Chapter 1

When Julian slid the divorce papers across the table, he didn't even bother to look up.

He kept his eyes down, quietly reviewing the documents, his tone so indifferent it was as if we were just talking about an ordinary contract.

"Sylvia, you've stuck by me for three years. If you want any compensation, just let me know," he said.

I watched his slender, pale fingers and suddenly caught a faint trace of woody cologne lingering on his cuff.

It wasn't the scent of the laundry detergent I always used.

That scent was proof enough—Violet had been here this afternoon.

The living room was almost unnaturally quiet. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the night pressed in, heavy and silent, while the warm yellow lamp on the table illuminated the divorce papers, making every word stand out.

I lowered my gaze and saw Julian's name already signed at the bottom of the last page.

The signature was crisp and cold, just like him.

Three years of marriage, and even the divorce was handled with his usual grace and decisiveness.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Rachel sat off to the side, sipping her coffee with obvious impatience. "Sylvia, Julian is already being more than generous by offering you compensation. You've been married into the Dyer family for three years and haven't really contributed much. At least have the decency not to make a fuss."

I looked up at her.

She'd put on a dark dress today, her hair perfectly styled, like she'd been preparing to send me away all along.

That was true, too. Violet had come back.

The daughter-in-law Rachel always wanted—Violet Murphy—was finally back.

I suddenly found it a little funny.

After all these three years, no matter how hard I tried, to them, I was nothing more than someone they were just settling for.

Julian finally lifted his eyes to meet mine, as if he'd been waiting for this moment.

His gaze stayed cool and steady, like he was watching a child sulk, fully expecting I'd give in sooner or later.

"Just tell me what you want—house, car, cash, whatever," he said.

I stared at him for a long moment, my voice barely above a whisper as I asked, "Are you really going through with this?"

Julian frowned, like he was tired of me asking questions I already knew the answer to.

"Sylvia, Violet's back," he said.

That one sentence said it all.

It turned out that not even an explanation was needed.

In his eyes, I should've known all along—it was my turn to make room.

I clenched my fingers, feeling my palms grow cold, but with my throat stuffed full of cotton, I couldn't get a single word out.

Honestly, there was nothing left to ask.

This afternoon, I saw Violet outside his office building, fixing his tie for him.

She looked up at him with a gentle smile, her eyes soft, just like the girl in that college graduation photo he used to keep tucked away in his books.

And there I was, sitting in my car with the stomach medicine I'd brought for him, quietly witnessing it all.

Even then, I knew this day would come sooner or later.

I just didn't expect it to come so soon.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and reached for the divorce papers.

Seeing that I finally knew my place, Rachel's tone eased a bit. "That's how it should be. Above all, a woman should keep her dignity. Rest assured, once you leave the Dyer family, we'll make sure you're taken care of."

He wouldn't treat me unfairly?

I nearly burst out laughing.

Three years ago, when Julian's company was on the brink of collapse, I swallowed my pride and persuaded my Grandfather to secure that life-saving investment from Starlight Capital.

Two years ago, when Rachel suffered a sudden stroke, I stayed at the hospital for three days and nights, couldn't even trust the nurses to look after her.

A year ago, when the deal between the Dyer Group and Prosperway Group was deadlocked, I worked every angle I could, making connections and paving the way, just so the project could finally move forward.

They never knew any of it.

Or rather, they never even bothered to know.

To them, I was just some ordinary woman who got lucky and married into the Dyer family.

Everything I did was just taken for granted.

Any hurt I felt was just seen as me being overly sensitive.

When I left, they wanted it to be quiet—no drama, no scene.

My phone buzzed softly in my hand.

I glanced down and saw a message pop up on the screen.

It was a text from Xander Hurst. [Board meeting's set for next Monday. Looking forward to seeing you back.]

I stared at it for a couple of seconds, then turned off the screen, my face blank.

Julian noticed what I did, his eyes lingering on my phone. His brow furrowed, barely noticeable.

"Who was that from?" he asked.

I looked up at him, keeping my voice steady. "Is that any of your business anymore, Julian?"

The air went still for a moment.

Rachel's expression soured. "What kind of attitude is that?"

Julian's gaze hardened, clearly not expecting me—always so quiet—to answer him like that.

But soon enough, he slipped right back into that indifferent look.

"Just sign it. There's no point in dragging this out," Julian said.

Yeah, it didn't mean anything anymore.

I took the pen, and as the tip touched the paper, my fingers trembled ever so slightly.

It wasn't because I couldn't bear to let go.