Chapter 2

It had started to rain outside at some point. The villa Marceline was at sat on a remote hillside, so it was hard to get a ride here. She had also taken a cab here earlier, and at the moment, everyone else had already driven off. So, she simply stood alone under the eaves, watching the drizzle fall. Just then, a black Rolls-Royce emerged from the rain and stopped before her. The window slid down, revealing the familiar face of Curtis' assistant, Ken Blevins. "Mrs. Wolfe, please get in." Marceline didn't move. She glanced through the crack in the window, as if she already knew someone was in the back seat. While she said nothing, Curtis' voice rang out, "Drive. Maybe the rain will wash the nonsense out of her head." Having been put in an awkward situation, Ken didn't glance at Marceline again and simply drove away. Marceline blinked as she watched the car disappear. She felt the pattering of rain drops on her face. It felt cold enough to pierce the bone. When Curtis was 18, he had looked forward to spending his 28th birthday with her. But now, when he had actually turned 28, he couldn't despise her more. In the past three years, he had barely come home, let alone touch her. People in their social circle said that Marceline was the most pitiful out of all the women who'd married into wealth. After all, other than a beautiful cage, she had nothing. To everyone else, she was the villainess who had stolen Jenna's fiancé and caused Lyana Farrell, Jenna's sister, to be in a vegetative state. She was a woman deserving of scorn. Yet, no one seemed to remember how she'd stood by Curtis from age 12 to 19—through his hardest years when he was at his lowest, to when he first made a name for himself. They all said that she was greedy to use seven years of companionship to emotionally blackmail Curtis when the Wolfe family had already made her their goddaughter. In the blink of an eye, another seven years had passed since then. So, in total, she had been by his side for 14 years now. Marceline lowered her gaze and stared at the e-hailing app on her phone. Still, no one was willing to take the order. … When Marceline finally made it back to Cloudcrest Bay, it was already 2:00 am. Her soaked dress clung to her ankles, and the late autumn air was so cold that her lips trembled. The lights inside were still on. As she stepped into the entryway, she spotted Curtis sitting on the couch, going through paperwork. Curtis had strikingly refined features. No matter how long one stared at his face, it could still take one's breath away. He was like an unscalable mountain of ice, cold and aloof as he sat on the couch. Of course, Marceline didn't think he was waiting for her. After all, they'd fallen out completely three years ago, and she had changed so much that even she couldn't recognize the bitter woman in the mirror. She quietly stepped inside, tossed her scarf into the trash at the door, and went upstairs. The master bedroom was still filled with her belongings, making the room feel a little cozier and tidier than if they weren't there. Since Curtis had barely returned home in the past three years, everyone had mocked her for living like a widow despite still being married. Marceline grabbed a small suitcase and began packing only her everyday clothes. As for the wall of luxury handbags and jewelry, she'd never touched them. Curtis had said that she didn't deserve them. In his eyes, she was a gold digger. Putting those luxuries in front of her but forbidding her to touch them was a way to make her suffer. As she dragged the suitcase downstairs, Marceline placed the signed divorce agreement on the coffee table. "Curtis, I've already signed it." Over the past three years, they'd end up arguing every time they met. Though in truth, Marceline was the only one lashing out, accusing Curtis of being cold and desperately trying to get his attention like a madwoman. As for Curtis, he would just stand there in silence, watching her lose control as if he were just some cold bystander. At that moment, Curtis looked up from his laptop and stared at her suitcase. He felt as if his throat was being burned, like someone had poured acid into it, searing all the way down to his gut. He let out a snort. His icy, scathing voice was like a sharp knife that stabbed at her eardrums. "You're only taking that with you? Are you planning on coming back every so often to pick up more? "Marceline Ballard, have you forgotten how you got your position in the first place? I was engaged to Jenna, and you drugged me at our engagement party so we'd be caught in bed together. You forced me to marry you." "It's all my fault." Marceline gripped the handle of her suitcase. Her face was somewhat pale, and her dress was still damp. She looked as if she might collapse at any moment. As she gripped the handle tighter, she finally spoke after a long silence. "Curtis, I just want to know… Why did you suddenly stop loving me?" She had asked herself that same question a thousand times in the last three years. Back when they used to cling to each other in the cramped rental apartment, he had said that he would love her forever. But once the Wolfes came for him, she was told to walk away with some money, as the Wolfes would never accept a daughter-in-law from her background. But Marceline had refused to do so, clinging to Curtis' promise and waiting for the day he would proudly marry her. However, what she got instead was news of his engagement to Jenna and the cold admission that he didn't love her anymore. How could he just stop loving her like that? "Because you don't deserve it." Curtis' words hit Marceline like a sledgehammer, making her head spin. The pain she was experiencing was impossible to describe. It felt like her heart had been stabbed full of holes and was bleeding out with every beat. When he'd loved her, he'd said she was the greatest woman in the world. When he stopped, all she got was a nonchalant remark about how she didn't deserve his love. She, with her lowly status, had tried to defend their love in front of those lofty heirs of wealth, but in their eyes, she was nothing more than a joke who didn't know her place. Even so, Marceline had always believed herself to be a knight, convinced that Curtis had just been forced into the engagement due to circumstances. She had lied to herself for three years, but it was time to wake up now. Marceline pulled the suitcase into the entryway and said, "Then sign the papers. I'll be waiting at the courthouse at noon tomorrow." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. "Curtis, I'm sorry for being a bother to you over the years." Curtis' hand trembled as he clutched the documents. He clenched so hard it was as though his fingers were going to pierce the pages. Finally, he weakly let go and said, "Yeah. I'm finally going to be free." It would be a lie to say that it didn't hurt when Marceline heard those words. She wanted to smile, but she couldn't bring herself to. As such, she merely turned and walked away. Meanwhile, Ken was waiting outside the door. Upon seeing her with her suitcase, he had a troubled expression. "Mrs. Wolfe, Mr. Wolfe didn't mean to leave you out tonight. He…" But Marceline dragged her suitcase into the rain, as if she didn't want to stay for another second. After a few steps, she stopped. Then, she turned to look at Ken, who was still by the door. She asked in a low voice, "That person he keeps at Pinebrook Villa—who is it? Can you tell me?" Ken's entire body stiffened, and he instantly lowered his head, seemingly shocked that she even knew about that place. Upon seeing his reaction, Marceline quietly drew in a breath. "He's been letting someone stay there for three years now, hasn't he?" "I'm sorry, but I don't know." Of course Ken knew. He was the one closest to Curtis. Marceline wiped the rainwater off her face. She was pretty much drenched already. "Never mind. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." "Mrs. Wolfe…" But Marceline had already walked farther into the rain. When she had given Curtis her first time at 18, she had imagined a future with him. She never thought that by 26, everything would fall apart like this. Letting go of him felt like tearing herself in half, but she truly didn't want to keep this up anymore.