I Only Needed Your Face

After the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, the first thing Eliza Lockett did was ask her lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Ms. Lockett, once both parties sign, the marriage will automatically dissolve after the 30-day cooling-off period." Eliza's expression did not change. "Can I sign his name for him?" The lawyer hesitated, then quickly shook his head. "No. He must appear in person." "He agrees to the divorce," she said evenly. "He's just busy with work and can't come. If you don't believe me, I'll call him now and let you hear it yourself." She took out her phone and dialed Alban Sidham. "Alban, there's something I need to talk to you about—" He cut her off before she could finish. His voice was cold and edged with impatience. "Didn't I tell you to handle your own affairs? I don't have time for your trivial matters." Chapter 1 A soft, teasing voice came through the line. "Al, you're peeling them too fast. I can't eat that much…" A sharp click followed. The call ended. Eliza Lockett smiled at the lawyer as if she had just proved her point. "See?" The lawyer's brow furrowed. He hesitated, then finally nodded. After she signed, a weight lifted from Eliza's chest so completely it almost felt unreal. She went home in a light mood. She took a framed photo from her collection and wiped the glass with slow, careful strokes. A maid passed and spotted her at it again. She drifted over to another maid, and the two whispered as if the room itself might keep their secrets. "Mrs. Sidham really is crazy about Mr. Sidham. She looks at his photo a dozen times a day and polishes that frame like it's a ritual." "What's the point of loving him? He doesn't like her. He's always ice-cold." "Exactly. When Miss Buckley was overseas, he flew out to see her all the time. Now that she's back, he's with her every day. He barely even comes home." Pity colored their voices, the kind reserved for someone clinging to a losing bet. Eliza did not take any of it personally. The man in that photograph was not Alban Sidham. The man she loved had never been him. She had married Alban for one reason: his face. It was the same as Kyran Sidham's. A mirror image. Alban and Kyran were identical twins. Eliza fell in love with Kyran in college. They spoke about the future as if it were certain. After graduation, he would take her to meet his family. Then they would marry. He died before any of it could happen. It was an accident. A sudden phone call slammed a door on the rest of her life. He left no last words, no farewell, nothing she could hold except the hollow space where he had been. She had been deeply loved once. That was the problem. After Kyran, she knew she would never love anyone the same way again. She did not try to pretend otherwise. Thus, she chose something colder. Something she could control. She wanted a child who looked like him. A small, living proof that he had existed, someone to keep her company in the years ahead. Kyran's twin brother was the only person in the world who could give her that. After that, she began to draw closer to Alban. For him, she did things she would once have called insane. At the time, Alban's secret crush, Davina Buckley, was abroad. His family's pressure to marry had become a constant irritation, and Eliza's proposal offered a clean exit. He agreed, with terms. She could have anything she wanted from him—status, money, a name on paper. But he would never love her. It was an ugly condition to state aloud. She accepted it without hesitation. Alban took that as proof she loved him too much to think clearly. He never bothered to look for another reason. On their wedding day, Davina called with a cold. Alban did not show up. He left Eliza standing alone before the guests, humiliated under the lights, while he ran to be where he truly wanted to be. After the wedding, it only worsened. He flew overseas constantly to see Davina. Sometimes, he even made Eliza buy the tickets. Their bedroom displayed photos of Davina. His study held things set aside for Davina. Even the garden behind the villa was planted with Davina's favorite flowers. One story after another turned Eliza into a joke among their circle. She never argued. She never explained. She simply played her role as his wife. The only thing about which she remained stubborn was this: whenever Alban was home, she made sure they slept together. Alban thought he understood why. He believed she was desperate for him, just as he was desperate for Davina. He loved Davina deeply, in a way that made him cautious rather than brave. He prized her so much he feared losing her, and because of that fear, he never confessed. In the end, Davina left the country with someone else. Eliza never corrected Alban's assumptions. There was no point. Now she was pregnant. She had what she came for, and that meant it was time to leave. Chapter 2 Alban arrived at the house early the next morning. He barely glanced at Eliza before getting straight to the point. "Your chicken soup is good, right?" She had not even opened her mouth when he continued, impatience sharpening his tone, "Vina wants some. Make