Nicole Quinn and Cruz Yarbrough had filed for divorce 99 times.

Each time, Cruz would quietly wait for her to cave in during the waiting period, knowing she'd come crawling back. She would coax him, and only then would he agree to cancel the paperwork.

At the 100th filing, as Nicole stood up to leave, a staff member behind the desk asked curiously, "So, when are you coming back to cancel it this time?"

Nicole glanced at Cruz's cold figure walking away and told herself inwardly.

Would not cancel this time.

When the 30-day waiting period ended, it would finally be official.

The wind outside the courthouse was biting. Nicole stepped out and watched Cruz slip into his sleek black Maybach without even glancing back at her.

She walked slowly along the sidewalk. It felt like something inside her had been ripped open, and the cold air just poured in.

Suddenly, screeching tires rang out behind her.

Before she could react, she was shoved to the ground. Her knees throbbed, and her palms burned.

Looking up through messy hair, she saw Cruz's friends scrambling out of the car.

"Crap! We just hit Mrs. Yarbrough!"

"Stop calling her that," someone muttered. "They're getting divorced. Cruz hasn't agreed to cancel it yet."

Nicole tried to stand, her legs trembling. Through her messy bangs, she saw the rear window of the Maybach rolled halfway down. Cruz's cold profile was just barely visible in the shadows.

One of the guys asked, "Should we take her to the hospital first, or just head to the party?"

Time froze for a moment. Nicole stared at that car window, her heart aching.

"To the party." Cruz's cold voice came through the car window.

Those simple words cut deeper than a knife.

The car sped off, the exhaust fumes hitting her face.

Gritting her teeth, Nicole pulled herself up and limped all the way home.

Every step made her knees scream, but that was nothing compared to the way her heart felt—shredded and raw.

As soon as she got home, she started packing.

She pulled out everything that reminded her of their years together.

The jewelry he casually threw to her, the lighter he used that she secretly kept, the jar of 999 paper stars she folded for him...

One by one, she tossed them all in the trash. Then, she pulled out a paper bag from the deepest part of the drawer.

Her hands shook as she opened it again, even though she'd seen what was inside.

They were Cruz's love letters.

"You brought breakfast again today. But you didn't know I got up at five just to watch you quietly set it by my window.

"Your handwriting in those letters is terrible, but I kept them. I'll tease you about them on our 50th anniversary.

"That red dress looked good, but I wish no one else could see you in it.

"You've been chasing me for three years. I almost gave in. But I wanted to hold out a bit longer and enjoy being pursued."

Every line felt like a punch to the heart.

If she hadn't randomly found those love letters a few days earlier, she never would've believed that Cruz, who'd always acted cold and distant, actually liked her.

The first time Nicole saw Cruz was during their university's opening ceremony.

He was speaking onstage as the student rep, looking sharp and untouchable.

With just a glance, she fell in love.

Many people pursued Cruz, but Nicole was the most stubborn one.

She kept bringing him breakfast, even though he never touched it. She memorized all his classes just to run into him. When he got hurt playing basketball, she climbed over the wall to get him medicine and ended up breaking her wrist for it.

She spent four years and 1,460 days chasing after him until they finally got together.

Even then, he was still distant, never showing much warmth. She even proposed to him first, and she didn't mind.

But after three years of marriage, Cruz had already asked for a divorce 99 times.

The first time was over salty food. He said she couldn't even handle something that simple.

The second was because he didn't like her dress.

***

The 98th time they almost split was over a rule he made. She could only text him ten times a day, and she accidentally sent one extra "good night."

Every time, she ended up begging him not to go through with the divorce.

On the 99th try, she stayed on her knees in his study the entire night. Only then did he reluctantly agree to cancel it.

That same night, she stumbled across a paper bag inside his locked safe.

Inside were handwritten letters Cruz had penned for her, all the way back from when she first started chasing after him.

It turned out that he'd had feelings for her all along.

It turned out that all those divorce threats were just ways to make her cry, to keep her begging him not to leave.

He craved her love, but treated her devotion like a toy to pass the time.

