Chapter 4

JENNIFER'S POV

"Divorce?" Damian repeated, the word lingering on his tongue as if he couldn't quite believe he had heard it.

He rubbed the space between his brows before letting out a quiet sigh.

"Jennifer..." His voice was lower this time, carrying a hint of exhaustion rather than anger. "Do you even understand what you're saying right now?"

I met his eyes without looking away.

"I do."

He looked at me for a long moment before speaking again.

"You're upset. You've had a rough day, and emotions are running high." His tone remained calm, though I could hear the weariness in it. "Let's not make decisions you'll regret. We can talk about this again when you're thinking clearly."

A bitter smile slowly formed on my lips.

Thinking clearly? For the first time in three years...That was exactly what I was doing.

"I'm thinking more clearly than I ever have," I said quietly, my voice surprisingly steady. "Three years ago, this marriage began as a transaction."

I looked down at the wedding ring resting on my finger.

"You needed someone with my blood type and I supplied what was needed." My fingers brushed against the  ring before I slowly took a deep breath.

"I've spent three years fulfilling my side of the agreement." I smiled faintly, though there wasn't a trace of happiness behind it. "Giving blood whenever Vivian needed it, being your wife only on paper... pretending that one day."

I shook my head gently.

"But now...my blood can't save Vivian anymore." I paused for a brief moment.

"The transaction is over so..." I hesitated before gathering the last courage.

"I want this marriage to end too."

Damian looked at me for what felt like a long time.

His brows furrowed ever so slightly, and for the first time since I had told him I wanted a divorce, I saw something other than indifference flicker across his face. It wasn't regret. It wasn't guilt. It was hesitation, as though he couldn't understand why I had suddenly become so stubborn. 

His lips parted slightly, looking like he was about to say something, but before a single word could leave his mouth, there was a knock on the door.

A nurse stepped inside carrying a clipboard.

"Mr. Sterling, Mrs. Sterling," she said politely before looking at me. "Everything has been prepared. We can begin Miss Vivian's transfusion now." She offered me a small apologetic smile. "Mrs. Sterling, if you're feeling well enough, please come with me."

I didn't answer because there was nothing left to say. 

Silently, I climbed down from the hospital bed and followed the nurse out of the room.

Not once did I look back.

The nurse led me into the transfusion room next door. She helped me sit down before gently tying the tourniquet around my arm.

"I'm going to insert the needle now," she said softly while disinfecting my skin. "If it hurts, please let me know."

I merely nodded. A sharp sting shot through my arm as the needle pierced my vein.

I slowly lowered my gaze. Dark red blood began flowing through the transparent tube.

I watched it silently. It was strange.

Watching my own blood leave my body felt as though the last three years of my marriage were slowly draining away with it. 

Every drop reminded me of every sacrifice I had made... every promise I had broken to myself... every dream I had abandoned because I believed that if I stayed by Damian's side long enough, he would eventually look at me the way he looked at Vivian.

How foolish I had been.

The room was almost silent except for the faint humming of the machine beside me. Then voices drifted through the slightly open door connecting the corridor to Vivian's room.

"Dee..." Vivian's voice was soft and fragile, carrying just enough guilt to make anyone's heart ache. "Is... is Jennifer really serious about divorcing you?"

There was a brief silence before she continued, her voice trembling.

"If I hadn't needed Jennifer's blood all these years..." she whispered, "...maybe none of this would've happened. She wouldn't be angry with me, and she wouldn't have asked you for a divorce." She sniffled softly before adding, "Maybe... I've only been causing trouble for both of you."

I closed my eyes even now she was still pretending.

A few seconds later, Damian spoke.

"Don't blame yourself, Vivian." His voice was low and gentle. A tenderness I had spent three years longing to hear.

"This has nothing to do with you," he continued calmly. "Jennifer has always understood why this arrangement existed. She knew what she agreed to from the beginning."

"But..." Vivian's voice cracked slightly. "What if she really leaves? The doctor said today is my last transfusion, but... what if something happens again? What if I get sick another time?" She paused before whispering almost fearfully, "What if there's no one left to help me?"

There was another moment of silence before Damian answered without the slightest hesitation.

"That won't happen, I won't let it." He said firmly. 

