Chapter 4

The next morning, the living room was empty.

The divorce papers had been torn to shreds, scattered carelessly across the expensive rug.

My heart clenched at the sight, but then quickly went numb.

This was Julian's answer. He wouldn't explain, and he wouldn't let go.

My phone lit up with a message from Seraphina on Snapchat.

A month ago, she had suddenly added me.

Her first message was: "Luna, long time no see. I'm back. Julian picked me up at the airport. He hasn't changed at all."

Since then, my phone had become a front-row seat to her happiness.

A photo of Julian's back as he walked with her at the art gallery, Julian putting food on her plate, her bare leg resting casually in Julian's car...

And yesterday, she sent a voice note.

In the background, I could clearly hear Julian hanging up a call impatiently.

"Luna? Don't worry about her, she always makes a big deal out of nothing. Just focus on the paintings."

The latest message was sent ten minutes ago.

It was a photo.

Julian was sleeping in her bed, looking peaceful, surrounded by the star-themed bedding I knew too well.

The caption read: "Luna, I heard you touched Julian's things in his study and made him mad?"

"Sigh, that agreement was just something he made to comfort me when I was sick years ago. It expired long ago. Don't misunderstand."

"But Luna, you really look like my younger self, especially your eyes. Julian said that's the first thing he noticed when he met you."

"Oh, by the way, how is the baby? Julian said he hopes the baby inherits my eyes."

A wave of nausea hit my throat. I rushed into the bathroom and dry-heaved violently.

My morning sickness had never been this intense.

Leaning against the sink, I stared at my pale face and bloodshot eyes in the mirror.

These eyes... I only had them because they looked like hers?

Fifteen years of devotion, ten years of marriage, all because a man couldn't get the woman he truly wanted.

And I was just a cheap, flawed substitute.

Tears finally spilled over.

With trembling hands, I replied to Seraphina.

"You always love picking up my trash. Keep him. Keep Julian."

I sent it.

Almost instantly, Julian's name flashed on my screen.

I didn't pick up.

I declined the FaceTime call and blocked his number.

The world went blissfully quiet.

I held my tightening belly, took deep breaths, and forced myself to calm down.

Now was not the time for grief.

I called a moving company and began packing my things.

My clothes, my design sketches, my simple kitchenware, and small appliances...

Everything I bought myself was packed into boxes.

As for the expensive jewelry, designer gowns, and luxury bags Julian bought to maintain the image of "Mrs. Vance," I didn't touch a single one.

Even my wedding ring was left quietly on the vanity.

The movers arrived quickly and loaded the boxes.

Before leaving, I took one last look at the mansion I had lived in for ten years.

Beautiful, cold, and a perfect golden cage.

And now, my sentence was served.

My new apartment was tiny, but it got plenty of sunlight.

It took me a whole day to unpack. My body ached, and my lower abdomen felt heavy, but a strange sense of relief washed over me.

That night, I received a text from an unknown number.

It was Julian.

"Luna, come home right now. We can pretend none of this happened."

"Seraphina is in fragile health. Stop harassing and stressing her out."

"And deliver the baby. A Vance heir cannot be born outside."

Looking at the text, I laughed until tears came out.

Even now, all he cared about was Seraphina's feelings and the Vance bloodline.

Whether I lived or died, felt pain or sorrow, didn't matter to him at all.

I didn't reply.

I deleted the message and blocked the number.