it now and come with me to deliver it." Eliza lifted her gaze, ready to refuse. Her eyes fell on the watch at his wrist, and she reconsidered. "Fine. I'll make it the way she likes it. But I want your watch." Alban did not hesitate. He removed it and set it on the table in front of her. "Take it." This was nothing new. He often sent her on errands for Davina. Sometimes, she booked flights so he could visit her. Sometimes, she stood in line for hours to buy the snacks Davina liked. Other times, he had her choose gifts on his behalf. Eliza never refused. She only asked for payment. She never asked for money. Instead, she chose items he had used for years: a fountain pen, a watch, sometimes a book. None of them held much monetary value. They were simply familiar objects he kept close. Alban watched her tuck the watch away as if it were a treasure. At last, he asked, "Do you really love me that much? Do you want to keep everything I've ever touched?" Eliza paused. She knew he had misunderstood. Everything she asked for had once belonged to Kyran. After Kyran died, Alban gathered his brother's belongings. He carried some of them out of habit, perhaps out of remembrance. Eliza collected them for the same reason. She wanted something to remember him by. She offered no explanation. She simply smiled. "Yes," she said softly. "I really love you…" 'Your brother,' she continued inwardly. Something in her eyes unsettled Alban. A flicker of unease crossed his mind. Images surfaced of everything she had done for him over the years. The thought unsettled him. His brow tightened before he forced himself back to composure. His expression cooled. "Hurry up and make the soup." Once she finished, they left for the hospital together. In the car, Alban recalled her call from the day before. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about yesterday?" Eliza cradled the thermos in her lap and looked out the window. "Nothing important. I already handled it." He gave a brief acknowledgement. "Vina's been hospitalized with a cold. I'll be taking care of her. Don't bother me with unnecessary things." Eliza nodded obediently. No trace of displeasure crossed her face. Alban studied her profile. Over the years, she had never pushed back against anything he asked. Not once. Did she really love him that much? Enough to watch him treat another woman this way and remain calm? … They entered Davina's room together. Davina froze at the sight of Eliza. "I was just joking yesterday. I didn't think you'd actually bring her here!" Eliza set the thermos down and poured the soup into a bowl. Her voice remained even. "When you mention something, he takes it seriously." Alban stiffened at her words. Instead of satisfaction, an inexplicable discomfort settled in his chest. He stood, took the bowl from her hands, and said flatly, "You can head back. I've got this." Eliza did not respond. She picked up her bag and turned toward the door. As she closed it, she caught a final glimpse of Alban holding the bowl and feeding Davina with careful attention. "Slow down," he murmured. "It's hot. I also bought you the cakes you like." Davina's eyes lit up. "They're three blocks away! You actually went to get them?" Eliza shut the door behind her and did not look back. Chapter 3 The days that followed unfolded exactly as Alban had promised. He barely left the hospital, staying at Davina's side around the clock. When urgent matters arose at the company, his assistant delivered a laptop and documents directly to her room and arranged them before him so he could work without stepping away. If Davina so much as mentioned craving a particular fruit, Alban would send a private jet overseas to procure it. The fruit would return the same day, washed, sliced, and set neatly on her table. To coax her into eating more, he rewarded her bite by bite, placing a gold bar beside her plate for every mouthful she swallowed. The story dominated headlines for days. Eliza saw every report. She only offered a distant smile, as though the spectacle had nothing to do with her. … On the day Jessleton University celebrated its centennial anniversary, Eliza attended as an invited alumna, recognized as one of its outstanding graduates. After signing in at the gate, she immediately spotted a familiar pair in the crowd. They stood out too clearly to miss. Alban was there, with Davina at his side. They had already seen her. Avoiding them was impossible, so Eliza walked over. Davina greeted her first, her tone bright and friendly. "Ms. Lockett, you graduated from Jessleton University too?" Eliza nodded. Alban studied her with a slight frown. "Which year?" "Class of '17." Davina's eyes widened. "Then you were in the same year as Al's brother." She leaned closer, curiosity plain on her face. "Ms. Lockett, did you know his brother? I heard Ky had a girlfriend back then, someone he absolutely adored. He even planned to bring her home to meet the family. It's just a shame that…" Her voice trailed off. Realizing she had crossed a line, Davina quickly apologized to Alban. Kyran's death remained a forbidden subject in the Sidham family. They had sealed that wound for years and