"Be gentle..."

Phyllis Mann moaned softly as a large figure pressed down on her.

She felt like a small boat tossed in a vast, turbulent sea.

But when she opened her eyes, she was engulfed by darkness, the other side of the bed empty.

The provocative sounds of Drogo with a woman she had never met echoed from next door.

"Mr. Boyd, it hurts..."

Phyllis's heart ached. Her husband Drogo was a top lawyer, and they had been married for five years.

After a long while, the sounds of intimacy faded, replaced by the woman's voice.

"Mr. Boyd, you went to such great lengths to marry Ms. Mann five years ago. Why are you doing this to her?"

Five years ago, Drogo had proposed to Phyllis in a spectacle that sent the entire city into an uproar.

In front of everyone, he set off fireworks that lit up the sky and gathered every flower in town just to create an unprecedented display for her.

The world had blessed their union.

But after they married, Drogo returned to the villa each night with different women, subjecting Phyllis to the torture of listening to him make love to them.

"I can't accept that she slept with someone else and carried another man's child," Drogo replied, his voice cold and firm.

Phyllis, now fully awake, turned on the light with a shaking hand.

The conversation next door ceased. Minutes later, Drogo pushed the door open and entered. "What is it, my dear wife? You can't sleep—too aroused to be alone?"

Noticing the suggestive red marks across his body, Phyllis smiled bitterly, "Drog, it's been five years. How long are you going to keep torturing me?"

The sight of her pale face made Drogo's heart ache for a moment.

But then the doctor's words from her pre-marriage check-up five years ago echoed in his mind. "Ms. Mann had an abortion that damaged her health. I'm afraid pregnancy will be a long shot for her."

Drogo's gaze turned to ice.

"Torture? How is this torture? Phyllis, what I'm doing is nowhere near what you did. After all, you're the one who got pregnant out of wedlock and had an abortion."

With that, he slammed the door and stormed out.

Phyllis stared in stunned silence at the door, unable to speak.

She didn't understand—if he couldn't accept her past, why had he forced himself to marry her in the first place?

She didn't sleep a wink that night.

The next day, Phyllis went to the hospital for work as usual.

A colleague whispered to her, "Dr. Mann, have you heard?

"The most powerful heir in the city showed up and donated 50 million dollars to the hospital!"

50 million dollars?

Phyllis couldn't help but feel surprised—who could it be?

Just then, a commotion arose in the hallway.

The hospital director entered, leading a group of people in suits.

When Phyllis looked up, her pupils contracted violently.

The man at the front radiated a powerful aura.

It was Sebastian Floyd, her ex-boyfriend, whom she had dated for three years and hadn't seen in five.

Sebastian was the "most powerful heir" the nurses were talking about?

Phyllis was dazed. Just as she was about to call out to him, she noticed a woman standing beside him, dressed in luxury.

It was Sabrina Hanson, her best friend from university. What was Sabrina doing with Sebastian?

As she stood lost in thought, the chatter of nearby nurses reached her ears.

"Wow, Mr. Floyd is so handsome! And he's so young... Hey, who's that beside him?"

"I think that's Sabrina Hanson. They say Mr. Floyd was an illegitimate son. Before he was acknowledged by the Floyd family, he was down and out, and Sabrina stood by him through it all."

"I guess her devotion finally paid off, huh?"

***

Phyllis stood frozen, absorbing their words.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was walking toward her.

Staring at his familiar face, she felt her breath catch.

"Ashton..."

Sebastian's handsome features were marked by detachment and indifference.

"Ms. Mann," he said coolly, "do you regret it, seeing me as I am now?"

Phyllis did her best to maintain her composure, though her hands, hidden at her sides, trembled uncontrollably.

She forced a smile.

"I have a happy family, a stable job, and healthy parents. Why would I regret anything?"

Sebastian let out a cold laugh.

"A happy family? But I heard your husband Drogo spends every night with different women, leaving you alone in an empty bed."

His warm breath brushed against her ear.

Memory of her last night with Sebastian, five years ago, rushed back before she realized it.

That night, they had shared their most passionate moment.

When the atmosphere reached its peak, Sebastian had kissed her forehead again and again, whispering in her ear, "Phyl, I love you.

"Just give me a little more time—that's all I need. I swear I'll build a home for us."

But back then, she couldn't afford to wait any longer. She knew it would be the last time they were together.

In the next moment, she shattered the intimacy between them.

