Chapter 7

One week later, their divorce was finalized.

Allen was finally free to leave. As he packed his belongings, a delivery arrived—a tailored suit from Serene's assistant with instructions to attend a gala at the Foster estate.

Allen stared at the suit and laughed softly. Though they were legally divorced, Serene seemed oblivious, still treating him as her husband.

He considered declining but remembered Mrs. Foster's years of kindness—and the fact that he still needed her help with his travel documents. Reluctantly, he put on the suit and went.

---

The ballroom sparkled with life. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the crowd, while the gentle clink of champagne glasses mixed with the murmur of conversation.

At the center of attention, Will stood surrounded by admiring friends, all raising their glasses in celebration.

"Will, Ms. Foster is clearly still in love with you."

"That ring you're wearing? It's a one-of-a-kind piece from Sotheby's. They say it symbolizes eternal love. Some mystery buyer paid a fortune for it—now we know it was Ms. Foster!"

"She never got over you. Remember in college? She used to walk you to every class. All those little gifts that kept appearing in your locker? That was her. And that time you two fought and wouldn't speak to her? She was desperate to make things right. She came to me for help once—looked like she hadn't slept in days. You not talking to her was like her world had ended."

"Will, no one loves you like Ms. Foster does. When you got married abroad, she was heartbroken. Then, hearing you were unhappy, she flew overseas every week just to check on you and leave those thoughtful gifts. Now that you're divorced, and let's be honest—she never seemed invested in her marriage anyway—why don't you two finally get together?"

"Yes! Get together! Get together!"

The chant grew louder as others joined in.

Allen stood in a quiet corner, listening to stories of how deeply his wife had loved another man.

---

"Allen."

A voice behind him broke through his thoughts.

He turned to see Mrs. Foster and started to say "Mom," but caught himself and switched to a formal, "Ma'am."

Mrs. Foster sighed but said nothing. She handed him a folder of travel documents.

"I've arranged everything for your trip abroad. Your program starts soon, so I've booked your flight—it leaves in three hours. Is there anything else you need?"

Allen looked at the papers in his hands, trembling slightly with relief. The prospect of freedom, of starting fresh, overwhelmed him.

Taking a steadying breath, he placed the documents in his bag and shook his head.

"Thank you, ma'am. You've done more than enough."

After a pause, he added quietly, "Just one small favor. If Serene ever learns the truth and asks about me, please tell her you don't know where I am."

He had no desire to see Serene ever again.

Mrs. Foster looked surprised. "You mean you haven't told her you're leaving?"

What was there to tell? That he'd approached her deliberately years ago? That his unwavering devotion for five years wasn't love but obligation, following Mrs. Foster's plan to help Serene move on from Will? That he was leaving forever?

Even if he explained, what difference would it make? Her "true love" was back—his absence would mean nothing.

Allen smiled faintly. "There's no need. I'd rather leave quietly and avoid any drama."

"What do you mean, leave?"

The familiar voice cut through their conversation.

Allen turned to find Serene standing behind them, her dark eyes fixed on his. His heart jumped as he tried to gauge how much she might have overheard.

Mrs. Foster quickly intervened. "It's nothing. What brings you over here?"

Serene didn't push the issue. Her eyes moved to the cake on the nearby table. "Mom, it's time to cut the cake."

Mrs. Foster rubbed her temples and waved dismissively. "I'm not feeling well. You and Allen can do it."

With that, she let the staff help her upstairs, leaving them alone.

Serene turned to Allen, extending her hand. "Come on. Let's cut the cake."

Allen shook his head, raising his bandaged hand.

"I can't. My hand hasn't healed. Ask Will to do it.”

Surprise flickered across her face, as if his suggestion made no sense. Something felt off-balance.

"Why would I ask him?"

Now Allen was confused.

Why? Hadn't she always chosen Will? She'd flown across the world countless times just to see him. Now, when Allen was stepping aside, why did she look so bewildered?

He managed a slight smile. "You two are close. It's just cutting a cake—no big deal."

Seeing his calm expression, devoid of any anger, she hesitated but didn't argue. She walked to Will, leaned close, and whispered something.

Will's face flushed, but he nodded and took her hand as they stepped onto the stage together.

Piano music filled the room as they stood side by side, hands joined on the knife. The intimate scene looked less like a birthday celebration and more like a wedding.

---

As the night progressed, the older guests departed, leaving the younger crowd—those who had grown up with Serene and Will and knew their history.

Seeing them together, the crowd erupted in applause and started chanting.

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Will's face turned crimson, and Serene's cheeks flushed pink. Though she didn't kiss him, she made no move to stop the chanting.

Allen remained unmoved. He checked his phone, calculating his departure time.

With his flight in three hours, he needed to leave now.

But to everyone watching, his quiet demeanor looked like a broken heart.