Chapter 1

The day I was discharged from the hospital, I heard lively chatter echoing from inside the house when I stood at the front door.

"Wayne, if you hate Lydia so much, why not divorce her?" one of his friends asked with a sneer.

Wayne Miller clicked his tongue impatiently.

"My mom said only Lydia is allowed to bring up divorce. If I do it, she'll give the company away. God knows what kind of spell she cast on my mom," he snapped, his tone filled with irritation.

Naomi Stewart chimed in, saying, "Mr. Miller, she's clearly just after your money."

Her comments were quickly met with a round of agreement.

Instead of lingering at the doorway, weeping silently like I once would have, I pushed the door open and walked in without hesitation.

My appearance made the lively living room fall deathly silent in an instant.

Wayne shot me a glare. "What a buzzkill. It's Naomi's birthday today. Don't ruin the mood."

Dozens of eyes locked on me, eager to watch me plead and make scenes like I always did. My pain from Wayne's cruel remarks had long been their sole source of entertainment.

But today, they were in for a letdown.

"Alright," I muttered. Then, I walked straight to the bedroom, closing the door behind me.

My gaze drifted to the photo sitting on Wayne's nightstand. In it, his arm slung around a woman's shoulders, his smile radiant. It was his first love.

That photo had been there since the day I moved in after our wedding.

I had once accidentally knocked it over while cleaning, and Wayne had lashed out at me like I had committed a crime.

As I lay on the bed, a call came in from Wayne's mother, Talia Brooks.

"Lydia, are you really leaving Wayne?" she asked.

"Mrs. Miller, you know I stayed with him only out of gratitude. He has moved on from that incident, and there's no reason to keep this going," I replied.

Talia's sigh echoed from the other end of the line. "What a shame. I'll transfer the money I promised to your account shortly."

I stared blankly at the photo on the nightstand.

I had lied to her. It was never just about gratitude. But six years had shown me the truth—Wayne would never love me. More importantly, I was tired now.

After a brief pause, I responded, "Thank you."

It was time to leave. Time to start living for myself.

Just as I ended the call, the bedroom door swung open. Wayne walked in with Naomi in his arms.

"Change the sheets," he ordered. "It's raining, so Naomi's staying the night."

Sparing me a fleeting glance, Naomi feigned concern.

"It's alright, Mr. Miller. I'll go home. I wouldn't want to upset Ms. Campbell."

Wayne shot me a glare and demanded, "Hurry up and change them. Stop wasting time."

Looking at Naomi, whose features were uncannily similar to the woman in that photo, I remained silent.

If she could bring him joy, my absence wouldn't bother him at all. From now on, we would each go our separate ways.

Naomi leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

He then turned to me and said, "You don't have to move out. I'm used to you being around. Just pick a room."

The familiar sting of condescension laced every word, but I didn't so much as flinch.

With both of them watching, I walked over to the dresser, pulled out a box of condoms, and handed it to them.

"We're still legally married. A pregnancy wouldn't reflect well on the company," I stated.

Wayne blinked at the box in my hand, momentarily stunned.

I shoved it into his hands and walked away without looking back.

…

I had just settled into the guest bedroom when an email notification chimed.

"Ms. Campbell, we are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into our Jewelry Design program. Please report in at your earliest convenience."

A small smile tugged at my lips as I read those words.

The next morning, just as I got out of bed, I spotted Wayne's assistant waiting in the living room.

Noticing the folder on the table, I said, "Go ahead if you're in a hurry. I'll get his signature for you."

Hesitation flickered across his eyes. After checking his watch, he handed me the folder and left in a rush.