Chapter 1

At 20 years old, Amelia Caldwell married Matthew Sterling, a man with autism. For five years of their marriage, he was like a block of ice that refused to melt. He had set three unbreakable rules for her—no talking to him, no touching him, and absolutely no intimacy with him. Then an earthquake struck. Instinctively, she lunged at Matthew, wanting to protect him, only to watch him carefully shield another woman and flee from the rubble with her, without even glancing back. Amelia woke up in the hospital covered in wounds, and the first thing she did was stumble out of bed to look for him. However, what she heard was the woman's soft, gentle coaxing. "Matt, it's just a minor scrape. I really am fine. Your wife seems badly injured, though… Don't you want to go check on her?" After a brief silence, Matthew's icy voice pierced through the closed door. "I don't like her, so it's none of my concern whether she lives or dies." At that moment, Amelia's heart shattered. So when Leonard Stirling, Matthew's grandfather, rushed to the hospital, she looked at him and requested, "Leonard, please let me divorce Matthew." Leonard froze, his wrinkled face etched with shock. "Amelia, why bring this up so suddenly? Did… Did that brat mistreat you again?" Amelia lowered her eyes and said nothing. Mistreat her? Did his constant coldness toward her over the years count as mistreating her? She had grown up an orphan, raised in an orphanage. When she was eight years old, Leonard brought her back to the Sterling family. He told her that Matthew was autistic and didn't like talking or interacting with others. Leonard was getting on in years, and he was afraid that after he passed, no one would watch over his grandson. So, he brought her back, gave her a home, and offered her something she could depend on in the future—by making her Matthew's bride. From as early as Amelia could remember, she knew she was destined to marry Matthew. Even though he never looked at her, never spoke to her, and ignored every kindness she offered, she followed him around without complaint. She learned to take care of him and manage his daily life. When he had episodes—throwing things or hurting himself—she would rush in to hold him tight, despite the potential risk. When he refused to eat, she'd warm his food again and again, coaxing him gently. When he refused to interact with others, she'd guide him little by little. Year after year, she poured all her energy and youth into him. She watched as he slowly got better. Even though he was still aloof, he could at least lead a normal life and had even taken over the family business. She thought that was how their days would go on forever. Even if he remained an unyielding block of ice, she'd accepted it. That was, until that business banquet. Sierra Jensen appeared in a pure white gown, looking like an ethereal being who had accidentally wandered into the human world. For the first time, Matthew watched someone so intently that he couldn't look away. He even spoke his first complete sentence to Amelia—one that was a clear directive as well. "Take off your shawl and give it to her. She's cold." In that moment, Amelia's heart stung like it had been pricked by a needle. She silently removed her shawl and watched him carefully wrap it around Sierra, his eyes holding a tenderness she'd never seen before. From that moment on, his world seemed to open up for Sierra—and Sierra alone. He smiled at her and listened patiently to her. He scoured the globe for rare treasures just because she said she liked them. He abandoned important meetings when she called, and his eyes would fill with a rare panic whenever she frowned. These were all things Amelia had longed for through her entire youth, yet she never received. And now, in that earthquake, Matthew had shielded Sierra without hesitation, leaving Amelia in danger. Even afterward, when she was injured, he'd said the words, "It's none of my concern whether she lives or dies." Amelia finally understood—some things couldn't be earned through sheer effort, like love or Matthew's heart. Over a decade of care and companionship meant less to him than Sierra's three months. Amelia took a deep breath, blinking back the sting in her eyes. "Leonard, you probably already heard what happened today. When the earthquake hit, he protected Ms. Jensen and left me there. Just now, outside his door, I heard him say it himself. He doesn't like me, and it's none of his concern whether I live or die. "Things don't end well when they're forced. Since Matthew doesn't like me, and he even hates me, it's better that we divorce. That would be best for everyone." Leonard's brows furrowed deeply as he let out a heavy sigh. "But Amelia, you've been the one taking care of Matt all these years. If someone else suddenly steps in, I'm afraid he—" "Leonard," Amelia interrupted softly, her tone tired and tinged with a trace of irony. "You've seen it too. He's been doing much better lately after spending time with Ms. Jensen. He smiles, he cares for others, and he expresses his emotions. "Maybe… leaving me is what's best for him. He seems able to open himself up more to Ms. Jensen." Leonard froze. He thought of Matthew's recent changes, and they had indeed started after Sierra's appearance. He fell silent for a long while, then sighed deeply. Looking as if he'd suddenly aged in those few seconds, he said, "Very well. Since you're set on leaving, I… respect your decision." … After two days of recuperating in the hospital, Amelia returned to the house she'd maintained and cared for over the past five years. She walked straight into the bedroom, opened the drawer by the bed, reached deep inside, and pulled out a document—a divorce agreement. Matthew's signature was already neatly scrawled in the lower right corner. Seeing those familiar yet cold-looking strokes, she couldn't help the ache that twisted in her chest. Five years of marriage, and he loathed her utterly. Whenever anything didn't go his way, or if she showed too much concern for him and irritated him, he'd coldly throw a signed divorce agreement at her and tell her to get lost. At first, every time she saw the agreement, she'd hide out in her room and cry for days. Then, she'd tear it to shreds in front of him. She would just tell herself to hold on a little longer, thinking he'd get better. Eventually, as it happened again and again, her heart grew numb, and she stopped tearing them up. The last time he threw one at her, she took it calmly and quietly stored it away. She never thought it would actually come in handy. She picked up a pen and carefully and solemnly signed her name—Amelia Caldwell—in the blank space next to his.