"Get real, Sebastian. I'm the heiress of the Mann family. Why would I ever marry an illegitimate son like you?

"I was just playing with you."

She put her clothes back on and hurled the most hurtful words she could muster.

She never heard from him again.

Now, Sebastian's face overlapped with the one from her memories, leaving her dazed and disoriented, unsure if she was in the past or the present.

After Sebastian left, Phyllis sat numbly in the pediatric examination room.

While writing a prescription, she found her hand shaking so badly she could barely hold the pen. It was then she realized she was no longer fit for the job.

At the end of the day, she gathered her courage and stepped into the director's office to resign.

The director was stunned. "What? Dr. Mann, you're the youngest head of pediatrics we've ever had. Your future is boundless—why would you want to leave?"

A pang of bitterness welled up inside her. She pulled out her phone and showed him her diagnosis report. "I'm sorry for only telling you now. I'm sick, and I'm no longer fit to be a doctor."

The director's eyes, falling on the report, were filled with disbelief. "How ... could this be? You're so young."

She looked down, hiding the frustration in her eyes. "I guess it runs in the family."

"What are your plans now?" the director asked with a sigh.

"I'll take my father back to our hometown and live a quiet life."

The director signed the resignation form and handed it back to her. "Phyllis, we'll always hold a position for you. If you recover, come back."

"Thank you." Phyllis nodded. "I'll complete the resignation process as soon as possible."

But deep down, she knew—she would never recover, let alone return.

As she walked out of the hospital entrance, she saw Sabrina, who had apparently been waiting for her for some time.

Now, Sabrina was elegantly dressed and wore delicate makeup—a far cry from the quiet, unassuming girl who had once followed Phyllis around in college.

Phyllis wanted to ask Sabrina how she had ended up with Sebastian.

But before she could speak, Sabrina said, "Phyllis, it's been a while.

"Ashton told me you haven't been doing well all these years.

"But since we're getting married soon, I hope you'll keep your distance from him from now on."

Ashton...

The intimate way Sabrina referred to Sebastian sent a slight tremor through Phyllis's heart.

"Why are you two together?" she asked.

Sabrina's gaze falling on Phyllis was full of contempt.

"It's all thanks to you. You looked down on him when he had nothing and left him. Otherwise, I would never have had the chance to get close to him."

She paused, then added coldly, "There's something you don't know. After you left, his mother passed away. I was the one who stayed by his side, taking care of him day and night. Of course, he'd be with me."

Sabrina's words cut deeper than any blade.

Phyllis was left speechless.

Before turning to leave, Sabrina said, "Don't see Ashton again.

"Since you walked away, you should stay gone."

On her way home, Phyllis couldn't stop turning over Sabrina's final words in her mind.

"Since you've left, you should leave for good."

It was true—now that she had decided to leave, she ought to move forward without looking back.

When she arrived home, the lights were off. Drogo wasn't there.

She cooked herself some pasta. As the warm food slid down her throat and settled in her stomach, she finally felt a sense of being truly alive.

After washing the plate, thinking of her fading memory, she took out her phone and logged into her Twitter account to record what had happened during the day.

"December 5th, 2024, Overcast. It's been five years—1,868 days since Sebastian and I parted. I saw him today, but he's with someone else now... He's with Sabrina, my former good friend..."

After saving the entry, she turned off her phone.

That night, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

Drifting in and out of sleep, she dreamed of marrying Sebastian and giving birth to a lovely little girl.

Their family of three was so happy...

Tears slid silently from the corners of her eyes. In her half-sleep, she felt someone gently touch her cheek. She slowly opened her eyes to see Drogo's dark, grim face.

"Drogo? What are you doing in my room?"

Drogo traced the corner of her lips with his slender finger. "I'm your husband. Why can't I be in your room? How did it feel, Phyllis, seeing your ex after all these years?"

As he said this, his hand slid beneath her skirt.

"You're such a slut, Phyllis. Just one meeting with him, and you're already this wet?"

With that, he tore off her clothes and pressed down over her.

Phyllis struggled fiercely.

"Drogo, you find me disgusting, don't you? What are you doing?"

Drogo clutched her wrist.

"Stop dodging! You were enjoying yourself in that dream, weren't you?"

His harsh words pierced her heart like a blade.

"Relax. I won't touch you. I'm just curious how cheap you could be."

