CHAPTER 1: CHAPTER 1: LET’S GET DIVORCED

Aeston, Serenity Peak Villa, Bedroom.

Amidst the tumultuous passion, the man devotedly kissed the mole on the woman’s chest.

Afterwards, Julian Lawson turned over and sat up.

"Let’s get a divorce." Julian’s voice held no emotion.

After the exercise, Serena was still a bit out of breath.

She turned over, bewildered, looking into his deep eyes.

They had been married for a year, and she didn’t understand the meaning behind his words.

"She has stomach cancer and only six months to live."

Julian lit a cigarette, the rising smoke clouding his face.

"Her dying wish is to be my wife."

Serena said nothing, the vast bedroom was silent.

The small light by the bed glowed softly, casting their shadows on the wall; though very close, they seemed far apart.

Perhaps noticing her reluctance, he slightly furrowed his brow.

"Just to humor her."

He said, "We’ll remarry in six months."

"Serena, she only has six months left."

His voice was calm, as though he was merely delivering news.

Serena stared blankly at the side of his face.

It seemed whatever he asked, she must agree.

As long as he said the word, she adhered to it as though obeying an imperial edict.

Indeed, the affection between them was always one-sided from her.

Young admiration.

Following him ever since adulthood.

That year, in the pouring rain, he stood in front of her, holding a shattered piece of wood, risking his life to tell her stepfather, "If you dare hurt Serena again, I’ll make you pay!"

She almost got beaten to death, but through the torrential rain and crimson blood, she saw his hand clutching the broken wood with white knuckles, and his eyes cold and determined.

He saved her life.

So she hopelessly fell in love with him.

Whatever he asked, she always did, going to great lengths to achieve it, better than anyone.

He would always pat her head afterwards, softly praising, "Serena, well done."

Though his words and kisses were always light, and their relationship was perpetually distant.

She believed it was merely his nature.

Thus, even when everyone said she was being foolish, she accepted it willingly.

Seven years, her entire youth, she has been trailing behind him.

A year ago, the health of the old patriarch suddenly declined, and within the Lawson Family, it was discussed to have him marry to lift spirits.

He sought her out, took her to get a marriage certificate.

She thought the years of affection had finally come to fruition, but after marriage, he remained distant, even feeling his growing annoyance towards her.

"Serena, are you listening to me?"

Apparently noticing her distraction, he frowned at her.

"Do we have to do this?" she asked.

He didn’t answer directly but avoided the topic, instead saying, "Serena, she’s very pitiful."

"What about me?" she asked instinctively.

He didn’t immediately reply, his deep eyes showing a hint of impatience.

After about three seconds, he spoke again.

"Serena, she’s dying."

"Perhaps you don’t know, she loves me. But because of our marriage, she didn’t want to hurt you, so we’ve never crossed the line."

"Even when I wanted to give her something, she always refused."

"She’s very kind, so just make room for her."

"Serena, don’t make me see you as malicious."

His voice was calm to the point of being icy, but her heart was torn.

To be involved with a married man and say a few hypocritical words is called kindness.

A wife unwilling to give up her husband is called malicious.

She looked at his face, identical to what it was years ago.

Deep, intelligent brows and eyes, a prominent nose, lips thin like a sword’s edge.

When did he start changing?

Probably from the day "she" appeared.

"Are you sure you want a divorce?" she asked one last time.

He didn’t answer, his lips forming a tight line.

Finally, his thin lips parted lightly.

He said, "Yes, you..."

"Okay."

Before he could say any more, she already agreed.

He paused for a moment.

Narrowed his eyes slightly, casting a scrutinizing gaze at her.

"Serena, you’ve become more clever."

His tone unusually carried a hint of anger.

"Did you calculate my need for your agreement, to coerce me?"

Serena said nothing, quietly looking at the shadows of the two on the white wall beside her.

Julian extinguished the cigarette in his hand, spoke no more, hurriedly dressed, then strode out.

As if he didn’t care about her thoughts or how humiliating, how hard to accept his request was.

Because he knew she couldn’t leave him.

It had been this way for so many years.

"Bang!"

Julian slammed the door as he left.

Only Serena remained in the bedroom.

She quietly watched the door he closed upon leaving.

Sitting alone at the bedside for a long time.

"Buzz."

The phone vibrated as a reminder.

Someone sent her a message.

She reached out and grabbed the phone.

The person noted as "her alt" sent her a message.

Her alt: [He came to see me again.]

The attached picture was Julian’s profile reflected in the entrance glass.

His face was warm with laughter, his eyes showing a tenderness she had never seen.

Her fingers paused slightly, Serena scrolled up.

The previous message was: [He said he has me in his heart.]

The one before that was: [Is it cold on rainy nights? I’m not cold because he’s by my side.]

The one further up was: [The unlovable one is the mistress, Serena, you were just his necessary choice for uplifting spirits, he appreciates my aesthetics, accepts my tastes, the one he loves is me.]

...

Such messages were numerous.

One by one, drop by drop, all proofs of his betrayal.

She never knew, the Julian Lawson who was always indifferent to her over seven years, was so alive before another person...

Scrolling to the end, she was no longer reading, only mechanically flipping through the records, stopping at the first one—[You should know who I am, are the flowers in the living room pretty today? I sent them, he said they’re beautiful.]

Ha...

Of course she knew who that was.

A renowned IP florist famous for arranging flowers in upscale villas, large apartments, and the like, Vera Hansen.

Serena had once shown these messages to Julian, but he said she had no evidence to prove Vera sent them.

Even suspected she deliberately used an alt to send these to herself to frame Vera.

Because the records rarely contained pictures, and even if there were, they were easily taken by ordinary people from a third perspective.

Except for today’s.

Should she show this to Julian?

Throwing the phone aside, Serena retrieved a document from the bottom layer of the bedside drawer.

Took out the pregnancy proof she had just received earlier today.

She was pregnant with Julian’s child.

At the worst possible time.

Tears fell onto the document, smudging a large area.

His heart no longer belonged to her, so what was the use even if it proved something?

Wiping away the tears.

Serena picked up Julian’s lighter and ignited the document.

He didn’t know that divorce was the last request she would agree to.

Seven years of youth, seven years of time.

She had repaid enough for his kindness.

And she wouldn’t love him anymore.