Chapter 5

After work, Adriana met her best friend, Bella, for dinner.

They hadn't seen each other in half a month and had plenty to talk about.

"So you've really made up your mind to divorce Chris?" Bella asked.

She'd grown up with Adriana and knew everything about her.

"Joan and her son have already moved into the house," Adriana replied. "If I don't divorce him now, what am I supposed to be in that home?"

Bella snorted. "Be the kid's aunt?"

Seeing Adriana about to lose her temper, she immediately backed down.

"Divorcing him is the right call. You should've done it long ago. What kind of decent marriage lasts five years, and the husband won't touch the wife?

"Even the woman next door, whose husband is in a vegetative state, is pregnant with her second child. What's Chris pretending to be—a chaste martyr? Don't tell me he's saving himself for Joan."

Adriana fell silent. She didn't mention that Chris had already been sleeping in Joan's room. It was too humiliating. She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"Let him do whatever he wants," she said. "I can't accept him anymore anyway."

In her heart, Chris was already unclean. Unclean in body, even more so in heart.

And she didn't want anything unclean.

Bella looked relieved. "That's the Adriana I know. Chris should agree to the divorce, right?"

"He doesn't."

The cup in Bella's hand slammed heavily onto the table—thankfully, it was made of wood.

"Is he a psychopath? Or some leftover from feudal times?"

Adriana pulled out a napkin, wiped the splashed water from her face, then calmly dried the table.

"Bella, keep your voice down. This isn't exactly something to be proud of."

Watching Adriana wipe up the water so calmly only made Bella angrier.

"He's bullying you because you've always obeyed him. He takes advantage of you being too decent."

Adriana turned her wedding ring slowly. "I promised Grandma Rosie."

The ring had been part of Grandma Rosie's dowry from her natal family—a priceless antique she'd given Adriana five years ago. To Adriana, it represented Grandma Rosie, not the marriage itself.

Bella sighed, her anger dissolving into helplessness.

Seventeen years ago, in the dead of winter, little Adriana had been abandoned on the street by relatives and nearly frozen to death. It was Grandma Rosie who took her home.

Grandma Rosie had given her the best life, the best education, and more love than anyone else ever had.

Before she died, Grandma Rosie had knelt and begged her. In that situation, Adriana had had no choice.

It wasn't that she couldn't let go of Chris—it was that she couldn't betray the promise she'd made to Grandma Rosie.

Adriana smiled calmly. "What's trapped me was never Chris. It was my own heart—my debt to Grandma Rosie."

Setting marriage aside, Chris was still like a brother to her, Grandma Rosie's most beloved grandson.

Five years ago, she'd already learned what it meant to be powerless. No matter how difficult things were now, they couldn't be harder than they'd been back then.

With Joan's return, her heart had actually become freer.

She might have to keep her promise to Grandma, but she no longer needed to be loyal to Chris.

Bella turned her cup slowly, regret flickering in her eyes.

"Do you remember our senior year of high school? You had a high fever and were hospitalized. Chris was abroad for an important competition, and he still flew back overnight. He stayed by your bed, telling jokes nonstop. You found him annoying, but he didn't dare stop out of fear you'd fall asleep."

Adriana tightened her grip on her fork and gave a soft "Mm."

She remembered it all. There was no denying how good Chris had been to her back then.

"At the time, he genuinely cared about you as his little sister. I even had a brief crush on him," Bella said with a grin. "He was like a gentle, cheerful big brother—he was great."

Then she pursed her lips. "Who knew he'd turn out like this—stubborn and impossible."

Adriana didn't respond. She picked up the last piece of greens from her bowl and ate it.

After wiping her mouth with a napkin, she smiled faintly. "It's all in the past."

Those bits of warmth from before had been real. So was the suffocating distance between them now.

The two of them talked endlessly, and by the time Adriana got home, it was already past eleven.

Chris, who was usually asleep by then, was alone in the living room reading.

He wore black loungewear with a thin blanket draped over his knees. In the soft light, his profile looked elegant and aloof.

He held a book in both hands, yet hadn't turned a page in a long time—just sat there, gaze lowered, a faint gloom gathering between his brows.

After the car accident, his temperament had changed drastically, becoming hard to read.

Adriana often felt as though only a shadow of him remained in this world—thin and quiet, like a crescent moon reflected in water, fragile enough to shatter at a touch.

"Where did you go?" Chris asked in a low voice, eyes still on the book.

"Dinner with Bella."

Adriana slipped off her heels and changed into soft house slippers.

She hadn't worn heels in a long time. After a full day in them, her feet ached badly.

"Do you want me to push you upstairs?" she asked before leaving the living room.

Chris set the book aside—his way of agreeing.

"Went to Bella to discuss how to divorce me?" he suddenly asked, his tone laced with mockery.

Adriana pushed the wheelchair into the elevator, her expression indifferent. "You know it doesn't matter who I discuss it with—unless you…"

Chris cut her off coldly. "Don't even think about it."

"We've known each other for seventeen years. You should know—I don't let go of what I want."

She did know. Even as a child, Chris had been domineering. When they first met, that trait had even frightened her a little.

After the accident, his obsession had only deepened.

She replied seriously, "I'm a person. Not a thing."

More importantly, she belonged to herself.

The elevator rose smoothly. Adriana watched their overlapping reflections in the glass wall—one seated, one standing—like strangers to each other.

When they got out, she saw Edward standing outside the bedroom door. Without asking anything, she pushed Chris toward him.

Joan was being overly cautious. Completely unnecessary.

She and Chris had been married five years without anything happening. Nothing would happen now, either.

Chris watched Adriana turn and return to her room, then lowered his head and rubbed his brow.

"Edward, go find your mom first. I have work to take care of."

He took the elevator to the top floor, with Damien following silently.

The top floor was a vast, empty hall. Aside from tables, chairs, and sofas, there were only a few astronomical telescopes and two rows of bookshelves.

Two of the walls were made of glass. Moonlight from above and city lights below both poured into the space.

Chris stood up from his wheelchair and stopped before one of the glass walls, overlooking the brilliantly lit streets of Heatherton City.

The noise of traffic faded into silence at this height.

Damien stood at a cautious distance in the shadows, eyes occasionally flicking toward the door.

Backlit, Chris's tall, dark figure stood straight as a pine.

His legs were firm and straight—showing no trace of disability.

"You must think I'm a despicable bastard," he said, "lying to two women.

"I owe Joan and Edward too much. If I didn't pretend to be disabled, they wouldn't be living so pitifully.

"As for Adriana…"

He paused, lit a cigarette, and toyed with it between his fingers.

"I have a lifetime with her. She'll understand my difficulties."

Outside the door, Adriana froze, her hand stiff on the handle.

She couldn't sleep and had come up to look at the stars—never expecting Chris to be here.