Chapter 3

Noah's expression darkened at Justine's sharp words.

He snapped, "They were basically your parents too. What, is it too much to ask you to visit their graves? You're a grown woman. Don't tell me you don't know how to call a cab!"

He had always been cold, but not like this. Back then, even if he was annoyed, he would still make sure she was safe.

Justine didn't bother arguing anymore. She opened the door and stepped out, slamming it behind her with a sharp thud. Her irritation bled into every movement.

Noah didn't even hesitate. He spun the car around and sped off, a blast of exhaust blowing straight into her face.

Almost immediately, Justine's phone buzzed. A message from Hazel popped up with just six gloating words. "Beating you is just too easy."

Justine nearly gagged at the message. The smugness made her stomach churn. She scrolled upward through their message history. It was filled with Hazel's relentless harassment as she bragged day and night.

Justine had never replied.

At the start, she was so heartbroken that she could barely breathe. She cried through sleepless nights, too shattered to even type a single reply. But now, she was done. She was free. After a moment's thought, she typed out a line. "Wishing you an early congratulations on the wedding."

She meant it. In exactly one month, once the divorce was finalized, Noah would rush to marry the woman he had always loved.

She meant the blessing—just as much as she hoped that their marriage would unravel, thread by thread, until there was nothing left but broken vows and bitter regret.

Caught off guard, Hazel snapped and began ranting back. "You shameless woman! If it weren't for you, I would've married him long ago. Do you really think he ever loved you? Don't flatter yourself. You have no idea, do you? Gavi tells me all the time how he wishes you'd burn to death like the freak you are. He wants me to be his mom!"

Justine hadn't known about that last message. She stared at the screen in a daze, stunned that a child could say something so vicious.

But the sadness didn't linger. Like smoke in the wind, it faded quickly. No matter how cruel Gavin's words were, he soon wouldn't be her child anymore.

She turned on "Do Not Disturb", shut off her phone, and tucked it away.

It took her nearly an hour on foot to reach the gates of the graveyard. Kenelm George, the caretaker, was someone she had come to know over the years. After all, hardly anyone else would visit the graveyard on Christmas Day.

While signing her name in the log, he glanced behind her. "Came alone today?"

"Yeah." She kept it short.

Taking the flowers, she made her way along the familiar path. She knew every step by heart.

The portraits on the headstones showed a young couple, their smiles frozen in time. No one could have predicted what happened to them.

At the time of the accident, Justine had only just met Noah on a blind date. She still remembered how he had brought Hazel along as an act of silent rebellion.

Noah's father, Maxwell Oliver, had been driving. Noah's mother, Minerva Richardson, had sat in the passenger seat, doing her best to create a warm atmosphere to help the two young people connect. Justine had sat by the window while Hazel had been wedged in the middle.

Maybe Maxwell had been too focused on lightening the mood to notice the truck barreling out from the intersection.

The crash was brutal. In that split second, Justine only managed to pull Noah toward her, shielding him from the blow. But the metal shard from the truck sheared straight through the car door, slicing off her ring and pinky fingers.

Everything went black after that.

When Justine came to, Noah was at her bedside, his face swollen from crying. He glared at her with bitter resentment and squeezed five words through clenched teeth, "We're getting the marriage certificate."

Hazel had vanished without a word, and for a long time, Noah blamed Justine for his parents' deaths. But time had a way of softening even the deepest resentment.

Somewhere along the way—without either of them noticing when—the distance between Noah and Justine began to close. Somehow, they shared two unexpectedly tender years.

Then…

Justine blinked, snapping out of the memory. She gently placed the flowers in front of the headstones and said hoarsely, "This will be the last time I'm here as your daughter-in-law. I've given everything I had to stay by Noah's side. I've got nothing left. His one true love is back now, and maybe he'll finally be happy.

"You don't need to worry about him anymore. He couldn't make it today, but I'll come every year. I promise."

There wasn't much else she could say. She sat quietly in front of the graves for a while. A breeze stirred, lifting a single flower petal and laying it softly against her cheek. For a second, she wondered if they were sighing with her.

Justine stayed until noon. She shared a simple lunch with Kenelm before making her way back.

Halfway back, the sky suddenly darkened, and without warning, rain poured down in sheets. She tried to hail a ride, but the line on the app stretched into the hundreds.

There wasn't a soul in sight on the road—not even a single tree to shield her from the rain. She clenched her teeth and pushed forward through the storm.

Four hours later, she finally reached the city center. The glass windows of a restaurant reflected a drenched woman with hair plastered to her face. She looked lifeless, like she had crawled out of a gutter.

She was about to look away when something inside the restaurant caught her eye.

By sheer, bitter coincidence, Noah was seated inside with Gavin and Hazel, the three of them engaged in cheerful conversation. From the outside looking in, they appeared to be the perfect picture of a happy family.

And she, soaking wet on the other side of the glass, looked like a stray with nowhere to go.

Only then did it hit her—Noah hadn't called her once since he left that morning.

She pulled out her phone. The screen was waterlogged. Still, she stubbornly dialed his number.

Inside the restaurant, Noah glanced at his phone, his brows creasing with visible irritation before he promptly declined the call.

Justine stared at the screen as the call was abruptly cut off. She watched it return to the home screen, then fade to black. No matter how many times she pressed it, the phone stayed dead.

It was no different from Noah's heart—unmoved and unchanging no matter how much warmth she gave.

She stared at the useless device for a long time. Then, she pulled out the SIM card, tossed the phone into the nearest trash can, and began walking home with slow, unhurried steps.