Chapter 2
I returned to the town of my childhood, carrying my newborn daughter with me.
Samuel, the director of the orphanage, took us in and let us stay temporarily.
I was an orphan—fatherless, motherless, abandoned in a swaddling blanket at birth, with no family at all.
The only person who had ever cared for me was Samuel.
Those first days, living in the orphanage with my daughter, were extremely difficult.
Gossip about Ronan and his first crush, Susie Williams, was everywhere online.
I tried to avoid it, but even if I opened my phone or turned on the TV occasionally, I couldn't escape it.
Rumors about them rekindling their old relationship spread like wildfire.
According to the news, Ronan and Susie had faced off in a Go match after seven years.
Ronan, known for his sharp, decisive style and love of quick victories, had played for six full hours against Susie.
Even a layperson could tell he had let her win nearly ten pieces.
After the match, Ethan Shaw—always proud and indifferent—blushed and approached her nervously, holding his chess set, asking for Susie's autograph.
When the gossip media asked about the six-year-old child Ronan had brought along, the situation turned awkward—until Ethan spoke up. "I'm a child adopted by my dad."
Ronan remained silent in front of countless cameras, effectively confirming it.
From that moment on, the fact that I had been married to Ronan for seven years, and that Ronan had been married seven years ago, seemed to vanish from public memory.
People only focused on placing bets on how soon Ronan and Susie would get back together.
Perhaps it was the overwhelming news, perhaps it was the trauma and pain of childbirth, but I developed mild postpartum depression.
My hair started falling out in clumps.
Late at night, amid my baby's endless cries, I often found myself crying uncontrollably.
I thought of my husband of seven years, of the child I had once held carefully at the tip of my heart, who had confessed he was adopted.
Fortunately, there were many children in the orphanage.
Their liveliness and energy were a natural remedy for my psychological wounds.
Their laughter and cheerfulness were like sunlight, accompanying me, accompanying my baby.
Gradually, they helped heal my mind.
I stopped constantly thinking about Ronan and Ethan.
I stopped obsessing over questions that were unsolvable—or, rather, that I had always known the answers to.
On the day of the town's start of winter, I found a job in the orphanage as a child psychologist.
I had studied psychology in college and had worked as a psychologist for a few years.
Later, after marrying Ronan, I quit my job due to pregnancy and child-rearing at his insistence.
Orphans were a high-risk group for childhood psychological disorders.
They had healed my heart, and I wanted to heal theirs in return.
Life in the town gradually settled down, and my daughter grew day by day.
When Ronan changed his number and called me again, my daughter learned to roll over for the first time.
A group of children gathered around the bed, staring in amazement and shouting with delight. "Wow, girl, you're amazing!"
I felt a surge of excitement.
I hadn't noticed that the call came from an unfamiliar number.
Then Ronan's voice came through, heavy with long-suppressed resentment. "Lily, since when did you become so irresponsible?"
It had been nearly four months since I left Seaboren.
His voice on the phone made me feel momentarily disoriented.
On the pink little bed, my daughter was giggling nonstop, entertained by a group of older kids.
I softly interrupted his scolding voice. "Ronan, let's meet in person."
There was a sudden pause on the other end.
After a moment, his tone returned to the prideful, cold voice I had known so well.
"Wasn't so capable when you left, and now you think you're ready to come back?" he mocked.
I stayed silent for a moment.
Even though he had never loved me, I had come to terms with it.
But saying a divorce aloud still felt difficult.
After a long pause, he continued, "Holding the child must be inconvenient. Should I send the driver to pick you up?"
I pulled myself back from my drifting thoughts and answered calmly, "No, not bringing the child. Just you and me—we'll meet. Talk about—the divorce."
His voice erupted in disbelief and anger. "What do you mean?"
"Because I met Susie just once?" he added.
He had left me during a difficult labor, letting me struggle through the night on the delivery bed, nearly costing both our lives.
All the while, he had refused to agree to any pain relief over the phone, disregarding my well-being.
And now he could casually say it was just one meeting with Susie.
But human hearts could grow numb.
I had survived the worst of it.
By now, I no longer felt too upset or compelled to argue with him.
I exhaled quietly, then spoke in a calm voice, "Anyway, let's divorce.
"According to the law, we should split the assets evenly. I don't want that much—I'll take thirty percent of your property."
No sentimentality. Money still had to be discussed.
My life was long, and my daughter was still young.
His anger grew even more palpable. "Lily, no one understands me like you do! It's over between me and Susie."
I could hear resentment and unwillingness in his voice.
Ronan hated me.
Even after seven years of marriage, he had never blamed me openly out of good upbringing and manners—but I knew he hated me.
He believed that seven years ago, I had schemed against him.
Eventually, even our son grew to resent me.
I didn't want to explain anything anymore.
By now, I even felt a trace of impatience.
I snapped, "Ronan, I don't care about you and her anymore. Divorce, as you wish. Just as you and your adopted son wish."