Chapter 8

I used to stubbornly keep a lamp lit, no matter how late it got, waiting for Mike to return before I could sleep peacefully.

It was as if that warm, dim light could illuminate his way home and warm the heart that waited for him.

However, things were different now. This time, I wasn’t as foolish as I once had been.

When Mike dragged his tired body back home, the clock had already silently ticked past 2 o’clock in the morning.

The moment he pushed the door open, the house was pitch black and deathly silent.

The warm light that used to be left on for him was gone, replaced only by the faint moonlight seeping through the window, outlining the furniture in vague, shadowy shapes.

He instinctively furrowed his brows, seemingly unsettled by the unfamiliar darkness.

In the days that followed, I completely changed my old habits.

It wasn’t just that one night—I no longer lit that hopeful little lamp for him on any night thereafter.

Nor did I wait expectantly in the living room for the sound of the door opening, for his return.

For three full days, I treated him as if he were thin air, not uttering a single word to him.

The atmosphere at home had become cold to the extreme.

Perhaps, finally sensing this unusual coldness, Mike returned that day with a delicate gift box in his hands.

He walked up to me, a slightly awkward look of apology appearing on his face, and said in a soft voice, “This is for you, Shannon.”

After a pause, he turned his head slightly and continued, “Oliver was a bit unruly the other day and caused some trouble. I’m apologizing on his behalf—to you and Melanie.”

As he spoke, he gently opened the box. Inside lay a necklace, resting quietly on a velvet lining.

The design was outdated—clearly from another era.

He seemed oblivious to that, reaching in to take it out, and leaned toward me slightly with a hint of trying to please me.

“Come, let me put it on for you.”

I gave the necklace a cold glance, then turned aside expressionlessly to avoid him.

My tone was calm as ever. “No need.”

In fact, that necklace wasn’t unfamiliar to me. I had seen it once in Jennifer’s Twitter.

Back then, she had mocked it with disdain, writing that the style was so outdated and cheap that keeping it was pointless—yet throwing it away felt like a chore.

Without a word, I walked past Mike, returned to the room, and swiftly picked up Melanie.

I dressed her for going out, grabbed the car keys, and got ready to leave.

Mike’s gaze followed my movements, and when he saw me wearing a tailored casual suit, he visibly froze.

His eyes lingered on me for a long while before his voice broke the silence, “Where are you going? I'll drive you.”

In the past, I always wore gentle, feminine dresses around him—obedient and soft-spoken.

But he never knew that during the three years he was gone, I had carried the world on my own shoulders.

I had been starting a company, handling social events, even fixing broken pipes at home with my own hands—

I had forced myself to become an indestructible warrior.

I was not someone who couldn’t survive without him.

As for driving, a faint, self-mocking smile tugged at my lips.

I replied firmly, “No need. When it comes to driving skills, I’m no worse than you—maybe even better.”

In truth, I had a more important goal for today’s outing.

I was going to take Melanie to give up our identities in the country—to completely cut ties with everything here and begin a brand-new life.

Three hours later, we successfully completed the cancellation procedures.

The moment we stepped out the door, I suddenly saw Mike’s car parked right at the entrance.