The next day, Cruz filed for divorce for the 100th time.

This time, it was over a cookie. She'd eaten one in his car and left behind a few crumbs.

Nicole looked at the guy she'd been in love with for seven years and suddenly felt like she didn't even know him anymore.

This time, she was done playing along with him.

She wasn't going to lower herself again as he wished.

It was completely over between them.

She wiped her face roughly and went back to packing her suitcase.

But halfway through, she realized something was missing.

Her deceased mother's old silver necklace, the only thing she had left, was gone.

Nicole turned the whole walk-in closet upside down, even checked under the bed, but the necklace was nowhere to be found. It was like it had just vanished.

She sank to the floor, unconsciously gripping the edge of her shirt. Besides her, the only person who had been in the study was Cruz.

Recalling what she overheard back at the courthouse, she bit her lip, grabbed her coat, and walked out.

Outside the private room at the club, loud voices and laughter could be heard clearly, even through the thick door.

"I bet five days! No way Nicole makes it past that without begging Cruz to remarry her!"

"Five? That's generous. Everyone knows she's hopeless without him. I'm going with three."

"I say just one! She was on her knees the last time!"

"Cruz, what's your guess?"

The room suddenly got quiet. Cruz sat in the center, slowly swirling his whiskey, his expression unreadable.

Right before he could answer, the door burst open. Nicole stepped in and said, "It's forever."

Right as Nicole spoke, a soft voice cut in over hers.

"Sorry, I'm late."

Angela Simpson strolled in, instantly drawing everyone's attention.

With a sweet smile, she clung to Cruz's arm and leaned into him affectionately.

Nicole looked at their intimate posture and tremblingly closed her eyes.

Angela had been around since Cruz was a kid. From when he first started dating to his marriage to Nicole, Angela never left their lives.

He never told her to back off. He even let her cross the line repeatedly, like it was no big deal.

Nicole used to wonder if Cruz had real feelings for Angela.

But after reading those love letters, it finally clicked.

Angela was just a way to make Nicole jealous.

Cruz enjoyed seeing her jealousy.

That was when he noticed Nicole standing at the door and frowned. "Why are you here?"

Nicole gripped the strap of her bag and realized he hadn't even heard her words.

"My necklace is missing," she said, locking eyes with him. "I just want to know if you've seen it."

Cruz froze for a second, then his mood shifted. "That's it?"

"What else would it be?" Nicole asked, "What do you think I'm here for?"

His expression instantly darkened.

Nicole was familiar with that expression.

He always made it whenever she didn't play along with whatever version of the story he'd made up in his mind.

"That silver necklace?" Angela suddenly interrupted, "I told Cruz I liked it, so he gave it to me."

She tilted her head like she was being innocent. "But I lost it on the way home."

Nicole's head started spinning as she snapped, "You gave her my necklace?!"

"It's just a necklace," Cruz cut in coldly. "Why are you getting so worked up? I'll buy you ten more if you want."

"That's my mom's keepsake!" Nicole shouted, her voice shaking.

The whole room went dead silent.

Cruz looked taken aback at first, but he quickly went back to his usual indifferent look. "It's already gone. What do you expect me to do? Don't make a fuss."

Nicole bit her lips so hard they started to bleed.

She'd told him it was her mother's keepsake, and he still thought she was just overreacting.

Did he like her in this way?

Realizing she'd never see that necklace again, she turned around and walked away. If she stayed any longer, she might break down right there.

Behind her, a chair scraped across the floor. Cruz got up. "That's enough. Let's head out."

He came after her.

Outside the club, the wind cut against Nicole's face like tiny blades.

She kept her head down and moved fast, not wanting anyone to notice her red, puffy eyes.

Then, she heard a strange creaking sound above.

Before she could look up, someone behind her yelled, "Watch out!"

Nicole's eyes shot up. A giant billboard was crashing down toward them.

Cruz dashed toward her without hesitation.

But when their eyes met, he swerved at the last second and threw himself over Angela instead.

Bang!

Pain exploded through her body, and all Nicole could feel was how pathetic she was.

