Chapter 1

I signed the divorce papers, but Adrian Caldwell thought it was a gift I wanted.

After he signed, he pretended to be affectionate and pinched my cheek.

"For the baby, I'll give you anything you want."

He didn't know our child had already died on the night he accompanied his first love to watch the meteor shower.

Those hundred and one missed calls-he dismissed them with "I had work to do."

Later, I stood on the Nobel Prize stage while he lay in a liver cancer ward.

His final wish was to see me one last time.

I brought my new husband with me.

Clarissa Hart POV

I had just finished watering the white roses on the windowsill when the lawyer called.

"Clarissa, the divorce papers have been sent out as you instructed. Please keep an eye out for them."

"Alright."

I hung up and ran my fingertips over the damp leaves.

The doorbell rang.

The courier handed me an envelope. I signed for it.

The moment I closed the door, the smart lock beeped from the entryway. Adrian was home.

He walked up to me and bent down, pressing his cheek against my flat stomach.

"I'm back." His voice was low, laced with exhaustion and apology. "I've been so busy these past few days. Didn't have time to reply to your messages."

I felt his warm breath penetrate my thin loungewear and touch my skin.

"Has our baby been good?"

I lowered my eyes, looking at the crown of his head. I didn't move.

"Adrian." I spoke.

The man looked up, confusion in his eyes.

It had been a long time since I'd called him by his full name.

I didn't meet his gaze. I turned, picked up the envelope from the entryway table, tore open the seal, and pulled out the document inside.

I flipped to the last page, covered the terms with my palm, and left only the signature line at the bottom exposed.

"This is the gift I want," I said. "A gift for after the baby is born."

Adrian froze for a moment, then smiled.

He took the pen, didn't even glance at what I'd covered, and signed his name without a second thought.

After signing, he returned the document and pen to me, affectionately pinching my cheek.

"Once I give it to you, it's yours," he said with a soft laugh. "I'm not afraid you'll take everything I own."

I looked at his name on the paper and found it absurd.

I didn't want everything he owned.

I wanted freedom.

Just then, the phone in Adrian's pocket began to vibrate.

He pulled it out and glanced at the screen, the light illuminating his face.

Caller ID: Seraphina Quinn.

His expression didn't change. He immediately pressed the power button to silence it and put the phone back in his pocket.

"Something urgent at the company," he said, standing up and adjusting his shirt cuffs. "I'll go handle it in the study."

He walked toward the study. After two steps, he stopped as if suddenly remembering something.

"By the way, why did you call me so many times the other day?"

I looked up at him.

"It was nothing."

Adrian didn't press further. He turned and went into the study, closing the door behind him.

I was alone in the living room.

I looked down at the divorce papers in my hands.

Adrian's signature-sharp and decisive, just like the man himself.

Nothing.

How could it be nothing?

Five days ago, I was driving in the rain when my car skidded and crashed into the guardrail on the elevated highway.

Blood flowed from between my legs, staining the light-colored seat.

I lay in the ambulance, waves of pain tearing through my abdomen.

The baby was slipping away.

With trembling hands, I dialed Adrian's number. I just wanted him to come see the baby one last time.

First call: no answer.

Second call: no answer.

Tenth call.

Fiftieth call.

One hundred and first call.

On the other end, only the mechanical voice of voicemail.

Finally, the phone died.

I lay on the hospital bed, the sheets cold and hard beneath me.

The doctor announced that the baby was gone. As I listened, my heart grew strangely calm.

I finally understood.

Adrian wasn't busy. He just didn't care.

While he was rejecting all my calls, he was accompanying his newly returned first love, Seraphina, to an astronomical observatory outside the city to watch a once-in-a-century meteor shower.

Seraphina's Instagram had photos to prove it.

In the photo, Seraphina leaned on Adrian's shoulder, smiling sweetly.

The caption read: The meteors are beautiful, and so are you.

After four years of marriage, I'd always thought that even if Adrian didn't love me, at least he liked me.

It wasn't until that moment that I saw the truth.

I was just a substitute for Seraphina. A shadow he used to ease his loneliness after his first love went abroad.

Now, the original had returned.

It was time for the substitute to exit the stage.

I picked up the signed divorce papers and gently ran my fingers over the ink that hadn't yet dried.