Chapter 7

On June 1st, Steven left.

He had told Lucy in advance that this trip would be busy, that he might not have time to message her.

But there wasn't any shortage of news of him.

All sent by Marilyn.

Photos, videos—plenty of them.

Steven taking Shawn diving.

Steven carrying Sharon on his shoulders, watching fireworks.

Steven cradling both children, lulling them to sleep.

Steven feeding them at the dinner table.

[He's such a good father. He takes care of everything himself. I barely need to lift a finger.]

[Look at how happy they are with their daddy. Can you really bear to let them live without him?]

[Oh, by the way, Steven promised the kids an island tour. Not just Maldove this time.]

[Steven bought me a new ring. Pretty, isn't it?]

Attached was a photo of Marilyn's hand. On her left ring finger was a delicate women's ring—the exact one Lucy had picked out in a jewelry store not long ago.

Lucy scrolled up, finding the picture of Steven feeding the kids.

On his right ring finger was not their wedding band. It was a matching men's ring—the pair to Marilyn's.

Her phone rang. It was Steven.

"Lucy, I just finished a meeting. Called you right away. How are things at home?"

Lucy glanced at the photos on her screen. "Everything's fine."

"There's a lot to take care of here. I might be back later than planned."

An island tour, wasn't it?

She hummed in acknowledgment.

He added hastily, "I haven't forgotten our anniversary. I'll make it back in time, I promise. We'll go out to sea and watch the moon together. And I want to open the gift you got me, in person."

As he spoke, a child's voice piped up from the other end. "Daddy…?"

Steven hung up almost instantly. "Lucy, I need to go. Eat on time, lock the doors and take care of yourself. I'll be home soon. Wait for me."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The line went dead.

Not that it mattered. Lucy wasn't worried. Marilyn would update her soon enough.

Sure enough, within minutes, another video arrived.

Shawn said, "Daddy, my birthday wish is to have a little sister."

Sharon clapped excitedly. "Sister! Sister!"

Steven didn't refuse. He simply smiled at them. "Then Daddy will try."

Then he turned to Marilyn.

The camera caught the soft curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes. "What do you think, Mommy?"

Marilyn giggled. "Then I'll try too."

The four of them dissolved into laughter, a picture of perfect harmony.

Lucy switched off her phone.

She gathered every gift Steven had ever given her, every letter he had ever written, carried them to the rooftop, and set them all on fire.

Ten years' worth of memories.

There was so much. It took her an entire night to burn them all.

Maybe even the heavens wanted to help. As dawn approached, rain poured over Hartemis City. The ashes were washed away, leaving no trace behind.

Lucy fell ill from that night in the cold wind, drenched in the downpour. Fever raged through her body.

Half-conscious, she heard the murmuring of the maids.

"Madam is burning up. Should we call Sir?"

"We should, shouldn't we? He loves her so much. He'd be worried."

"Don't." Her mother-in-law's sharp voice cut through the room. "Steven is spending time with his children. No one is to disturb him. Understood?"

A maid hesitated. "But Madam is seriously ill. What if something happens? How will we explain when Sir returns?"

"If she dies, all the better," the older woman said coldly. "Then my two grandchildren can move in openly."

Lucy couldn't speak.

A single tear slipped down her cheek.

Fifteen days passed.

She recovered somewhat, though her body remained weak.

Camille arrived, her face tight with worry. "Falling into the sea is risky. I've arranged a rescue boat, but in your condition… Are you sure you can handle it?"

Lucy clenched her teeth. "Drive."

Camille drove her to the shore.

A yacht was waiting at the dock.

She stepped aboard just as night fell, the crescent moon hanging in the sky.

Camille reminded her, "Once we reach the designated spot, the yacht will be sunk. You'll go overboard, and the rescue team will be there immediately."

She nodded. "Got it."

Camille steadied her as she boarded. "Maybe we should reconsider. You're still weak—"

"Tonight," she said firmly. "I need to be free of him. I've waited fifteen days. I won't wait any longer."

The yacht's engine roared to life, carrying her into the vast sea.

Then—her phone rang.

Lucy glanced at the screen and picked up. "Hello?"

Steven's voice was urgent. "Lucy, I'm sorry I'm late. I just landed. Where are you?"

She looked up at the sky, at the sliver of moon above the waves. "On a yacht. Watching the moon."

"Are you alone? Wait for me—I'm heading to the pier right now—"

"No need. Goodbye, Steven."

Lucy raised her hand.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the phone into the sea.