"But what if she refuses?" Vivian asked quietly.

"I'll handle Jennifer," Damian replied. "You don't need to worry about any of this anymore. Your only job is to recover. Leave everything else to me."

Vivian let out a relieved breath.

"I knew... I knew I could always count on you, Dee."

"You always can," Damian replied softly. "As long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you."

My fingers slowly tightened around the armrest of the chair.

The blood continued flowing through the tube.

Drop...

By drop...

By drop...

Not once since I woke up had anyone asked whether I was in pain, not once had Damian asked how I was feeling after collapsing.

Not once had he questioned why I had fainted or whether the diagnosis I kept trying to tell him about might actually be true.

To him...

To Vivian...

To everyone in that family...

The only thing that mattered...

Was whether there was still enough blood left in my body to save hers.

After the transfusion was over, I quietly left the hospital.

By the time I reached the villa, the sky had already turned dark. I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The house was unusually quiet, almost as if it already knew I wasn't coming back. 

Slowly, I made my way upstairs toward the master bedroom. Standing at the doorway, my eyes wandered around the room that had been my home for the past three years. I had walked into this room with so many hopes, believing that if I loved Damian enough, one day he would love me back.

I was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled my suitcase out of the wardrobe and quietly started packing.I only packed the things that had always belonged to me.

A few clothes, my passport, my documents and some books.

Finally, I carefully took out the ruby necklace and held it tightly in my palm for a few seconds before wrapping it in a soft cloth and placing it inside my suitcase.

My eyes slowly drifted toward the rest of the wardrobe.

The expensive dresses Damian had bought.

The handbags, jewelry.

Everything remained exactly where it was.

I walked over and gently ran my fingers across one of the dresses before letting my hand fall back to my side.

A bitter smile slowly appeared on my lips.

"So that's why..." I murmured.

For three years, I kept wondering why none of those gifts ever felt like me.

Every dress was in Vivian's favorite color, every necklace was the style Vivian always wore, even the perfumes carried the same fragrance she loved.

I used to think Damian simply didn't know my taste. Now I finally understood that he never bought those gifts with me in mind.

They were chosen according to Vivian's preferences, they had never belonged to me.

So...

I left every single one behind.

My hand slowly reached for the wedding ring resting on my finger. I stared at it quietly before gently sliding it off.

The moment it left my finger, I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.

It had never fit. It was always slightly loose, yet I had convinced myself that maybe one day Damian would notice and replace it with one that actually fit me.

He never did because he had never even asked for my ring size. It was simply something needed to complete a contract.

As my thumb brushed over my ring finger, it stopped on a faint scar hidden beneath where the ring had rested all these years.

I gently traced it.

The scar was old.

Years ago, before we got married, Damian had grabbed this very hand during a moment of panic. He had held it so tightly that his nails dug into my skin, leaving behind a wound that eventually healed into a tiny scar.

He never knew it was there. Walking over to the bedside table, I carefully placed the ring down.

And took out the signed divorce papers.

My eyes lingered on my signature for a few seconds before I placed them neatly beside the ring.

"Goodbye, Damian." The words came out softer than I expected. I picked up my suitcase and walked toward the door.

After leaving the villa, I booked an Uber. A few minutes later, the driver pulled up outside the gate and stepped out to help me with my luggage.

"Good evening, ma'am," he said politely as he placed my suitcase in the trunk. "Where would you like to go?"

"The airport, please," I replied softly as I got into the back seat.

"Of course."

The car slowly drove away from the villa. I rested my head against the window, watching the house disappear farther and farther into the distance.

When we reached the airport, I walked straight to the ticket counter.

The receptionist smiled politely.

"Good evening, ma'am. How may I help you?"

"I'd like the first available flight," I replied, placing my passport on the counter.

She typed on her keyboard for a few moments before looking back up.

"There's one leaving in thirty-five minutes. Would you like me to book it?"

"Yes."

She smiled.

"Done. Here's your boarding pass. Have a safe journey."

"Thank you."

I took the boarding pass and slowly walked toward the departure gate.

As the announcement echoed through the airport and I looked out at the runway through the glass windows, I closed my eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

For the first time in years...

I could finally breathe.