allowed no one to touch it. Eliza felt her body tremble. Beneath her sleeve, her fingers curled into her palm until her nails bit into her skin. Her chest tightened, as if unseen hands were pressing the air from her lungs. Alban's expression darkened as well. Because it was Davina who brought it up, he swallowed his irritation and shifted the subject. He said they had walked enough and should go eat. The three of them went to a restaurant. When they ordered, every dish catered to Davina's preferences. Throughout the meal, Alban attended to her with meticulous care. He cut her steak and removed every bone from the fish before placing it neatly before her. Halfway through, Eliza excused herself to the restroom. As she approached the stalls, she heard Davina inside, speaking on the phone. Eliza had no interest in listening. She was about to knock as a courtesy when she heard Alban's name. "Of course. If I didn't do it this way, how would Al stay completely devoted to me? "You mean his wife? What kind of wife is she? The way Al treats her, everyone in our circle can see it. "Don't worry. I know my limits. I'm much better at playing hard to get than you are. As long as I pretend not to notice his feelings, we can keep this ambiguous. That way his feelings will only deepen, until he can't live without me. "The harder something is to get, the more precious it becomes. You understand, right?" 'So that's how Davina sees it.' Eliza smiled faintly. 'The innocent crush everyone believes in is nothing of the sort.' The door opened. Davina stepped out and froze when she saw Eliza at the sink, adjusting her clothes. Her expression shifted at once. She bit her lip. "How long have you been here? How much did you hear?" Eliza remained silent. Davina hurried on. "You'd better not tell Al anything. He won't believe you." Watching her flustered panic, Eliza felt only boredom. She dried her hands and turned to leave. Davina suddenly grabbed her wrist from behind. Eliza had no time to react. In the next instant, Davina hurled herself into the wall, then collapsed to the floor in tears. The noise drew Alban immediately. He arrived to find Davina on the ground, tears streaking her face, her forehead already red and swelling. Eliza stood nearby, looking down at her with a cold expression. Alban rushed forward and gathered Davina into his arms. Then his sharp gaze cut toward Eliza. "Did you push her?" Before Eliza could answer, Davina cried out, "Al, my head hurts so much. Ms. Lockett seems to really hate me." At the sight of her injury, Alban's heart tightened. He lifted Davina and strode away. Eliza turned to leave, but he shoved her aside with force. She stood near the stairs. Her foot slipped. Her body pitched forward and tumbled down, step after step. The world spun. Pain tore through her as if her bones were splintering. She forced herself upright and braced one hand against the floor. When she lifted it, her palm was slick with blood. Panic surged at the thought of the child inside her. Her voice shook as she cried out, "Alban, don't go. Call an ambulance. Please. Call 911." The man at the top of the stairs looked down at her. His eyes were cold, stripped of mercy. "You dared lay a hand on Vina. This is your punishment." He turned and walked away, Davina still in his arms. As his figure disappeared, Eliza felt her heart split open. She could endure any injury herself. Her child could not. Blood spread across the floor, a vivid red that deepened her terror. Despair closed in. With trembling hands, she fumbled for her phone and dialed emergency services. She forced herself to give the address. After that, her strength gave out. Darkness swallowed her. … In that long stretch of black, she dreamed of Kyran standing beside her as he once had. He rested a gentle hand over her stomach, his voice warm and tender. "I wonder if our baby is a boy or a girl. Either way, I'll love them." "Who do you think the baby will resemble more? You or me?" she asked. "Like you," he answered with a smile. "You're the most beautiful." Sunlight lit his face with such clarity that it seemed he had never left. She reached out to touch his cheek. Her trembling fingers met only cold air. When she opened her eyes, she lay in a hospital bed. Gauze wrapped her injuries. A doctor stood beside her, changing the dressing. When he saw she was awake, his tone sharpened with concern. "You're pregnant. How did you fall down such a high staircase? Fortunately, you were lucky. The baby is safe. Have your husband come handle the paperwork." Eliza stared at the ceiling. "I don't have a husband," she said quietly. "My husband is already dead." The ward door flew open. Alban stood there, his face dark with anger. "Who did you say was dead?" Chapter 4 The doctor clearly assumed it was a simple marital dispute and quickly tried to defuse the situation. "You two should stop arguing first. Your wife's stomach—" Eliza sat up abruptly. "Doctor, weren't you going to get my medication?" He paused, caught the implication, and said nothing further. Without another word, he turned and left. Alban looked back at her. "The doctor mentioned your stomach. What's wrong with