He didn't even take off his clothes, yet she felt as though he could shatter her at any moment.

It felt like an eternity before he finally left.

Soon after, he called eighteen curvaceous young models into the next room.

Their laughter and playful noises drifted through the wall, filling Phyllis's eyes with emptiness.

She and Drogo had been childhood sweethearts.

When they were three, their families arranged their marriage.

Growing up, they were always by each other's side. Everyone at school—and even among the elite of Washington, D.C.—saw them as meant to be.

But everything changed on her eighteenth birthday.

That night, Drogo invited everyone from their school except her to the most upscale hotel in the city.

He bought every rose in town and, in front of everyone, declared to a girl named Violet Dixon behind Phyllis's back, "Lettie, I love you. Though we can't be together in this lifetime, I swear I'll marry you in the next."

Phyllis watched it all in silence.

When it was over, she broke up with Drogo and called off their engagement unilaterally.

After the breakup, it took her a year to heal.

Then she met Sebastian, who was still an illegitimate son back then.

Sebastian was nothing like the pampered, arrogant, and aloof Drogo. He always prioritized her feelings and never upset her.

But she lost Sebastian, the one who had treated her best in this world...

As memories from five years ago resurfaced, Phyllis's hands began trembling uncontrollably again.

She knew it was time to leave Washington, D.C.

Drogo didn't love her. Sebastian, who had once adored her, now saw her as nothing.

Her mother was gone. Her father, now suffering from Alzheimer's, could hardly remember her.

As for her, she had been diagnosed with Parkinson's.

And for some reason, her memories were fading, just like her father's...

She wanted to do something meaningful in the limited time she had left.

Early the next morning.

Phyllis went to a law firm and had a lawyer draft a divorce agreement.

She stated her demands simply.

The lawyer looked at her in disbelief. "Given your husband's financial status, if you divorce him, you could receive at least 8 billion dollars. Are you sure you want to leave with nothing?"

Phyllis nodded, her gaze firm. "Yes."

The Mann family had already collapsed by the time she married Drogo.

She had come to him with nothing—and she would leave the same way, taking nothing that wasn't hers.

As she stepped out of the law firm, Carmen Walker, who cared for her father at the nursing home, called.

"Phyllis, Clive is missing!"

Phyllis's mind went blank.

Clive Mann, her father, had developed Alzheimer's after her mother's death and the company's bankruptcy.

He had never left the nursing home. How could he have gone missing today?

She hung up and rushed to the nursing home.

But just then, Sebastian called. "Come get Clive."

She was stunned.

What was Clive doing with Sebastian?

Still, she replied quickly, "I'm on my way."

She rushed to the address Sebastian had sent her.

There, she found Clive sitting on the floor, blocked by a group of bodyguards, while Sebastian sat on the sofa, his expression dark and sullen.

She hurried to help Clive up. "Dad? What are you doing here?"

At the sight of her, Clive beamed. "Phyl, tell Ashton you want to marry him. Ask him to help the Mann Group. Your grandfather built it—it can't collapse in our hands."

A flicker of mockery passed through Sebastian's cold, deep-set eyes.

"Like father, like daughter. Phyllis, you're every bit the snob Clive is.

"I'm curious, though. You're a married woman. How exactly do you plan to marry me?"

Sebastian's harsh words pierced Phyllis's heart like a blade.

Five years ago, she had been ready to marry him.

But then her parents had a car accident. Her mother, Juliet Mann, died. Clive survived but was severely injured. When he woke, he remembered nothing.

The doctors called it post-traumatic stress, compounded by Alzheimer's.

Almost overnight, the Mann Group's stock plummeted, and they were buried in debt.

Phyllis begged all their business partners for help, but no one stepped forward.

Only Drogo offered to clear their debt and cover Clive's medical expenses.

But he had one condition—she must marry him.

He told her plainly, "If you refuse, I'll make sure Sebastian disappears for good."

Back then, Phyllis had just learned she was twenty-one days pregnant.

Stroking her still-flat stomach, she asked Drogo, "I'm pregnant. Are you still willing to marry me?"

His reply was cold. "I want a wife, not children."

For the sake of her family—for Clive—she had no choice. She ended the pregnancy and married Drogo.

Remembering the child she'd lost, Phyllis felt a deep, physical ache.

Suppressing the pain, she met Sebastian's gaze. He was now no different from a stranger.

