arrange a driver to help you move..."

I cut her off. "Mandy, no need. I've saved enough over the years to get by. Take care of yourself from now on."

As I closed the door, I saw her through the gap. She collapsed onto the floor, her hair covering her face.

I got into the elevator and headed downstairs.

My new place was in an old neighborhood. It wasn't as big or luxurious as my previous home, but when I opened the window, I could see the warmth and bustle of everyday life down below.

I lay on the bare bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Back in that mansion, I always felt suffocated, like the air was filled with Mandy's ambition for success. Now, that longing was gone.

But there was still a gaping hole in my heart, letting the chill in. And no matter what I did, I couldn't fill it.

A month after the divorce, we bumped into each other in the lounge of a business hotel.

I was there talking business for a new project, while she was invited as an industry rep for the ribbon-cutting ceremony.

Mandy was still as stunning as ever, standing under the spotlight. There wasn't a single flaw in her smile or manner. I lingered in the corner, watching her become the center of attention among a crowd of men in sharp suits.

Once the ribbon-cutting was over, Mandy caught sight of me in the crowd.

She broke away from the group and headed straight for me. Suddenly, I felt everyone's attention shift to us.

"Owen, you're here too?" Her eyes sparkled with surprise.

"Just here for business," I replied, gesturing with my briefcase, keeping my tone polite.

"How's it going? If you're working with Stable Construction, I can talk to their CEO for you. We're pretty close," she said, trying to prove she could still help.

I replied, "No need, Mandy. I want to handle it myself."

Her eyes clouded over, that familiar look of disappointment she always had when things slipped out of her control.

Mandy asked, "Do we have to draw such a hard line between us? Even if we're not together anymore, can't we at least be friends?"

"I can't be friends with my ex-wife," I said, blunt as ever.

Mandy bit her lip. She was dressed in a crisp white business suit, looking sharp and a little cold. As she stepped closer, that familiar hint of her perfume hit me.

It was the scent she'd worn for five years, the one I used to crave, the one that always made me feel at home.

"You've lost weight," she said, reaching out as if to touch my face, but stopped halfway and let her hand drop.

"You have too. Try to get some rest," I replied, keeping my tone distant and polite.

That kind of polite distance stung her way more than any fight ever could.

Just then, a man walked over and naturally took his place beside Mandy.

"Mandy, what are you doing over here? There are a few friends who want to meet you," he said.

He was young, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, with a smile that could light up a room.

Mandy's face froze for a second, and she glanced at me nervously, as if she was afraid I'd misunderstand.

"Calvin, this is Owen," she said, her voice faltering.

Calvin Walker.