Chapter 1

On our third wedding anniversary, Chloe went to pick up her ex-boyfriend from the airport.

At his welcome-back party, she gifted him the song I spent three years writing for her.

That was the moment I finally realized—every single line of lyrics she had penned was about her undying love for Julian.

After finding out, I quietly burned every manuscript I had ever composed for her, leaving behind only signed divorce papers.

Later, I heard the untouchable Sterling heiress turned the entire city upside down, desperately searching for me.

The candlelight on the dining table flickered out. The food had already gone stone cold.

I picked up my phone and checked the time. It was already 3:00 a.m.

I wasn’t the least bit sleepy. For someone with severe clinical depression, chronic insomnia was a regular torment.

When it was at its worst, I couldn't fall asleep for whole nights without Chloe by my side.

After that, no matter how late it got, she always made sure to come home.

Yet, five hours ago, Chloe sent me her last message of the night:

"Just wrapped up at work. I’ll be home soon."

That "soon" had stretched into five excruciating hours.

I didn't text to ask why she wasn't back. Half an hour after that message, I saw her all over the entertainment news.

Location: JFK International Airport.

The headline was sensationalized: "Sterling Heiress Reunites with Her Ex! Caught in a Tearful Airport Embrace!"

That photo of her hugging Julian was plastered right at the top.

Deep down, I knew Chloe wasn't coming home tonight.

Still, a faint glimmer of hope lingered in my chest. Maybe she would at least shoot me a text.

Even if it was just a cheap excuse.

But until the candle burned down to ashes and the dawn broke, my screen remained completely dark.

My emotions flared up, triggering my depression with full force.

I got up and took the pill bottle from the drawer, but my hands were shaking so violently that pills scattered all over the hardwood floor.

I hurriedly swallowed a few sleeping pills just to force my mind to shut down.

A rustle at the door jolted me awake. I sat up from the sofa just in time to see Chloe walking inside.

She must have stayed up all night, but the dark circles under her eyes couldn’t conceal the radiant glow on her face.

The moment her eyes met mine, that warmth vanished instantly.

"Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

Her gaze swept over the cold, untouched dinner on the table. She paused, then frowned with pure impatience.

"It’s cold. Have the maid throw it out."

I stared at her, unable to hold back the question burning in my throat. "It's our third anniversary. Did you go to see Julian?"

I gripped my trembling hand, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"You promised me you would never see him again."

Chloe scowled. "He rarely comes back to the country. What's the big deal if I just picked him up from the airport?"

"It was just a quick ride. We won't be in touch after this."

"Besides, what's so special about an anniversary? Can you stop making a scene over every trivial little thing?"

A bitter taste flooded my mouth.

So our wedding anniversary was just "trivial little drama" to her?

She claimed she didn't care about dates like this. But I vividly remembered that back when she dated Julian, she kept a dedicated note on her phone.

It was packed with every anniversary they shared.

One month together, ninety-nine days together, their very first road trip...

Every little milestone filled entire pages.

Yet with me, even mentioning our wedding anniversary was treated as an annoying chore.

Chloe slammed the bedroom door shut with a loud click. As she moved, a soft pink invitation slipped out of her designer tote.

I barely caught a glimpse before she frantically shoved it back into her bag.

Before locking herself in the room, Chloe tossed out a cold remark.

"I’ve got things to handle over the next couple of days. I’m staying at my parents' place. Don't call me."

I stayed silent. It was always like this.

Whenever I expressed even the slightest dissatisfaction, she packed her bags and stormed off to her family's penthouse.

In the past, I would always apologize instantly, begging her to stay.

Not today. I was too exhausted, drained of every ounce of energy.

Just as I was about to grab some takeout to fill my stomach that evening, my phone buzzed.

It was a friend request from an unknown number.

The second I accepted it, a digital invitation popped onto my screen.

Soft pink. Identical to the one in Chloe’s bag.

"It's my homecoming party tonight. Aren't you coming, kid?"

Seeing the word 'kid,' a sharp pain pierced my chest.

The dark shadows of my past crept back over me.

"Chloe told me you were busy, but I figured that’s just because I hadn't personally invited you."

The last message sat there coldly:

"Coming?"

It was a silent, arrogant provocation.

The next day, I hailed an Uber to the venue.

I didn't care about anything else. I just wanted to see what Chloe was hiding from me so desperately.