She didn't try to explain. "You think too much," she said calmly. "I'm happy now—I have a husband who adores me. Marrying you has never crossed my mind."

With that, she helped Clive to his feet and walked away without looking back.

At the bus stop, Clive suddenly turned to her.

"Are you here alone?"

Phyllis's breath caught. Once again, he had forgotten her. Her hands trembled slightly as she answered, "No. I'm with my family."

"Really? But it's just the two of us here." Clive glanced around, confused.

Swallowing her sadness, she took a slow breath. "My family is ... special. He and I only have each other. But he's sick now..."

"Hey," Clive said gently, patting her shoulder.

"Everything will be fine."

She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yes. Everything will be fine."

After bringing Clive back to the nursing home, Phyllis returned home.

She pulled out her phone and began another diary entry on Twitter.

"December 6th, 2024, Overcast. Dad left the nursing home today and went to find Sebastian. He still wants me to marry him. But from the day I walked away from Sebastian, any future between us became impossible."

Just as she was about to close the app, the top trending topic caught her eye.

"The Floyd Group CEO spends a fortune to buy a coastal city in Cannes for his fiancée"

The comments were flooded with excitement.

Netizen A: "They're truly meant to be! She stood by him when he had nothing, and now he's giving her the world. This is couple goals. Wishing them a lifetime of happiness!"

Netizen B: "A whole coastal city? Is this real life or a romance novel?"

Netizen C: "Sharing this with my husband immediately!"

Phyllis stared at the screen, lost in memory.

Five years ago, when she and Sebastian were together, she'd told him how much she loved the ocean.

He'd promised her, "Phyl, one day I'll buy you a coastal city in Cannes and build a sea-themed park there.

"You'll be able to see the ocean whenever you feel like it."

Now, he had kept that promise—but for someone else.

Setting her phone down, Phyllis lay in bed, though sleep refused to come.

Eventually, she got up, took out the divorce agreement, and sat on the living room sofa, waiting for Drogo.

At 9:59 p.m., the door opened.

Drogo walked in, his suit jacket slung over one arm, a young, pure-looking woman clinging to the other.

At their wedding, he had promised Phyllis he would return home before ten every night.

For five years, he'd kept that timing perfectly—always stepping through the door just before the clock struck ten.

And always with a woman who looked strikingly like Violet.

Phyllis never understood. If he loved Violet so much, why hadn't he married Violet?

Why choose her instead?

Taking a deep breath, she held out the document.

"Sign this."

Drogo didn't even glance at it, his voice contemptuous. "What could you possibly have that I'd need to sign?"

"This is—"

Before she could say "the divorce agreement", he snatched it from her hand.

Without hesitation, he signed his name.

Phyllis watched Drogo sign the divorce papers without so much as glancing at the contents.

She couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you going to read what you just signed?"

"What could you possibly have me sign?"

Drogo shoved the document back across the table, his attention already elsewhere.

He then guided the woman in his arms toward the guest bedroom.

Watching their retreating figures, Phyllis had mixed feelings.

All that was left now was to complete her handover at the hospital. Then, they would both be free.

Back in her room, she soon fell asleep.

She had a dream.

In the dream, she took Clive back to their hometown, where they lived a simple, peaceful life together.

***

The next morning, after waking up, Phyllis mechanically reached for her phone, checking Twitter to see what had happened recently.

Then she realized she had resigned. She had to return to the hospital to complete her handover.

At the hospital.

She changed into her white coat and settled into her office, ready to see patients.

Just then, the door opened, and someone stepped in.

"Dr. Mann."

At the sound of that familiar voice, Phyllis instinctively looked up and saw Sebastian, his expression as cold as ever.

She froze for a moment. "Ashton...

"When did you come back to Washington, D.C.?"

The words slipped out before she recalled what she'd written in her tweets.

Of course—Sebastian had returned some time ago. He was now the CEO of the Floyd Group.

"Ms. Mann, when did your memory become so poor?"

Sebastian shut the door behind him as he spoke.

Phyllis snapped back to reality. "What are you doing in my office?" She averted her gaze.

"Naturally, I'm here for a consultation."

With that, he took a seat across from her.

She lowered her eyes slightly. "Mr. Floyd, I'm a pediatrician. If you're unwell, I suggest you go to the front desk and have them direct you to the appropriate department."

But Sebastian caught her hand and pressed it against his chest.

"You used to take care of me when I was sick. Have you forgotten?"