He'd rather let her get hurt than let anyone see he might care.

When she finally came to, all she saw was a plain white ceiling.

Nicole slowly turned her head, but the ward was empty.

"You're awake," a nurse said as she walked in to change her bandages. "You've been out for two days. Good thing it was just a minor concussion."

Nicole's throat burned. "Who brought me in?"

"Your husband," the nurse replied while adjusting the IV. "He was freaking out. You were covered in blood, and he looked like he was gonna lose it. But as soon as the doctor said you'd be okay, he rushed off. He said he had something urgent. Strange, right?"

Nicole shut her eyes and gave a tired, bitter smile.

She wasn't shocked at all.

He'd never let her see how he truly felt.

Cruz didn't show up for a few days.

It wasn't until Nicole was getting discharged that he finally showed his face again.

Angela was with him, smiling as she clung to his arm.

"Wow, Nicole, you bounced back fast. I've been sickly since I was a child. I only caught a little cold, but Cruz freaked out," Angela said in a sweet voice. "He dragged me here for a checkup."

Nicole kept folding her clothes, not even glancing up.

Cruz couldn't stop staring, like he was trying to read her face.

Then out of nowhere, he said, "Good timing. We can give you a ride back. Angela's place is getting redone, so she's gonna stay with us for a while."

Nicole zipped her suitcase and said, "Whatever."

It didn't matter. Once the month-long waiting period ended, they'd be done for good.

Cruz could let whoever he wanted move in. It was none of her business.

Her lack of reaction seemed to darken his mood.

When they got back to the villa, he acted like he was mad, being all lovey-dovey with Angela right in front of Nicole.

But no matter what tricks he tried, she just didn't care.

At dinner, Cruz peeled shrimp and hand-fed Angela.

Nicole kept eating, but it all tasted bland and dry, like chewing paper.

"Ah!" Angela yelped, scratching at her skin. "It itches!"

Nicole looked up and noticed a red rash spreading across Angela's neck. Her breathing was also getting worse.

Cruz rushed over and scooped her up. "Call the doctor!"

The doctor came fast and said it was a peanut allergy.

Cruz glared and called over the maid, voice cold. "I told you many times that Angela can't have peanuts! Why was there peanut butter in the food?"

The maid looked down, fidgeting with her apron and stealing a glance at Nicole. "Mrs. Yarbrough told me to. I'm sorry, Mr. Yarbrough. I'm just the maid."

Nicole stood up in shock. The chair scraped loudly on the floor. "When did I ever—"

"Please, Mrs. Yarbrough, stop making excuses!" the maid suddenly yelled, cutting her off. "You told me you didn't want Ms. Simpson here, and you were jealous of Mr. Yarbrough's attention. You told me to teach her a lesson."

"Nicole."

Cruz's voice was sharp, and the dining room felt like it dropped ten degrees.

He walked toward her, his shoes clicking hard on the marble floor.

"You've been quiet since the courthouse. I figured you'd learned your lesson." He stared down at her, like he could see straight through her. "Guess I was wrong."

Nicole was about to respond, but she suddenly froze.

She caught a tiny smirk at the corner of Cruz's lips. It was quick, but it was there.

"Since you want Angela to suffer an allergic reaction..." Cruz said as he turned and pulled a heavy bottle of liquor from the wine shelf. The bottle hit the table with a sharp clink. "Then it's only fair you get a taste too."

Nicole's whole body went numb as her back pressed against the icy wall.

He had always known she was allergic to alcohol.

Two guards stepped up and grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing hard enough to make her flinch in pain.

When the alcohol slid down her throat, it felt like fire spreading from her mouth to her stomach.

She coughed violently, her eyes filling with tears, yet somehow, she still ended up swallowing half the bottle.

That horrible itching started immediately, rising from deep under her skin.

Large red rashes started spreading across her neck and arms. Breathing got harder by the second, and her vision started to fade.

Right before everything went black, Nicole caught one last image—Cruz standing there in the glow, wearing a faint smile.

He was actually smiling.

When she came to, the bedroom was dim, lit only by a soft wall lamp.

