Chapter 4

"I will never divorce you, Vania. Don't expect me to let you go!"

Devandra's voice boomed through the study of their home. He stood with his back to the large window, staring straight at the woman who had been by his side for three years—a woman he once regarded as insignificant, but who had become too precious to release.

Vania's gaze was empty. She merely stood silently in the doorway, watching her usually stoic husband now visibly overwhelmed with emotion.

Devandra fixed his eyes on her. "I know I've been wrong. But I can’t let you leave. I want to fix everything, Van."

But Vania said nothing. She simply turned and left the room without a word.

From that night onward, Devandra truly changed. He no longer mentioned divorce—even when Vania repeatedly pressed him to finalize the legal documents. Every time she asked, his answer remained the same: "I'm busy."

One day passed. Two days. Three days.

Vania began to feel deceived. It wasn’t just disappointment—she was disgusted with Devandra’s constant procrastination regarding the divorce.

That afternoon, when Devandra returned from the office, Vania was sitting casually in the dining room with a cup of tea in her hand. A cynical smile slowly curved her lips as he crossed the doorway.

"Mr. Devandra," she said softly yet piercingly, "if you're so busy working, why not empower me to handle the divorce papers?"

Devandra's steps halted. He turned, his face tightening at the sting of Vania's remark.

"Vania, I'm sorry. If I have ever spoken harshly or hurt you… I never meant to. I truly don't want to end our relationship."

Vania snorted quietly, then slammed her cup forcefully onto the table.

"What, Devandra? You're refusing to divorce me? After all the insults you've hurled at me? After you told me to sleep with another man so I could conceive?"

Her tone grew angrier, and tears welled in her eyes. "I never imagined that Devandra Montgomery could lie and twist the situation like this!"

Without waiting for a reply, Vania stood up and dashed upstairs toward her room. The sound of the door slamming echoed throughout the house.

Devandra stood frozen, his mind in disarray. He fumbled in his pocket and immediately called someone he trusted.

"Hanz," he said in a heavy tone as the call connected. "Do you know how to soften a woman's heart?"

A small laugh came from his assistant. "Sir, women love to be given attention. Try complimenting her beauty—and perhaps give her a gift. Maybe some flowers or something she likes."

Devandra nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll give it a try."

The next morning, Devandra woke earlier than usual. He ordered the finest bouquet of red roses and placed it near the dining table, right at the chair where Vania normally sat.

He also instructed the housekeeper to prepare Vania’s favorite breakfast, complete with freshly squeezed orange juice and toast.

At seven in the morning, Vania’s footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. She wore a long white nightdress, her hair still slightly tousled. Yet her natural beauty shone through, even without makeup.

She paused for a moment as she reached the dining table. There, right at her usual seat, stood a large bouquet of fresh red roses accompanied by a small card that read:

"To the woman I have never truly appreciated as I should have. Forgive me. – Devandra"

Vania was stunned. She stared at the bouquet without any expression, then glanced toward the kitchen to check if Devandra was nearby.

Taking a deep breath, she murmured quietly, "Perhaps these are the flowers Devandra will give to his mistress."

Without touching them, Vania sat down and began eating her breakfast as if nothing had happened.

Not long after, Devandra emerged from his room, now dressed in his work attire. He looked toward the table, hoping to see a smile from Vania.

But all he saw was her back, cold as ice. The bouquet he had set out remained untouched.

"Vania... you saw those flowers, didn't you?" Devandra asked hesitantly.

Vania didn’t turn around. She simply shrugged and replied flatly, "Those flowers mean nothing if you continue to hurt my feelings, Devandra."

Devandra fell silent. He had never expected that his gesture would be dismissed so easily. Yet perhaps it was as it should be. His heart, which once took her for granted, now had to learn that love cannot be bought with mere flowers or hollow apologies.