it?" "Nothing," Eliza replied evenly. "He just meant I was injured there too." His expression hardened, though his tone remained cold and controlled. "If you hadn't laid hands on Vina, you wouldn't have fallen down the stairs. "You were at fault first. Go apologize to Vina." Eliza shook her head. "I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I apologize? The restaurant has cameras. Watch the footage, and you'll see the truth." Alban's face darkened. "I don't need to check the cameras. I believe Vina. You will apologize." After everything that had happened, exhaustion weighed heavily on Eliza. She wanted nothing more than to rest, focus on the baby, and recover. She had no energy left to argue. After a brief silence, she asked quietly, "If I apologize, will you leave me alone?" The near-resignation in her voice gave Alban pause. Something about her felt different. Even so, he nodded. Eliza said nothing more. She rose from the bed and walked straight to Davina's hospital room. Standing before her, Eliza met her gaze calmly. "I'm sorry." She turned to Alban. "Is that enough?" Without waiting for a response, she walked out, leaving Alban standing there with a grim expression. … During her hospital stay, Eliza often overheard nurses and doctors praising Alban's gentleness and devotion toward Davina. Davina's injuries were minor, yet he had arranged for the city's top specialists to attend to her personally. He fed her whatever she wanted to eat. When she needed the restroom, he carried her to the door. Eliza ignored it all. She focused on one thing only: protecting her pregnancy. … On the day of her discharge, Eliza completed her final examinations. The doctor assured her that the baby was healthy. She rested a hand on her stomach and asked, "If children are born to identical twin brothers, will they look very similar?" The question took the doctor by surprise. After a moment's thought, he replied, "It depends on genetics. If the paternal genes are dominant, it's certainly possible." Relief loosened the tension in her chest. She thanked him and turned to leave. At the hospital entrance, she ran into Davina, who was also being discharged. Alban stood beside her. When Davina saw Eliza, she slipped into her usual innocent demeanor and smiled sweetly. "Ms. Lockett, I won't hold what happened against you. Let's still be friends. To celebrate my discharge, Al arranged a gathering. Come with us." Before Eliza could refuse, Davina took her arm and led her to the car. … By the time they arrived at the private room, several friends from their circle had already gathered. Throughout the evening, Alban's attention never wavered from Davina. He peeled fruit for her, intercepted drinks meant for her, and draped his jacket over her legs. Envious glances circled the table. As for Eliza, the so-called Mrs. Sidham, she did not look at them once the entire night. Later, someone proposed a game: whoever lost would choose truth, dare, or drink. Midway through the game, Eliza lost a round. Earlier, whenever Davina had lost, Alban had taken the drink in her place without hesitation. Eliza knew he would never do the same for her in front of everyone. She chose truth. A guest with a flair for drama glanced at Davina, fully aware of the tension between them, and asked with a grin, "Is the person you like here tonight?" Eliza kept her gaze lowered. She lifted her glass and took a calm sip of juice. "No." Chapter 5 The room fell silent. No one had expected that answer. Everyone in their circle knew Eliza's reputation. She had chased Alban relentlessly, married him, and catered to his every demand. For her to say that in front of everyone was the same as slapping him across the face. Alban's expression darkened. He picked up his glass and downed several drinks in quick succession. In the next rounds of the game, he could not focus. Eliza's words replayed in his mind, and he lost again and again. His friends, eager to stir things up, suggested they check his photo album and his pinned contact. The result surprised no one. His album was filled with photos of Davina. Some showed her smiling. Others captured her in quiet moments or in candid shots taken from behind. His pinned contact list held only one name: Davina Buckley. He was so distracted that he failed to realize he had just made his feelings for her public. Color crept up Davina's cheeks. She lowered her head and glanced at him shyly. "Al, I didn't realize you felt so strongly about me…" The rest of the sentence seemed too embarrassing to say. No one pressed her to finish. When the gathering began to break up, Davina spoke again. "Al, things haven't felt safe around my place lately. The security guards have been checking for days and still haven't figured out what's going on. Could you come stay with me for a few days?" The group erupted in cheers. Only Eliza remained silent, calmly spearing pieces of fruit on her plate with a fork. Davina enjoyed performing for her. Eliza did not mind watching. What no one expected was Alban's response. He had always indulged Davina without hesitation. This time, he refused. "Vina, I still have some things to handle," he