Cruz was sitting on the bed, flipping through some documents. He didn't even glance up until he heard her move.

"Oh, you're awake." He shut the folder and spoke like it was no big deal. "Don't do that again."

Nicole tried to sit up. Her throat felt raw and sore.

She saw Cruz's relieved expression, and something clicked. Her chest tightened.

It didn't matter to him if Angela had an allergy or not.

What bothered him was her acting cold lately, and what made him happy was seeing her get jealous.

It was just like those letters he kept locked up. He got a kick out of watching her lose control over him.

Unfortunately, she was done playing that game.

There were two more weeks to go.

After that, they'd officially divorce and go their separate ways.

Angela's design won first prize two days later.

Cruz went all out and threw a fancy party to celebrate.

He stayed close to her the whole night under the shiny lights, stepping in when people offered drinks and even fixing her dress for her. He acted sweet and thoughtful.

People whispered all around, saying how Cruz treated his childhood friend well, but he couldn't care less about his wife. They said if Nicole hadn't kept trying to save the relationship, their marriage would've ended long ago.

Nicole stood alone, swirling her drink and ignoring the whispers.

Midway through the event, she stepped out to the lake for some air.

The cool wind helped clear out the smell of alcohol.

"You finally hit your limit, huh?"

Angela's voice rang out behind Nicole, dripping with smugness.

She strutted over in heels, smiling sarcastically. "If I were you, I would've walked away a long time ago."

Nicole didn't even turn around. "Get lost."

Angela sneered. "Don't act like you don't care. You've chased Cruz for four years, been married three, and he still doesn't care about you. It's honestly sad. Want to bet? Even if I shoved you in the lake, he wouldn't even blink."

As the words fell, Nicole felt a hard shove.

Splash!

Freezing water rushed over her face. She tried to scream, but water filled her mouth and nose.

Through her fading vision, she saw someone sprint toward her and dive in.

"Nicole!"

Cruz sounded more panicked than ever. He rushed through the water, holding her tightly around the waist.

Nicole looked into his eyes and got lost for a second. He looked so fearful that it almost didn't feel real.

On the shore, Angela just stood there, frozen in disbelief. She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

Cruz, who usually treated Nicole like she didn't matter, had dived into the lake crazily.

The way he held onto her was like he was afraid of losing something precious.

Angela couldn't wrap her head around it.

She thought she must have seen it wrong.

Once they were back on land, Cruz dropped to the ground and started giving Nicole CPR. His fingers were visibly shaking. He didn't relax until she coughed up water.

Then suddenly, his face changed. It was like he caught himself feeling too much.

He stood up straight, shoved his emotions aside, and spoke coldly, "How do you even end up falling in at a party?"

Nicole sat there, drenched. She gripped the fabric of her dress tightly, and her voice came out sharp. "I didn't fall. Angela pushed me."

Angela's eyes instantly turned red. She shook her head hard. "Nicole, I didn't do that! How could you slander me?"

"Fine." Nicole sneered. With shaky hands, she pulled out her phone. "If you're not gonna admit it, let's have the police deal with it. You tried to kill me—there's a price for that."

Just as she went to call, Cruz grabbed her wrist.

"That's enough," he whispered, gripping so hard it hurt. "Angela didn't mean to. Don't blow this up."

Nicole abruptly looked up in disbelief. "She almost drowned me."

"And yet, you're still alive, aren't you?" he said more firmly, squinting. "Stop creating drama."

It was so absurd that it almost made her laugh.

She knew Cruz was just using Angela to get a reaction out of her.

But she didn't expect he'd go so far as to ignore her life.

"I'm not being dramatic," she said, voice steady, pressing her thumb toward the call button. "I'm calling the cops."

"Enough!" Cruz snapped, yanking the phone away. "You're not thinking straight. Go cool off."

Then, he called over a bodyguard. "Put her in the confinement room. She can come out once she's calmed down."

Nicole fought hard as the bodyguard pulled her toward the confinement room.

"Cruz! Have you lost your mind?!" she screamed, voice cracking. "She tried to kill me! You know it!"

