Chapter 5

DAMIAN'S POV

The drive home was unusually quiet. I kept my eyes fixed on the road ahead, yet my thoughts refused to stay there.

For some reason Jennifer's words kept replaying in my mind.

"I'm dying."

Then...

"I want a divorce."

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, she had never behaved like this before, not once in all the years I had known her.

Even when we were children, Jennifer had always been the quiet one. While the other children fought over toys or complained whenever something wasn't fair, she would simply stand to the side without saying a word. 

She never demanded attention, never threw tantrums, and never asked anyone for anything. Even after we got married, she accepted every arrangement without complaint. No matter how unreasonable my requests were, she always nodded and quietly did what was expected of her.

So why...why was she suddenly acting so differently today?

I let out a slow breath, trying to push those thoughts aside.

Maybe she was simply overwhelmed. Anyone would be after fainting in a hospital.

She would calm down eventually.

Three years ago, when Vivian's condition suddenly worsened after her surgery, the doctors had told us she needed regular blood transfusions. Her blood type was so rare that finding a compatible donor had become nearly impossible.

Jennifer was the only match.

I still remembered the relief I had felt when I learned that. 

Back then, I had asked her what it would take for her to agree. Instead of asking for money or anything unreasonable she proposed a contract marriage and I agreed without much thought.

To me, it had always been a transaction. She would help Vivian and in return she would have everything she needed.

A comfortable life, financial security, a place in the Sterling family. It seemed fair at least that was what I had always believed.

Ever since I was a child, there had only been one thing I had never forgotten.

Vivian had saved my life. She risked herself to protect me and that was a debt I could never repay. 

From that day onward, I made a promise to myself that no matter what happened I would protect her. So when her illness required someone with Jennifer's blood, everything else simply became secondary.

Jennifer became part of that arrangement from the very beginning. It had never occurred to me to ask whether she was truly okay with any of it.

By the time I returned to the villa, night had already fallen. The lights inside the house were off, leaving the entire place unusually dark and quiet. 

I loosened my tie as I stepped through the front door, instinctively expecting Jennifer to be somewhere in the house. She was always home before me, whether we spoke to each other or not. That routine had never changed in the past three years.

"Jennifer?" I called casually while closing the door behind me.

Only silence answered.

Frowning slightly, I headed upstairs toward the master bedroom. The moment I pushed the door open, something immediately felt off. The room looked exactly the same at first glance, yet it somehow felt emptier. 

My gaze slowly swept across the wardrobe before stopping on the shelves beside it. Half of the clothes were gone. The books Jennifer usually kept by the window had disappeared, and the dressing table no longer held the skincare products and little trinkets she always arranged so neatly. It wasn't until then that I realized what had changed.

She had packed.

Hearing footsteps behind me, I turned to see the housekeeper standing quietly outside the room.

"Mr. Sterling," she greeted cautiously.

"Where's Jennifer?" I asked, my brows knitting together.

The housekeeper lowered her head before answering. "Mrs. Sterling came home this afternoon. She packed some of her belongings and left."

"Left?" I repeated, unable to hide my confusion. "Did she say where she was going?"

"No, sir. She didn't tell anyone."

I glanced back at the room, my gaze lingering on the empty spaces she had left behind.

"What is she doing?" I muttered more to myself than anyone else.

Vivian was supposed to move into the villa after she was discharged from the hospital so it would be easier to look after her. Jennifer choosing to leave now was the last thing I had expected.

Taking out my phone, I dialed her number. The call continued ringing until it was eventually redirected to voicemail.

Jennifer had never ignored my calls before.

Without thinking too much about it, I opened our conversation and typed a short message.

'Stop sulking. Come back when you see this.'

After sending it, I slipped my phone back into my pocket. Jennifer had always calmed down eventually. Whatever this was, I assumed it would be no different.

As I turned to leave the room, something resting on the nightstand caught my attention.

A small velvet box sat beside a stack of neatly arranged papers.

A strange feeling settled in my chest as I walked over. I picked up the velvet box first and slowly opened it.

Inside lay Jennifer's wedding ring. I simply stared at it. She had worn that ring every day since our marriage. I couldn't remember ever seeing her take it off.

My eyes shifted toward the papers beneath it. The words printed across the first page caused my expression to stiffen.

Divorce Agreement.

What the Fuck!! Her signature was already there.

What kind of games she is playing with me.

Suddenly a sharp sound of the doorbell echoed through the silent villa.

I frowned and walked downstairs, assuming Jennifer had come back after all as soon as I opened the door, I spoke before even looking up.

"Jennifer, I told you—"

The words stopped midway because standing outside wasn't Jennifer.

It was a courier wearing a delivery uniform.

"Mr. Sterling?" the man asked politely.

"...Yes."

The courier checked the shipping label before handing me a sealed envelope.

"This was sent by your wife earlier today, sir. She requested that it be delivered to your residence this evening."

"My wife?" I repeated unconsciously.

"Yes, sir. Could you please sign here?"

After signing the receipt, I accepted the envelope and closed the door behind me.

Jennifer's handwriting was immediately recognizable on the front as I tore open the envelope.

Several documents slid into my hands.

Hospital records.

At first, I frowned at the unfamiliar hospital's name. It was a small community hospital I had never even noticed before. Jennifer had gone there this morning...

The thought made me pause as I turned to the first page.

The diagnosis section was impossible to miss.

Retroperitoneal Sarcoma.

Below it, another word stood out even more.

Malignant.

The color slowly drained from my face.

I immediately turned to the next page.

CT scan results.

Biopsy reports.

Blood test results.

Every document carried the same conclusion then my eyes stopped on the doctor's assessment.

Advanced Stage. Estimated survival: approximately three months.

For several long seconds, I couldn't move.

"This..." I whispered hoarsely. "How..." The report trembled slightly in my hands. Suddenly, Jennifer's voice echoed through my mind.

"Damian... I'm dying."

"I have the report."

"I want a divorce."

I remembered interrupting her before she could finish, telling her that I didn't believe her.

I remembered accusing her of making everything up just to avoid donating blood.

The papers slipped from my grasp, scattering across the floor one after another.

I stared at them in silence, my heartbeat growing louder with every passing second.

For the first time since leaving the hospital, a thought I had refused to entertain forced its way into my mind.

Jennifer...

Had been telling me the truth.

And now? Now.

She's really gone.