He undid the top button of his shirt and guided her hand inside.

The warmth of his skin and the rhythm of his heartbeat brought back memories of their time together.

When Sebastian had a fever, she would take his temperature and give him medicine.

He never cooperated unless her hand was resting over his heart.

A sudden, sharp ache pierced Phyllis's chest.

Before she could hold back, she began to explain, "Ashton... About what happened five years ago—I can explain. My mother died in a car accident, my father fell ill, and our family business went bankrupt. I had no choice but to marry Drogo."

Sebastian let out a low chuckle and looked at her with a meaningful gaze.

"Oh, really? A car accident? Bankruptcy? But last I heard, the Mann Group was doing just fine. At least come up with a better excuse."

Phyllis's heart ached so intensely she couldn't speak.

The truth was, the Mann Group had long been taken over by Drogo.

Meanwhile, Sebastian slowly guided her hand downward.

The touch beneath her fingertips made her tremble, memories of those days and nights they had shared rushing back.

Seeing she didn't resist, Sebastian grew bolder.

But then his eyes fell on the purplish marks on her neck. Instantly, his expression darkened, and he shoved her hand away.

"You're a married woman, yet you have no trouble flirting with me.

"Does Drogo know how frivolous you are?"

Phyllis's face turned deathly pale, all words trapped in her throat.

Sebastian placed an invitation on the desk.

Before leaving, he said, "Bree and I are getting married next month. You're her only friend from college. Don't forget to attend our wedding."

Phyllis picked up the invitation and opened it.

Two names printed in gold foil caught her eye—Sebastian Floyd and Sabrina Hanson.

For a fleeting moment, she almost saw her own name instead of Sabrina's.

She stared at those two names for a long, long time...

After seeing her last patient, Phyllis went to the nursing home to visit Clive.

In the nursing home.

Dressed in the dark blue sweater Juliet had knitted for him ten years ago, Clive sat in the garden, staring blankly at the falling leaves.

Phyllis walked over and gently leaned against his shoulder.

"Dad, after I finish handing over my work at the hospital, we can go back to our hometown."

Clive nodded. "OK. Let's go back.

"Julie's there waiting for me."

Tears streamed down Phyllis's cheeks uncontrollably at the mention of her mother.

He tapped her forehead softly. "Phyl, don't be such a little girl. You're a grown-up now. If Julie knew, she'd blame me again for being too hard on you."

A wave of bitterness washed over Phyllis.

She knew Clive's memory was confused again.

After spending a long while with him, she returned home alone.

Just then, she received a message from the hospital, urging her to come in for treatment.

"Ms. Mann, as you mentioned last time, your memory has been fading. Your test results are out. You're suffering from severe depression, which can cause memory deterioration.

"Please find time to come to the hospital for treatment as soon as possible."

Reading the message, she felt dazed.

Severe depression—so, that was why her memory had been failing.

She was about to turn off her phone without replying when another notification chimed—this time from Instagram.

Sabrina had posted a photo and specifically tagged her. It was a picture of a pink diamond ring, the diamond large, round, and radiating a soft, pink glow.

The caption read, "Ashton invited August, the famous Italian designer, to design this diamond ring.

"It's called 'Forever', symbolizing everlasting true love."

Staring at the photo, Phyllis clutched her phone so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Once, Sebastian had given her a ring, too.

It was a cheap one. Back then, he had told her, "Phyl, I'm sorry. This is all I can afford right now. But I promise—one day, I'll buy you the most expensive ring in the world."

She hadn't been upset at all.

"Ashton, I love anything that comes from you."

In the past, she had truly believed that marrying Sebastian meant having the whole world.

But that world was gone now.

Maybe it was for the best—Sebastian was with someone he loved, and she was about to leave.

As she put away her phone, the bus came to a stop. She rubbed her sore eyes and stepped off.

Back at home.

Phyllis routinely took a pill from her bedside drawer and swallowed it.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Drogo.

"For your information, I won't be back tonight."

In their five years of marriage, this was the first time he would stay out all night.

Phyllis glanced at the time—it was 9:59 p.m. Even his call was perfectly timed, just before their agreed 10 p.m. curfew.

Her throat tightened. "OK," she replied softly.

As she hung up, the wedding photo hanging in the master bedroom fell to the floor.

At the same moment, the ornate wall clock struck ten.

She stood up. Her gaze fell on the shattered frame, and her eyes reddened in silence.