Her nails dug into the bodyguard's arm, leaving bloody marks. Her heels slipped off in the scuffle.

But he was too strong. She was like a butterfly trapped in someone's fingers. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't break free.

The door slammed shut behind her, and her eyes abruptly contracted.

The tiny room of less than three square meters had no windows. Darkness poured in like a flood and swallowed her whole.

"Let me out..." Her voice shook as it left her lips.

Something invisible was tightening around her neck—claustrophobia hitting hard.

Her mind flashed back to when she was ten. She was locked in a basement for three days by her stepmother.

That same despair—like the whole world had turned its back on her—hit her again after all these years.

Nicole sat huddled in the corner, her fingernails digging painfully into her palms.

She could hear a mouse scurrying somewhere in the dark. Clamping her lips shut, she didn't even dare to breathe too loudly.

Time stopped making sense. Maybe it was an hour; maybe a day.

She pushed away the food they gave her and knocked over the glass of water.

Her throat burned like it was on fire, but it was the mental torment that broke her down, not the thirst.

When the door finally opened the next day, the sudden brightness made her squeeze her eyes shut.

"Still holding on to that?" Cruz's voice came from above.

She barely lifted her head and saw him standing there against the light.

He still had on that same spotless suit, not even a wrinkle on the cuffs, while she looked disheveled and unkempt like a mad woman.

Out of nowhere, Nicole let out a laugh, and tears streamed down her face. "I won't hold on to that anymore..."

Her voice was barely there. "I don't want anything anymore."

All she wanted now was to break free—get away from Cruz, from Angela, and from this place that was tearing her apart.

Cruz frowned when he saw how off she seemed. Something about it made him uneasy.

Still, his face quickly went back to being indifferent. "Hope you stick to that."

He turned around and walked away, not noticing the resolute look in her eyes.

Nicole stumbled back into the room, collapsed face-down on the bed, and buried herself in the blankets.

She thought the tears had dried up, but they still slipped out and soaked the pillow.

She curled up tightly like a shrimp, even breathing hurt.

She stayed like that, dazed, until the next day. Eventually, she got up, ate something without tasting it, and drank some water.

Then her phone buzzed. It was a message in her old university group chat.

"Class reunion tonight at seven at the Crown Hotel! Hope to see everyone there!"

Nicole stared blankly at the screen.

Since she'd be leaving soon anyway, it would be the last time she'd see any of them. She might as well treat it as a goodbye.

The Crown Hotel was all lit up and glowing. Nicole lightly covered her swollen eyes with some makeup and picked out a plain white dress.

"Nicole!" Yvonne Lawrence, her university roommate, waved her over. "This way!"

A group of old classmates sat around, asking how she'd been.

Yvonne winked and said, "You passionately chased after Cruz back then. Did you ever get him?"

A few others looked over, clearly curious.

Nicole's fingers paused mid-movement.

Back then, everyone knew she was chasing after Cruz. But he didn't agree to be with her until after graduation, so barely anyone knew they were together.

And Cruz had always hated the idea of a wedding. He never even gave her one.

"I didn't," she said, smiling faintly.

If she had the chance to start over, she'd never want to meet him at all.

"No way! He didn't even go for someone as pretty as you?" someone blurted. "He must have crazy high standards!"

"Don't be sad," Yvonne said, already pulling out her phone. "I know a few great guys I can set you up with!"

"What are you matchmaking for?"

A cold, deep voice spoke from behind.

Nicole froze and turned to see Cruz and Angela standing a short distance away.

Cruz wore a sharp black suit, and the diamond pin on his tie caught the light.

"Cruz?!" the group gasped.

Angela clung to his arm, glowing in a stunning red dress.

Their entrance immediately stole all the attention in the room.

"Is this... your girlfriend?" someone asked.

Angela gave a shy smile, and Cruz didn't say a word.

The room quickly filled with excited chatter.

"As expected! The most popular guy in school should end up with a gorgeous girl. They're a perfect match!"

Nicole quietly sipped her water, acting like she didn't hear any of it.

