Chapter 5

My mom didn't spare Diana a glance. She looked at me, her gray eyes slowly filling with tears. "Olivia, the baby she's carrying..."

I walked over and took her arm, feeling her frail body trembling slightly.

"Mom, we'll talk about this when we get home. Let's get Lila out of here first," I said.

Lila came running, grabbed my mom's hand, and looked up at me. "Mom, are we going home now?"

"Yeah." I knelt to fix her flipped‑up collar. "But we'll get Grandma Margaret home first. Then I'll take you out for ice cream. Okay?"

"Okay." Lila nodded happily, clueless about all the drama going on.

I stood up. Without glancing at Edward or Diana, I supported my mom, took Lila's hand, and walked with them into the sunlight at the end of the hall.

From behind me came Diana's faint, stifled voice. "Mr. Stone, is Olivia angry with me? I'm really scared."

Edward's deep voice followed, trying to reassure her. "It's okay. This isn't your fault."

Not her fault? She tore my marriage apart, and he said she had nothing to do with it?

Rage surged inside me, yet I didn't look back.

As I stepped out of the hospital, the autumn afternoon sun slanted down onto my face. It felt warm, yet the heat never reached deep into my bones.

In the taxi, my mom kept holding my hand so tightly her knuckles turned white, but she didn't say a word.

Lila was nestled in her arms, already drifting off to sleep.

The taxi rolled through the crowded streets, the city slipping away outside the window.

I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes. Tears trickled out from the corners of my eyes, warm and salty, sliding down my cheek and into my hair. But I didn't bother to wipe them away.

My marriage was dead, at the moment I realized it was over.

The ones who destroyed it were the man I'd loved for seven years, and that pregnant woman who kept crying and apologizing.

For the three days after I got home, I felt as though I were walking on eggshells.

But on the surface, everything stayed calm.

I kept up the routine, making Lila breakfast, dropping her off at school, picking her up after class.

My mom stayed in the guest room. Every day, I checked her blood pressure, made her warm milk, and filled the silence with small talk.

But once everyone was asleep, I'd lock myself in the bathroom, turn the faucet on full blast, and bite down on a towel, crying until my throat was raw.

The face staring back at me in the mirror was as pale as paper, the dark circles under my eyes getting darker every day.

Edward didn't come home, nor did he make a single phone call. He only sent one message.

It read: [Olivia, we need to talk. I don't want things to get out of hand. We can sit down and calmly discuss the property and Lila's custody.]

I didn't reply.

On the third morning, after dropping Lila off at school, I came home to find my mom sitting in the living room, an old photo album spread out in front of her.

I walked over and saw it was Edward's and my wedding album.

In the photo, I was standing by the fountain in Central Park, wearing my white wedding dress. Edward was next to me in his black suit, one arm around my waist, the other holding a champagne glass.

He was grinning from ear to ear, every line around his eyes glowing with confidence. I was leaning into him, smiling shyly and happily.

Back then, we both thought we'd be smiling like that forever.

My mom looked up at me, her eyes red. "Olivia, what are you going to do?"

I sat down next to her and took her wrinkled hand in mine. "I'm getting a divorce. I've talked to a lawyer."

"A lawyer?" My mom blinked, surprised. "When did you..."

"Yesterday."

To be precise, it was yesterday morning.

After dropping Lila off at school, I went straight to my friend Elena Rodriguez's law firm.

She was my best friend back in college. She'd gone on to study at Liberty Law School and now she was a top divorce lawyer in Mocheston.

She was known in the business as "The Harvester." When it came to splitting assets from cheating spouses, she was ruthless, efficient, and clean.

When I called her yesterday, she merely paused for several seconds before saying, "Olivia, come see me. Bring every document you can get your hands on."

"Who did you go to?" my mom asked.

"Elena," I replied. "Remember her? She came over for Thanksgiving dinner when I was in college."

My mom nodded. She knew what kind of lawyer Elena was, what it would mean once I reached out to Elena.

She squeezed my hand. "Olivia, I support you. But are you truly ready to let go of this family?"

"Mom," I said, looking her in the eye. "Edward got another woman pregnant. He told me straight up he didn't want my baby. The moment he said that, this family was gone."

Tears rolled down my mom's face and landed on the clear cover of the photo album, blurring a small part of Edward's smiling face.

She wiped them away, closed the album, and set it aside. "I'm supporting you. Do whatever you need to do."