said. "I'll come by later, all right?" He sent Davina off with the driver, then turned and grabbed Eliza's wrist, pulling her toward the car. … The ride home passed in heavy silence. As soon as they stepped inside, Alban caught the scent in the air. A bitter herbal smell lingered throughout the house. Eliza had been drinking herbal remedies to stabilize the pregnancy. He usually paid no attention, but now the scent struck him all at once. He studied her. "What exactly are you taking? You drink it three times a day without fail." A flicker of guilt rose in Eliza's chest, but she kept her expression steady. "Just something to nourish my body. I'll need it for a while. If the smell bothers you, you could stay at Miss Buckley's place. That way you won't have to smell it, and you can protect her at the same time." Alban froze. In all their years of marriage, she had worked without complaint and never objected to his feelings for Davina. This was the first time she had pushed him toward her. He should have felt relieved. Instead, a strange tightness gripped his chest. Then a thought took shape, and he felt certain he understood. "You're jealous? That answer during the game—was it because you're upset I've been taking care of Vina and ignoring you?" As he spoke, his body relaxed. "When we got married, I told you clearly. I love someone else. I can give you a title, not love. And after what happened last time, you were at fault. Taking care of her was only right. "Stop sulking. Didn't you always want the sculpture in my study? I'll give it to you." Eliza had intended to explain. After hearing that, she changed her mind. The sculpture was a birthday gift Kyran had carved by hand for his brother. She had wanted it for years. She had asked countless times, but Alban had never agreed. Now he offered it as if it meant nothing. She nodded. "I understand. I won't cause trouble anymore." When she yielded so easily, Alban's lips curved in satisfaction. *I knew it. Just as I thought.* At that moment, Davina called again. This time, he did not hesitate. He turned and left at once. Chapter 6 Alban did not come home for several days. Instead, Davina checked in from time to time with messages, photos, and short videos. Some showed Alban from behind as he cooked in her kitchen. Others captured him at the piano, playing for her alone. A few clips showed him tidying her apartment, sleeves rolled up, movements patient and familiar. Davina sent them for one reason only: to ensure Eliza understood how deeply he loved her and how completely he indulged her. On ordinary days, the images stirred nothing in Eliza. She felt no anger, no jealousy. They barely caused a ripple. But on Kyran's birthday, the photos struck differently. When Kyran was alive, he had treated her the same way, gently and attentively, as if she were something precious he needed to protect. After he died, no one ever loved her like that again. She baked a cake and set it on the table. Then she opened Davina's posts once more. Memories rose unbidden. Kyran stood beside her, smiling, teasing, holding her hand. When her gaze shifted to Alban's identical face on the screen, her sadness deepened. She lowered her head onto the table and closed her eyes. Tears soaked the sleeve beneath her cheek. When Alban came home, that was the scene that greeted him. Eliza had fallen asleep, her phone loosely clutched in her hand, tear tracks still fresh on her face. He paused before walking closer. Only then did he notice the cake on the table. She had remembered his birthday. She even knew he liked matcha. In childhood, he had always shared his birthday with Kyran. Their parents favored the older twin, and no one prepared a cake just for him. After Kyran died, he stopped celebrating altogether. No one remembered. He had not marked his birthday in years. He was rarely home on that day. Had she been quietly celebrating for him every year? He sat beside her. His hand brushed her phone by accident, and he caught a glimpse of the screen from the corner of his eye. He picked it up. The photo album was open. Thousands of photos filled the screen, all of him. There were images of his back, his profile, his smile. Some showed him with his eyes closed in thought. He scrolled to the bottom. The earliest photos dated back eight years. The most recent were from three years ago. For a moment, he could not name what he felt. Shock came first. Then a flicker of emotion that moved him. Beneath it all lay a faint, undeniable satisfaction. 