Cruz's eyes were locked on her, sharp as blades.

The vibe picked back up. People broke into smaller groups, swapping stories and memories.

Then, someone suggested playing truth or dare. After a few spins, the bottle pointed straight at Angela.

"I choose to dare!" she said sweetly, sneaking a glance at Cruz.

"Kiss a guy here for ten seconds!"

As soon as the dare was announced, the room erupted in playful booing.

Angela blushed as she nervously played with the edge of her dress, but she still walked straight over to Cruz.

He sat back lazily on the couch, but his eyes drifted past everyone and landed on Nicole, who was quietly scrolling on her phone.

She didn't even flinch.

His gaze turned icy.

"Cruz..." Angela stood right in front of him, shyly biting her lip.

Everyone watched as Cruz suddenly pulled her in and kissed her hard.

"Wow—"

The crowd exploded.

The kiss went way past ten seconds. Cruz even made sure it sounded intense.

Nicole finally glanced up, but she just gave him a calm look before turning back to her screen.

His expression instantly darkened.

After that, Cruz became even more affectionate with Angela.

He fed her, hugged her waist, and whispered in her ear.

But now and then, his gaze would unconsciously drift back to Nicole.

She didn't even flinch.

Once the party ended, Nicole headed to the restroom to fix her makeup.

Just as she stepped out, Angela appeared at the corridor corner and blocked her way.

"Did you see this?" Angela waved her phone with a smug grin. The screen showed a photo of her and Cruz kissing. "Cruz is into me. So do yourself a favor and sign those divorce papers. Don't embarrass yourself by begging this time."

Nicole didn't even spare Angela a glance. She walked past her without a word.

Angela's face twisted in anger. She'd planned the whole thing, and now it felt like a complete joke.

She clenched her jaw, ready to slap Nicole. But then, she heard familiar footsteps coming down the corridor.

Changing her mind, she immediately switched tactics.

The sound of slaps echoed through the restroom. Angela slapped herself hard twice. Her cheeks turned red and swollen within seconds.

Right after, the door flew open.

"Cruz!" she cried, bursting into tears and running straight into his arms. "Nicole hit me..."

She complained through sobs, "All because I was just playing around with you earlier..."

Cruz held Angela, but his eyes locked on Nicole.

He had been wondering why Nicole seemed so unaffected by his and Angela's intimacy all night. Now it made sense.

She was secretly jealous.

That thought made something stir inside him, like he was secretly satisfied. But his face stayed cold.

"It was just a game. Why get so worked up?" he said icily. "And besides, we're divorced now. What I do is none of your business."

He stared at Nicole's pale face. "Hurting Angela won't help. If you want another shot at us, show your sincerity."

"I didn't hit her," Nicole replied calmly. "She was the one who—"

"Enough!" Cruz snapped. "If you're going to play these little games, then reflect on yourself here tonight."

Bang!

He slammed the door shut. The loud click of the lock followed.

Nicole pounded on the door, her palms turning red and numb from the force.

After a long time, she finally heard the lock click open.

She breathed a sigh of relief, ready to leave. But before she could go far, three men stepped out from the shadows and cornered her.

The leader yanked her hair and asked viciously, "Are you Nicole?"

"No, I'm not," she said quickly, sensing danger. She tried to bolt, but a punch slammed into her stomach.

The pain doubled her over. Before she could catch her breath, someone else yanked her up by the hair.

A harsh slap made her ears ring, and blood trickled from the corner of her lips.

"You've got a face, sure, but no shame, huh?" The leader grabbed her chin and smacked her face frivolously with his other hand. "We'll teach you a lesson today!"

They started beating her without mercy.

Nicole dropped to the ground, curling up and trying to shield her head.

She heard something snap in her ribs. The pain was blinding, but she clamped her mouth shut, refusing to make a sound.

"Hey, that's enough. Don't kill her," one of them finally said. "Ms. Simpson just wanted her roughed up."

Their footsteps faded, leaving her crumpled on the cold ground. Her whole body screamed in pain.

Nicole tried to wiggle her fingers, but even that made her break into a cold sweat.