Now that their marriage had reached its end, she supposed there was no point in keeping the photo.

With that thought, she cut the picture into pieces and tossed them, along with the broken glass, into the trash.

Then she lay in bed and browsed her phone. It was only then that she noticed Violet's Instagram—an account she had secretly searched five years ago, one that had never been updated—now had a new post.

"Years later, we hug again."

In the photo, Violet was embracing a man, their hands clasped together.

It was Drogo.

No wonder he wasn't coming home tonight. Violet, his unforgettable love who had vanished for five years, was back.

The last thread holding Phyllis together finally snapped.

Both Sebastian and Drogo were now with the ones they loved.

She could leave without any worries now...

Phyllis opened Twitter, intending to record the day's events, only to find she had already written an entry.

"December 7th, 2024, Overcast.

"The hospital texted me today, telling me I have severe depression, and my memory will keep getting worse. They urged me to get treatment ASAP.

"Sebastian is with Sabrina now, and Violet is back. Now, both Sebastian and Drogo are with the ones that matter to them, and Dad is all I have. But I don't even know how long I can remember him..."

She had posted this just minutes ago—yet she had already forgotten.

That night, she didn't sleep a wink.

The next morning, she pulled herself together and went to the hospital to work. By the end of the day, she returned home.

Entering the door, she saw Drogo sitting on the sofa, apparently waiting for her.

At the sight of her, Drogo frowned. "Where's the wedding photo that was on the master bedroom wall?"

Phyllis glanced toward the bedroom and hesitated for a moment. Then it vaguely occurred to her—she had thrown it away.

"The photo frame broke, so I put it away. I was planning to hang it again once I get a new frame."

Drogo secretly breathed a sigh of relief, though he couldn't quite name the reason.

"I'll be on a business trip for a week," he said. "Don't wait up."

Phyllis felt a mix of complicated emotions.

In their five years of marriage, no matter how busy Drogo had been, he had never taken a business trip.

Violet had returned just yesterday—not only had he forgotten the promise he once made, but now he had even begun to lie to her.

Still, she nodded without exposing him.

"OK."

Only those who were loved had the right to act willful—and clearly, she was not loved.

For the next week, Violet updated her Instagram every night at exactly 10:00 p.m., documenting her trip with Drogo.

They watched the sunrise at Mount Bromo, saw the aurora in Iceland, and surfed in Tahiti...

They did everything Phyllis had once dreamed of doing with Drogo before she turned eighteen.

Among those posts was a video.

In the clip, Drogo held Violet's hand as they stood on Arlington Memorial Bridge in Washington, D.C.

"Lettie, when I love someone, I'll love her for a long, long time..."

A long, long time...

Phyllis's eyes welled up, and the memory of that night—her eighteenth birthday party—came rushing back.

She had waited alone at the hotel entrance all night, only to see Drogo walk out hand in hand with Violet...

She exited Instagram and saw a message from Sabrina.

"Phyllis, I told Ashton to invite you to our wedding. Check out the wedding dress he prepared for me and our wedding home. I love them so much."

Attached were several photos of the wedding preparations.

Phyllis didn't reply.

On December 15th, the day before Phyllis planned to leave.

She went to the hospital one last time to complete her handover and pre-processed Clive's discharge papers, ready to pick him up the next day and return to their hometown.

Snow began to fall around her as she walked home alone.

She stopped in her tracks, gazing up at the snowflakes drifting down from the sky in a daze.

She stood there for what felt like ages.

Just then, a voice rang out behind her. "What are you doing here?"

A Rolls-Royce Cullinan pulled up beside her. The window rolled down, revealing Drogo's chiseled face.

Looking at him, Phyllis asked back in confusion, "What are you doing here?"

Drogo frowned. For some reason, he felt that since the beginning of this year, Phyllis had often seemed in a trance.

He had told her he was on a business trip and would return today.

Why was she asking him this?

"I'm back from the business trip," he said impatiently. "Let's go home."

Only then did Phyllis realize she had forgotten the reason for Drogo's business trip.

But she didn't ask.

She was leaving tomorrow—none of it mattered anymore.

They went home together.

After taking off his coat, Drogo said, "We're attending the charity dinner tonight together."

Phyllis remembered—tomorrow, she would leave Washington, D.C.

"I don't want to," she said. "Take someone else. You have more girlfriends than you can count anyway, right?"

