One-Way Street: When Love Leaves

"You love Lindsey so much—why didn't you just marry her in the first place?"

Connor Presley's friend took a slow sip of his drink, his face full of confusion.

Pain flickered across Connor's expression.

"Because she loves Scott," he said. "I rushed into marrying Rachel only because I didn't want my presence to stand in the way of their happiness. True love isn't about possession—it's about letting go."

His friend let out a dry laugh, a trace of mockery in his tone.

"Just don't come to regret it."

Connor downed his glass in one swallow.

"Regret? Never. For Lindsey, I'd do anything."

I swallowed my tears and left before I broke down completely.

Back home, I filled the bathtub with icy water and lowered myself into it, forcing the cold to numb the pain clawing through me. The chill cut deep, but it was nothing compared to the agony burning in my heart.

I bit down hard on my lip, tears spilling unchecked. No matter how I cried, how I tried to purge the humiliation and heartbreak, I couldn't wash away the memories of what we once shared.

Three years ago, after that scandalous wedding disaster, I had become the world's favorite joke.

To outsiders, I was a shallow, gold-digging actress desperate to marry into wealth and power.

To them, this ending was nothing more than poetic justice.

When I was utterly alone—when the world turned its back—it was Connor who stood beside me, shielding me from the storm of ridicule.

When he slipped that ring onto my finger, his gaze had been filled with warmth and conviction. After I became pregnant, his care bordered on worship—he wouldn't even let me trim my own nails.

And now, I realized it had all been a performance. A grand illusion staged for Lindsey Remmington's sake.

How laughable.

I didn't know when I'd finally drifted to sleep, tears drying on my cheeks. When I woke again, I was lying in bed, feverish and weak.

Connor hovered over me, his face tight with worry.

"Rachel, you're a mother now. How could you be so careless? You're sick. What if something happens to the baby?"

Once, I would've mistaken that for genuine concern. Now, I knew—he wasn't worried about me. He was worried about their child.

A bitter smile curved my lips. I said nothing.

For years, I'd used my fame to promote his company, boosting its image again and again. I'd introduced him to investors, helping him remain the title of "Elluel City's richest".

I looked down at my scarred, weary body and felt an ache so deep it hollowed me out. I had given everything to this marriage—my love, my body, my career—only to realize I'd been nothing but a vessel for someone else's dream.

A marriage so polished on the surface, yet rotten with deceit and betrayal beneath—why should I keep it?

And this baby, tainted by its parents' betrayal and lies, had no place in my world.

"I must've fallen asleep in the tub," I said. "Filming's been exhausting lately."

That night, I told him I needed quiet for the baby and moved into another room.

Once the door was closed, I called my best friend—a lawyer—and asked her to draft a divorce agreement and finalize the division of assets.

The Presley family had been barely holding onto their fortune for years alone. Their title of "Elluel City's richest" was just a crumbling facade.

Once I took back what was mine, I wanted to see just how long he could keep up his charade.