Then, she heard Angela's mocking laugh echo down the corridor. "Let's see if she keeps acting all high and mighty now."

Nicole struggled to turn over and stared up at the harsh, blinding ceiling lights.

A single drop of blood slid down her forehead. Yet somehow, she smiled.

So this was what Cruz wanted?

He might've had feelings for her. But deep down, he wanted her wrecked, crushed, and stuck in a life that felt worse than dying.

He got what he wanted.

But it'd be the last time.

Nicole barely made it through the door, her body aching all over. From upstairs, she heard Angela's sweet voice floating down.

"Cruz, there's thunder tonight. Can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Gripping the railing tightly, Nicole climbed the stairs, her body screaming with pain. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead with every step.

Cruz was about to refuse. But when he saw Nicole, he changed his mind. "Sure."

He slipped his arm around Angela and led her into the main bedroom like Nicole didn't even exist.

Nicole smiled bitterly and dragged herself into the guest room without a word.

Over the next few days, she stayed home and focused all her energy on a design competition.

It was the path she wanted to reclaim once the divorce was finalized.

Back in college, Nicole had been the top student in her department. Her instructor, Beatrice Anderson, once said she would shape the future of the design world.

But that dream came crashing down after Cruz saw a coworker drop her off one day.

"Quit your job or end the marriage," he said coldly.

Without arguing, she resigned. Now, she was finally sketching again.

As she was adjusting the final touches on her design, the door suddenly opened.

Cruz came in with Angela. The moment he noticed the sketches, his expression darkened.

"I told you I don't want you doing this stuff," he said, snatching her paintbrush. "If you're hoping I'll reconsider the divorce, then stop right here."

Nicole looked at him and almost laughed.

Did he still think threats would work on her?

She didn't say a word—just calmly packed up her drawings.

Cruz thought she had given in and walked out, looking satisfied.

Angela, though, paused for a moment, her eyes lingering on the draft with visible interest.

Three days after she submitted her design draft, Nicole got a call from the organizer.

Ms. Quinn, your work may be plagiarized. If you can't prove it yourself, we'll have to disqualify you."

"What?" Nicole was shocked. "Who did I supposedly copy?"

"The piece matches a submission from Angela. She's a trending designer right now. Honestly, it's more likely the issue is on your end."

Right away, Nicole remembered the way Angela had stared at her sketches earlier.

"I have the original," she said quickly.

But after hanging up, she searched everywhere. The manuscript was gone.

"Looking for this?"

Nicole spun around. Angela stood there, holding the manuscript.

"How did you get that?" Nicole asked.

Angela gave a smug smile and twirled the manuscript. "I said I liked it, and Cruz gave it to me."

She leaned in and whispered, "Cruz is into me. Just face the truth and stop dreaming about getting back with him. It's better for everyone if you let go now."

Nicole's mind went blank. She stormed off to find Cruz, but he didn't even blink. "I told you before—I don't like you doing this kind of stuff. If you'd listened and stopped, none of this would've happened."

She stared at the man she had loved for seven years, her heart feeling like it was being torn apart.

Why was he always like that?

He never cared about what she liked and never once considered how she felt.

If it weren't for those letters, she would've thought he never had feelings for her at all.

Nicole realized the original draft was gone, and arguing about it now wouldn't change anything. Everyone already saw her as a plagiarist.

She returned to her room in a daze and shut herself in the darkness.

It wasn't until her phone suddenly rang that she snapped out of her daze.

"Nicole! Are you coming back into the design world?" Beatrice's voice rang with excitement. "I saw your work at the competition!"

Nicole's voice cracked. "Ms. Anderson, I didn't copy anyone..."

"I believe you," Beatrice replied right away. "No one out there matches your talent. I've always known that."

She sighed. "It's such a waste you gave it all up because of Cruz."

"I was dumb back then," Nicole admitted, brushing away tears. "But I've already filed for divorce. I'm ready to start fresh."

"That's great!" Beatrice cheered. "Wanna join my studio in Paris? All your seniors are there, and things are going great. If you come, we'll turn you into the brightest star in design!"

