She Faked Her Death And Became His Unreachable Ex-Wife

Synopsis

"Edward, are you not coming home tonight?" I asked. There was a brief silence on the other end, then came the clatter of keys and a woman's voice in the background. Her voice rang out, clear and sharp, talking about some structural model, a bunch of technical jargon that went right over my head. It was Julia Snow. She was Edward's most trusted partner, and the one woman he could never forget. "It's crunch time on the project. I'll be working through the night," Edward replied. His tone was so flat; it was as if he were updating a client. I pressed my nails deep into my palm, the pain quietly crawling up my nerves. "Edward, today is our third wedding anniversary," I said. On his end, the typing suddenly stopped. For a moment, there was silence, then the typing resumed, faster and more chaotic than before. "Claire, once the project's done, I'll surprise you at the celebration party," Edward said. It was always about the project, the celebration party, and Julia. My chest was so tight. I felt like I was suffocating, couldn't catch a breath, and couldn't let one out. For three years, I had been bombarded with the same words. Projects, meetings, Julia... I gave up my place to study at a top art school abroad. I put down my paintbrush and threw myself into the kitchen. I learned to be the forever-gentle Mrs. Sterling standing behind him. I always believed that everyone was warm-blooded, that even the coldest heart could be thawed if one tried hard enough. But now I understood; ice only numbed one's hands, and when it melted, it slipped away, leaving one with nothing but empty fingers.