Chapter 2

Early the next morning, Justine was already up and dressed. She had washed up and changed into the black formal suit she pulled out last night. She looked in the mirror—at her pale face and hollow eyes—and nearly laughed. She really did look like someone going to a graveyard.

As soon as she stepped into the living room, Gavin clicked his tongue loudly. He grabbed his half-finished bowl and purposely bumped into her. The chowder spilled on her blouse, soaking through the fabric.

He smirked, his voice thick with mockery. "Disgusting."

Justine looked at the boy who used to be sweet and well-mannered but was now brash and mean-spirited. The sight filled her with a deep, quiet sorrow.

She had fought tooth and nail to give him the best—tracking down elite tutors and even standing in the pouring rain to beg one of them to take him on. She had burned with fever for three days afterward.

At the time, she thought she was paving a path for him to grow into someone kind and upright. She had no idea that a few poisonous words from Hazel could undo everything she built.

As Gavin turned smugly to leave, Justine grabbed his arm, and her voice was cold. "Apologize."

Gavin had never seen her like this—cold and firm. It startled him. But the moment passed, and he snapped back with fury, "I'm not apologizing to you! Back in the day, freaks like you were burned at the stake!"

Justine struck him across the face. The sharp crack of the slap cut through the room like a whip.

Gavin clutched his reddened cheek, staring at her in disbelief. "You hit me?"

Noah rushed in, pulling Gavin behind him. He snapped, "Why did you hit him?"

Justine withdrew her hand and shook it off casually. "Because I'm his mother. It's my job to discipline him."

Noah didn't hesitate. "You're not needed for that."

Justine let out a quiet scoff, and her voice remained detached. "Don't worry. It won't be much longer."

She looked calm and spoke evenly, yet something about her was completely unlike the woman Noah thought he knew. Noah frowned, confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She didn't answer and simply reminded him, "It's time to go."

During the ride, Justine sat in the backseat, completely silent. She didn't say a word, looking just like a stranger who was catching a ride.

Noah kept glancing at her through the rearview mirror. The longer the silence stretched, the more certain he became that she was truly angry this time. If it had been before, the loud clatter of last night would have sent her storming out in a rage. At the very least, she would have tried to make peace this morning.

But now, she hadn't even noticed that they were eating leftover food from last night. She had even slapped Gavin.

Noah remembered the image of her sitting alone in the living room when he came home last night. Something about it unsettled him.

After a moment, he reached into the glovebox. When the traffic light turned red, he grabbed a small box and tossed it into the backseat.

It hit Justine squarely in the chest. She had been resting with her eyes closed when she immediately sat up, startled.

"What is wrong with you?" she snapped.

She had been married to Noah for five years, and had endured his indifference all the time. She'd had enough of his careless, disrespectful behavior.

Noah's expression changed instantly. "That's the gift I got you, and you're seriously asking if something's wrong with me? You sent me that message about visiting my parents' grave yesterday, and now, you're acting like someone just died. Isn't this just your way of forcing an apology out of me? Well, I've apologized now. What more do you want?"

The light turned green, and he had to cut himself off and keep driving.

Justine caught a glimpse of his annoyed face in the rearview mirror. He was upset again, though she had never once asked him for an apology. As always, he projected his own assumptions onto her, then turned around and blamed her for them.

She looked down, choosing not to argue. Casually, she flipped the box open. Inside sat a diamond ring. It sparkled under the light, but it was nothing special. She recognized it as one of Tréora's discontinued pieces.

To put it bluntly, it was a rejected design that was pulled from the market right after its launch—the kind of thing people wouldn't bother to pick up off the street.

The ring Hazel wore in the video yesterday was the latest one-of-a-kind release from Tréora, a global exclusive designed to symbolize eternal, one-of-a-kind love.

It turned out that Noah's mood swings in the past five years hadn't been because of work stress or overwhelming pressure. The lack of gifts hadn't been about him "not understanding romance".

It was just that he didn't love Justine. That was it.

With a soft snap, Justine shut the ring box and tossed it to the empty seat beside her. If it was trash, she wasn't going to carry it around with her.

They were still three miles from the graveyard when Noah's phone rang. He didn't even check who it was before pulling over. Clearly, he recognized the ringtone.

Without hesitation, he answered the call right in front of Justine. "Now? But I'm supposed to…"

Whatever was said on the other end immediately made him soften. His tone melted into something almost tender. "Okay, okay. I'll be right there."

It was strange seeing that kind of warm, gentle expression on his face. Justine had never thought he was capable of it.

She crossed her arms and waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, the moment he hung up, he turned around. "Something came up. I need to swing by the office. You'll have to go to the graveyard on your own."

Justine wasn't blind. She had seen the name "Hazel" flash across his screen.

He couldn't even be bothered to visit his own parents' graves—all for a woman. What a devoted lover he turned out to be.

Justine didn't hide the sarcasm in her voice. "You're seriously planning to drop me off in the middle of nowhere while you run off and skip visiting your parents' graves? Noah, those headstones up on the hill belong to the people who gave you life. And now, on Christmas Day, you're telling me some so-called emergency at work is more important than them?"