Drogo frowned slightly. "You agreed. Remember? I've already told my friends you'd come."

Phyllis was stunned.

When had she ever agreed?

Mindful of her failing memory, Phyllis didn't argue further.

She was leaving tomorrow. Since she had once agreed to attend the charity dinner with Drogo, she would keep her word.

Drogo waited as she changed into her gown. On the way to the venue, he couldn't help but ask, "What's going on with you lately? You seem to forget things easily."

At his critical tone, Phyllis lowered her head slightly. "I've just been a bit tired, probably."

Drogo said nothing more.

Soon, they arrived at the Millennium Charity Auction.

Linking arms with Drogo, Phyllis headed to the main hall.

The auction hall, spanning at least a thousand square meters, was brightly lit and filled with celebrities, socialites, tycoons, and journalists.

At first glance, Phyllis spotted Sebastian and Sabrina.

Under the spotlight, they stood side by side, looking perfectly matched.

Drogo followed Phyllis's gaze. "I thought you were the love of Sebastian's life. Seems I was wrong."

Suddenly, she turned to him. "What about you? How much do you love me?"

Meeting her sorrowful eyes, he found himself unable to speak.

After a long pause, he finally said, "I married you, even though you were damaged goods. What more do you want?"

Damaged goods...

This time, it was Phyllis who was left speechless.

They entered the venue together.

When her eyes met Sebastian's, she clearly saw the disgust in his gaze.

At the auction.

Phyllis's seat wasn't far from Sebastian's, and she could see his affectionate interactions with Sabrina the whole time.

Then the host stepped onto the stage.

Phyllis looked up, surprised to see Violet.

Instinctively, she glanced at Drogo—only to find his gaze fixed intently on Violet.

While presenting the auction items, Violet's eyes drifted in their direction.

Suddenly, all the lights in the venue exploded.

Alarms blared at once.

Before Phyllis could react, Drogo rushed onto the stage and pulled Violet firmly into his arms.

A voice came over the loudspeaker. "This is an emergency. Please evacuate in an orderly manner through the emergency exits..."

Phyllis was swept along by the crowd toward the exit.

As she moved, she saw Sebastian shielding Sabrina, and Drogo protecting Violet, all moving forward with the flow of people...

She remained dazed for a long moment. Then, someone shoved her hard from behind, and she fell to the floor.

***

Phyllis didn't even know how she made it home alone.

Her body was covered in bruises, her mind filled with images of the two men she had loved most—and who had once loved her—walking away with other women in their arms.

She tended to her wounds alone. Her hands were studded with glass shards, yet she felt no pain.

After bandaging herself, she lay in bed, once again unable to sleep.

At 2 a.m., Drogo hurried back.

Seeing Phyllis still awake, he asked with concern, "There was a theft at the venue tonight. Are you all right?"

Instead of answering, Phyllis asked, "Why didn't you tell me Violet was back?"

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes. "I have nothing to do with her anymore. Why would I specially mention it to you? Did you think I was you—sneaking around behind my partner's back to rekindle an old flame?"

He lied so naturally. Staring at him, she gave a quiet smile. "Is that so?"

For some reason, seeing her expression made Drogo uneasy.

Just as he was about to speak, his phone chimed.

Phyllis couldn't hear what the caller said, but she saw his expression change drastically, his usual composure gone.

Soon, he hung up and looked at her. "Something urgent came up at work. I have to go back to the office now. We'll talk tomorrow."

With that, he rushed out.

After the door closed, Phyllis didn't go to sleep.

Instead, she bought two train tickets for the 8 a.m. trip to Gatlinburg, her hometown—via Knoxville.

Her hometown, Gatlinburg, is 1,800 kilometers away from Washington, D.C. There is no direct transportation, so Phyllis has to take a high-speed train to Knoxville first, then transfer to a coach to get home.

She booked her tickets and called her aunt in Gatlinburg, as well as a lawyer she was familiar with.

"My father and I will be home the day after tomorrow. Please come pick us up."

"Also, don't forget to help me draft the will."

After the person on the other end agreed, Phyllis hung up the phone.

Afraid she might forget something, she wrote a note and attached photos of herself and her father to the inside of her clothes.

On the back of the photos, she wrote her aunt's and the lawyer's phone numbers, so that if she forgot anything, she could contact them in time.

After finishing all this, she began to pack her luggage.

