Chapter 4He Signed Our Divorce Papers as His Secretary Swallowed Deep

By the time I left work, all my personal belongings had been handled.

The elevator descended, a gentle sense of weightlessness enveloping my body.

Once upon a time, in this very elevator, he had pressed me against the mirrored wall, kissing me passionately, saying,

"Elara, what incredible fortune in this life and the last did I cultivate to marry you."

His eyes were so bright back then.

Bright enough to seem like he truly believed his own lies.

I had arranged to say goodbye to a local friend.

The restaurant was by the river.

Not long after I sat down, I saw Julian walk in, his arm around Chloe's waist.

He was leaning in to listen to her, a lazy smile playing on his lips.

Julian saw me first.

He paused for a moment, then his smile deepened. Instead of avoiding me, he walked straight over.

"Your 'plans' were just dining alone?"

He pulled out the chair opposite me and sat down.

"The steak here is good," Julian picked up the wine bottle from my table and examined it. "But the bottle you ordered is too light. I'll have the server open a better one."

The server brought the wine he ordered.

Julian personally poured two glasses, pushing one towards me and handing one to Chloe.

Chloe, being pregnant, naturally didn't drink.

He asked me, "How's the taste?"

"It's alright."

"Just 'alright'?" His smile deepened. "I remember you used to love this wine, said it had... a bitter almond aroma."

"People's tastes change," I put down my glass. "What seemed good before, now, it's just 'whatever'."

Julian's gaze deepened.

But he quickly smiled again, turning to put an arm around Chloe's shoulders.

"Hear that?" He leaned in and smiled at her, his tone doting. "Your sister is teaching you a lesson: don't take men too seriously."

Chloe playfully slapped his chest. "What about you? Can I take you seriously?"

"Me?" Julian looked up, his gaze landing on my face, but his words were for her. "Someone like me, you should just have fun with, never take it seriously."

He said it flippantly, as if expecting me to coldly stand up and leave, as I had in the past.

To leave them to their private space.

But I was not so obliging.

I simply picked up my wine glass and took another sip.

It wasn't until I received a message that my friend couldn't make it that I finally stood up.

"My friend was delayed," I said, rising. "Please excuse me."

As I turned to leave.

Chloe suddenly spoke. "Elara, it's Mr. Hayes's birthday next week. We're having a yacht party. You should come too?"

I paused.

"You must come," Chloe's voice turned syrupy. "Mr. Hayes said the birthday gift he most wants to receive is..."

She deliberately paused, looking at Julian.

He reached out, pinching her cheek, scolding her playfully, "You talk too much."

I nodded. "If you're not afraid of me crashing the party, then I can go."

I didn't look at them as I walked out of the restaurant.

Their laughter was muffled by the glass windows, gradually fading away.

When I returned to the villa at seven, Mrs. Davis was in the kitchen, stewing soup.

"Ms. Hayes, you're back?"

"Mr. Hayes just called to say he'll be late. Should I save him some soup?"

"No need," I put down my bag. "He won't be coming back."

Mrs. Davis hesitated. "Then... are you sleeping here tonight?"

My hand, unbuttoning my coat, paused.

"What do you mean?"

"During your business trip these past few days," Mrs. Davis's voice grew softer, "Ms. Chloe... moved in."

The air was silent for two seconds.

I continued unbuttoning my coat, one button, then another.

"Which room is she sleeping in?"

"The master bedroom... for four consecutive nights. Mr. Hayes... was there too."

I nodded.

"Ms. Hayes," Mrs. Davis hesitated, "It's not that I didn't want to tell you, but Mr. Hayes said you'd be upset if you knew, and he told me to..."

"It's alright, I don't blame you."

I looked up, surveying the living room.

Every piece of furniture here I picked, every painting I hung.

He was very satisfied.

He always said, "Elara, this house only feels like a home with you in it."

Now, this house was no different from a hotel.

Anyone could come and spend a few nights.

With that, I went upstairs.

Pushing open the master bedroom door, a strange, sweet scent wafted over me.

The bedsheets had been changed, and my skincare products on the vanity were pushed into a corner.

For these four years, I had checked his SnapChat message logs, tracked which apartment his assistant sent flowers to...

Now, as I tossed my wedding ring, I suddenly felt a wave of lightness.

My phone received a flight alert: "Ms. Hayes, your urgent flight coordination is confirmed and will depart at midnight."