'So Eliza has been secretly in love with me for that long,' he thought. Eliza stirred and woke. When she saw him holding her phone, she panicked and reached out to snatch it back. Alban assumed she felt embarrassed that her secret had been exposed. His voice hardened. "Who told you to celebrate my birthday? Don't you know I never celebrate it?" She froze. Only then did she realize he had misunderstood again. He did not notice her expression. He pulled the cake closer. "Just this once," he said. "There won't be a next time. Go on. Light the candles for me." There was no room to correct him now, so Eliza let the misunderstanding stand. She lit the candles, sang the birthday song, and cut the cake for him. When she looked at him, her eyes brimmed with tenderness. His face was exactly the same as Kyran's. She told herself, 'It's fine. I will simply pretend I'm celebrating Kyran's birthday instead.' Chapter 7 After that birthday, something in Alban shifted. He still spent most of his time with Davina, yet he began coming home almost every day. Even when they exchanged only a few words, he made a point of standing where Eliza could see him, as though to assert his presence. One afternoon, after Alban left, Eliza glanced through the documents he had brought home. An auction catalog lay among them. She flipped through it without much interest, then stopped short. A crystal sphere appeared among the featured lots. Her breath caught. Kyran had once planned to make that crystal sphere for her. He had set gems inside it and engraved their initials on them. He had intended it as a gift and had never mentioned it to anyone. She had no idea how it had found its way to an auction house. Because he had made it for her, he had kept it private. No one else knew where it came from. As she stared at the photograph in the catalog, her vision blurred. She knew she had to have it. …. Eliza changed her clothes and hurried to the auction house. When she arrived, she saw that Alban and Davina were already there. Surprise crossed Alban's face when he noticed her. Before anyone spoke, the auction began. After they took their seats, Davina leaned against Alban's shoulder with easy familiarity, as if she were his rightful wife. Concerned she might be cold, Alban removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. "Don't catch a cold." She allowed him to fuss over her and replied sweetly, "Al, you promised me. Today, whatever I want, you'll bid on it for me." His voice remained low and steady. "When have I ever broken a promise to you?" Davina smiled, satisfied. Eliza ignored their closeness. She kept her eyes fixed on the stage and waited for the item that mattered to her. At last, the crystal sphere appeared. The starting bid was 200,000 dollars. Eliza raised her paddle without hesitation. "400,000." Her intent was clear. The starting price was reasonable. Her bid already stretched the limit. Few bidders would go higher. She had not expected Davina to want it as well. "Al, I like that crystal ball too," Davina said lightly. Alban lifted his paddle at once. "600,000." Eliza's heart lurched. She knew she could not compete with him financially, yet she raised her paddle again. "800,000." Neither side retreated. The price climbed without pause. 1,000,000… 1,400,000… 1,800,000… When it reached 2,000,000, Eliza knew she had reached her limit. She did not have the funds to continue. If the bidding went any higher, she would lose. Yet the crystal sphere meant too much to surrender without trying. For the first time, she softened her voice and looked at Alban with restrained pleading. "Can you let me have this one?" she asked quietly. "I really like it." She had never asked him for anything like this. Hesitation flickered in Alban's eyes. Then Davina spoke. "But I really like it too," she said gently. "If I don't get it, I'll be upset." The warmth in his gaze disappeared. Alban's expression hardened. He raised his paddle again and signaled a full override. No matter how high the bidding rose, he would exceed it until the item was his. At that moment, Eliza understood that she had already lost. Chapter 8 When the auction ended, Davina bounced over to Alban, the crystal sphere cradled in her hands. "It's not even that special," she said lightly. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered bidding." As she spoke, she tilted her wrist as though by accident. The sphere slipped from her fingers, struck the floor, and shattered. Fragments scattered across the marble. Eliza dropped to her knees. She gathered the pieces one by one, her hands trembling as she tried to fit them back together. But once something broke, it remained broken. No matter how carefully she worked, the cracks would never disappear. Her heart seemed to fracture with the crystal. For years, no matter how Alban had hurt her, she had endured it without admitting the pain. Now grief poured in, crushing and bottomless, as though she were falling into an endless void. Why? Why would he refuse her even this? She had never tried to compete with Davina. If Davina wanted Alban, she could have him. Eliza had never attempted to take him away. Alban noticed her devastation and walked over. "It's just a trinket. There are plenty like it. If you want one, I'll buy you another." Eliza looked up at him, her eyes rimmed red. She no longer had the strength to pretend. "This crystal sphere was one of a kind." She gathered the shards into her arms and turned away. … Over the next few days, she deliberately severed every point of contact with him. When he came home, she feigned sleep. When he went out, she locked herself in her room until she heard the door close. They lived under the same roof yet went days without seeing each other. One night, Alban drank too much at a gala. As usual, his friends called Eliza to pick