When she finished packing, she realized that after five years of marriage to Drogo, she had so few belongings that she couldn't even fill a single suitcase.

She sat beside the suitcase for a long time.

It was a little after four in the morning.

Phyllis went to the study to print out a screenshot of Violet's Instagram post and placed it on Drogo's desk along with the divorce agreement.

At five o'clock in the morning.

She dragged her suitcase, took one last look at the home she had lived in for five years, and under the gentle moonlight, got into the car without looking back.

On the way to the nursing home by taxi, she watched the scenery recede and suddenly couldn't help but ask the driver, "Could you take me to Regal Palace Villas first?"

Regal Palace Villas was the wedding house Sebastian had prepared for Sabrina.

The driver nodded, "Sure, no problem."

An hour later, the car arrived at Regal Palace Villas.

Phyllis did not get out of the car. Through the window, she saw the villa brightly lit inside, with rose petals covering the ground outside.

At that moment, the villa's gate opened from within, and Sebastian and Sabrina walked out one after the other.

Sabrina held Sebastian's hand as they strolled together outside the courtyard.

Watching them, Phyllis's vision suddenly blurred.

At this moment, the driver's voice came from beside her: "Miss, a jerk isn't worth your sadness."

Phyllis murmured, "He's not a jerk. He's a good man. I'm the one who betrayed him."

Hearing this, the driver looked at Phyllis in disbelief and said nothing more.

Phyllis gazed at the scene of Sebastian and Sabrina standing side by side. Afraid she might forget it in the future, she took out her phone and snapped a photo of their backs.

With tearful eyes, she dazedly mistook the person beside Sebastian for herself.

"Let's go!"

The car continued toward the nursing home. Phyllis kept glancing down at the photo, unable to resist stroking Sebastian's image on it.

She didn't dare look any longer and began composing a text message to Sebastian on her phone.

"I'm sorry, I can't attend your wedding. After all, I'm already married, and I can't let my husband think I still have someone else in my heart."

After sending the message, she deleted Sebastian, Drogo, Sabrina, and Violet from her contacts.

Arriving at the nursing home, she picked up her father, and together they went to the train station.

Before boarding, Phyllis took out her phone and opened her private Twitter account to record her last day in Washington, D.C.

"December 16, 2024. Clear skies."

"Today my father and I are leaving Washington, D.C."

"I have to say goodbye to two men who mean a lot to me: one is my once deeply loved husband, Drogo, and the other is the man I love now, Sebastian."

"It seems I've always been missing out, always falling in love with the wrong person at the wrong time."

"Drogo and I grew up together as childhood sweethearts. Everyone outside says he loves me more than life itself, but I know he never truly loved me. The one he has always loved is his white moonlight, Violet."

"Drogo doesn't know that on my eighteenth birthday, I followed him to a hotel and watched as he confessed to Violet in front of all our classmates and teachers."

"And I waited for him outside the hotel all night, alone."

"I, Phyllis, have never envied anyone in my life. Violet was the first. I did something I despise—I secretly added Violet on WhatsApp, and, posing as an alumna, watched her Instagram for a whole year."

"Later, I met my ex, Sebastian. With his companionship, I gradually forgot that Drogo didn't love me."

"Sebastian. He was the second man I loved deeply, and the second I wanted to spend my life with. I truly loved him. But life played a cruel joke on me. The year I loved him most, my family went bankrupt, and I was forced to abort our child and marry Drogo."

"Drogo and I have been married for five years, one thousand eight hundred and seventy-nine days, and in that time, he brought home more than a thousand women who resembled Violet..."

"Now that Violet has returned, it's time for me to give Drogo back to her."

***

Editing and deleting, Phyllis didn't even know what she had written. She just wanted to record everything while she could still remember.

"And now, my ex Sebastian is getting married too. The two people I once loved have both found their life partners. It's time for me to leave as well."

"My father and I are going to a beautiful place, and we'll never see them again."

After writing all this, Phyllis hit publish, but what she didn't realize was that she forgot to set it to private, and posted it publicly under the name 'Mrs. Boyd' on Twitter.

The moment the message was sent, people all over the world saw what she had posted.

At that moment, Phyllis put down her phone. As the station broadcast announced boarding, she took one last look at Washington, D.C., and spoke to her father.

"Dad, let's go."

"Alright."

Under the winter sun, a slender figure led a stooped old man, step by step, onto the train to Knoxville, disappearing from Washington, D.C. forever...