Chapter 2

"Are you sure you want a divorce?"

Lachlan's mother took a light sip of her coffee and set down her cup.

Her proud eyes swept over me repeatedly, oozing disdain at every turn.

She had always looked down on me—before and now.

"Yes."

My tone was firm. "I remember you said before that as long as I agreed to divorce, you had a way to process it.

I refused then, but now I've changed my mind.

I want to divorce Lachlan as soon as possible. When can it be finalized?"

"One month."

She said it casually, as if about to say something more.

I cut her off. "Don't worry. After divorcing Lachlan, I won't take a single penny from the Foster family."

A hint of surprise flashed in her eyes.

I said nothing more and got up to leave.

The moment I stepped out of the Foster estate, for the first time in three years, my heart felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

I opened my phone screen. On the lock screen, a sunny, smiling young man immediately came into view.

Alden, if only you hadn't jumped in to save him back then.

Would we be the happy ones now?

But at least now, everything is about to end.

My chest filled with grievance and bitterness. I took a deep breath and closed the lock screen.

I strode forward with determination.

But after only a few steps, the sound of car tires scraping against pavement came from behind.

I looked up to see a black Maybach steadily parked at the Foster estate entrance.

The car door opened, and a pair of elegant designer shoes stepped out.

It was Chloe Warren.

She walked around to the other side and skillfully hooked her arm through Lachlan Foster's.

The two walked toward me, chatting and laughing.

Instantly, I froze in place, my blood flowing backward through my entire body.

Actually...

Right after Alden left this world saving Lachlan, Lachlan was exceptionally good to me.

He would spend entire days by my side, trying every way possible to cheer me up when I was sad.

He even violated his family obligations and married me against everyone's opposition—me, a woman who could offer no help to his career or family—all to take care of me.

He would light up an entire city with fireworks for my birthday.

That day, beneath the sky full of fireworks, he stood at the top of the city with a ring and proposed to me.

He said, "Sienna, I know you're heartbroken over Alden's passing. From now on, let me take his place in caring for you. Give me a chance, Sienna."

When he loved me, even my slightest frown would make him terribly anxious.

But at some point, I don't know when, his attitude toward me began to turn cold. All he talked about was finance, economics, and stocks—subjects I knew nothing about.

He began to find my interests tiresome. He would say, "Sienna, you're Mrs. Foster now. Stop obsessing over these lowbrow things. Otherwise, as your husband, I'll just feel embarrassed."

The day he said that, I was stunned for the longest time.

I didn't follow Alden's advice to never compromise myself in any relationship. Instead, to get closer to Lachlan, to bridge the distance between us, I began clumsily trying to please him.

I learned about his interests, read those difficult, obscure books just to have common topics with him.

But whenever I tried to start a conversation with him, he would impatiently cut me off.

He said, "Sienna, some things—if you're born knowing them, you know them. If you're not, you don't. Your clumsy imitation and acting only make you look more pathetic."

To this day, I can't forget the cold expression on his face when he said those words.

And the way my heart throbbed with pain.

But I still didn't give up.

I told myself it was normal for him to be colder than others—he was born privileged, a child of heaven.

Until Chloe Warren suddenly returned from abroad.

Until I saw him break his longstanding rule of never accepting media interviews, doing one just for her sake, letting her tease him on camera.

Around Chloe, Lachlan was no longer an unmelting glacier.

His gaze toward her was full of affection.

The media said they were made for each other, a perfect match.

And I, in this relationship, officially went from being an unacknowledged Mrs. Foster to becoming background decoration.

I could only leave.

I forced myself to look away from the seemingly perfect couple in the distance and turned to go.

Suddenly, a sweet, delicate voice called from behind.