him up. "We're at Dusk Bar," someone shouted over the noise. "Hurry." Her voice remained steady. "I can't make it. From now on, call Davina for things like this." She ended the call without hesitation. The group stared at the phone in disbelief, then turned to Alban. "What's going on?" someone asked. "She used to show up the second we called." "Did the devoted wife finally grow a backbone?" Alban's thoughts tangled. He remembered her red eyes, the way she had walked away clutching those broken shards. His chest tightened restlessly, as though something clawed at his heart. He brushed off his friends, slid into the car, and told the driver to take him home. … When Alban arrived, Eliza sat in the living room. Surprise flickered across her face. She had not expected him so soon. He pulled several crystal spheres from his bag and tossed them onto the table in front of her. "That's enough," he said, impatience edging his voice. "I told you there are plenty like it. How long are you going to keep this up?" Eliza did not glance at them but said nothing. She stood and turned to leave. Her phone, which she had left on the table, buzzed. Alban leaned over and saw the screen. It was a flight confirmation. His hand shot out and gripped her wrist. His voice turned cold. "You bought a plane ticket? Where are you going?" She freed her wrist and answered evenly. "I'm tired of staying home. I want to travel and clear my head." He hesitated. Something felt wrong. Before he could press her, his own phone rang. It was Davina. The moment he answered, her weak, tearful voice came through. "Al, I twisted my ankle. It hurts so much…" His focus shifted at once, and all concern for Eliza disappeared. He rushed out and told the driver to head straight to the Buckley residence. Just like that, Eliza's imminent departure slipped from his mind. Chapter 9 On the day she left, Eliza called the lawyer. "Today is the last day of the cooling-off period. Is there anything else I need to do?" "No. As of today, your marriage has been legally dissolved," the lawyer answered with measured care. "Ms. Lockett, congratulations. You have your freedom back." This time, Eliza's smile was genuine. She lowered her hand to her abdomen and let it rest there. 'Yes. From today on, it will be just me and the child. We can start over,' she thought. She would find a place with beautiful scenery and spend her days remembering Kyran while raising their baby. After she hung up, she packed a small suitcase. Most important, she gathered every item she had collected over the years from Alban, everything that had once belonged to Kyran, and placed them carefully inside. As she reached the door, she nearly collided with Alban, who had just returned home. He paused when he saw the luggage in her hand. "Where are you going?" "On vacation," she replied, as she had before. He thought of the plane ticket he had seen a few days ago. "Where to? I happen to be free lately. I can go with you." The offer caught her off guard. He rarely suggested traveling with her. Alban seemed to realize he had sounded too eager. His expression cooled at once. "Think of it as compensation for last time. After this, don't dwell on it." She was still considering how to refuse when his phone rang. Davina's soft voice carried clearly through the speaker. "Al, I need to talk to you. Can we meet?" On any other day, he would have agreed at once and gone to her. Today, he hesitated. "Another time," he said. Silence followed. Davina was stunned. He had never refused her before. After a brief pause, she added, "What I need to tell you is very important." Alban frowned. A moment later, he relented. "All right. I'll come over now." Relief slipped from Eliza in a quiet breath. She lowered her eyes, afraid her expression might betray her. He misread her reaction and cleared his throat. "I know you've liked me for a long time. But I can't abandon Vina for you. She'll always come first. Let's forget this trip. I'll go with you next time." She knew he had misunderstood again, but she was too tired to correct him. It was the last day. She would let him believe whatever he wished. Her silence convinced him she was upset, so he offered to drive her to the airport. … The car sped along the elevated highway. Eliza watched the city slide past the window and said her final goodbye in silence. She would never return. At the airport entrance, she stepped out, cradling the box in her arms as if it were something fragile. Alban gave a faint smile. "You really like me that much? You're even taking my things on a trip. That's not very convenient." Before she could answer, his phone rang again. Davina urged him to hurry. He ended the call and said, "Call me when you're back. I'll pick you up." Then he got into the car and drove away without looking back. Eliza watched the car disappear into traffic and allowed herself a free, unguarded smile. She would not return. They would never see each other again. She took out her phone, inserted the new SIM card she had prepared, snapped the old one in half, and dropped it into a trash can. Holding the box close, she walked straight into the airport and did not look back.