After confirming the final details of my staged death, I ended the call.
In two days, I would vanish from their lives forever, just as they all wished.
The faint scent of sandalwood drifted in from outside the door. Reflexively, I looked up. It was Dennis Malcolm, my so-called husband.
He wrapped me in an embrace, his voice gentle. “Who were you talking to just now?”
“Nothing important, just something about the gallery,” I said with a smile, forcing my tone to sound as natural as possible.
He lowered his head, planting a soft kiss on the crown of my hair. “You’ve had so much on your plate lately. Tonight, I’ll make something light for you, something to settle your stomach.”
For five years of marriage, Dennis had been nothing but tender, indulgent to the point of spoiling me.
Everyone said that once Dennis fell in love, it was a devotion that would last a lifetime.
I had believed that this was my happiness.
But now, I finally understood: this marriage wasn’t my happiness. It was his way of protecting Camille.
Dennis gently stroked my shoulder and suddenly said, “By the way, the Willows are hosting a celebration tomorrow. They’re announcing Camille’s pregnancy and congratulating her on being selected for the international art exhibition. You don’t need to go—I’ll send a gift and come straight home to be with you.”
I said, “I was thinking I’d attend the exhibition too—”
He interrupted me, his tone warm yet resolute. “You shouldn’t. Didn’t you always say you wanted a child? This is the perfect time to stay home and rest.”
Lowering my gaze, I hid the storm brewing within me.
All these years, we had never had a child.
I used to think it was fate, but now I realized he had never wanted one.
The reason he didn’t want me at the exhibition was likely the same as before: he didn’t want me to be competition standing in Camille’s way.
He kissed my forehead gently, completely unaware of the depth of the void my heart had fallen into. “Your birthday is the day after tomorrow. I’ve already planned a surprise for you.”
A surprise, huh?