"Can I?"

"Of course! Who knows your talent better than me?" Beatrice pretended to be angry. "If you hadn't suddenly quit back then..."

Nicole took a deep breath. "Okay, I'll go. I'll leave once the divorce goes through."

Right after she said that, the door burst open. Cruz stood in the doorway, his expression dark and unreadable.

"Where do you want to go?"

Nicole hung up quickly and forced herself to stay calm. "You probably misheard."

Cruz squinted at her, clearly suspicious, but he didn't push it.

Instead, he said, "You and Angela have been tense lately because of the design stuff. I'll take you both to the amusement park tomorrow. It'll help you relax."

Nicole wanted to say no right away, but she stopped herself.

She remembered how she used to beg him to go to amusement parks, and he always called them childish.

If she turned him down now, it might look weird.

"Alright," she responded softly.

The amusement park was packed with people.

Cruz stayed close to Angela, buckling her into the roller coaster, helping her onto the carousel, and even feeding her ice cream.

Nicole trailed behind like she wasn't even there.

Then, Cruz got a call from the company and stepped aside to take it. Angela suddenly grabbed Nicole's wrist. "Let's try bungee jumping!"

Nicole instinctively pulled her hand back. "I'm not going."

"Cruz said we should get along," Angela whispered, stepping closer. "Still mad about the design thing? You really hold grudges."

People around them started staring curiously.

Nicole pursed her lips, not wanting a scene. She gave in and followed Angela onto the ride.

Click!

The safety bar came down. Angela leaned close again. "Oh, by the way, Cruz promised me a trip to the Maldives after the divorce goes through—"

Before she could finish, the ride jerked violently.

"Ah!"​

As soon as the seatbelt snapped, Nicole felt her body go weightless.

She and Angela plummeted from over ten meters high.

The air roared past her ears, and Nicole shut her eyes, bracing for the worst.

But the pain never came. Instead, she landed in a warm embrace.

When she opened her eyes, Cruz's panicked face was right there.

He held her tightly, his breathing ragged.

"You..."

She barely got the word out before Cruz quickly pulled away like he'd touched something hot.

"I grabbed the wrong person," he muttered awkwardly, then rushed over to Angela, who lay on the ground. "Angela!"

***

At the hospital, a doctor hurried up. "She's losing a lot of blood and needs an urgent transfusion! The blood type is RH negative. The supply is low!"

Cruz immediately looked straight at Nicole.

"You're RH negative too." That wasn't a question, but a statement.

Nicole leaned on the wall, her knee still bleeding. She met Cruz's eyes and suddenly understood what he wanted.

"Give blood," he said, stepping in close and whispering, "If you do, I'll take back the divorce."

His breath brushed past her ear. It smelled cold and familiar.

There was a time when being that close would've made her heart flutter.

Now, all it did was make her feel empty.

When the nurse handed over the consent form, Nicole signed it right away.

She couldn't let Cruz start suspecting anything—not when she had plans to leave for Paris.

She had to play it safe.

As the needle went in, she turned her head away, watching the blood slowly drip into the bag.

One bag filled, then another.

"Stop right there!" the nurse suddenly called out. "She's already at her limit!"

Nicole's vision blurred, and her ears rang.

Everything felt hazy. She saw Cruz standing nearby, frowning. His lips were moving, but she couldn't hear a word.

The white walls of the hospital hurt my eyes.

After Nicole had finished the blood transfusion, the doctor insisted that she stay in the hospital for observation. However, Cruz never came to see her once.

The phone kept vibrating, it was a photo sent by Angela.

The photo of Cruz feeding her porridge.

A photo of Cruz standing by the sickbed.

When Cruz was asleep, she stole a photo of him kissing his cheek.

Nicole deleted one by one, her heart no longer wavering.

When the heart dies completely, even the sense of pain will disappear.

On the last day of the waiting period, Nicole woke up early.

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains as she packed the last piece of clothing into her suitcase.

The plane tickets to Paris lay quietly in the bag, for the flight at three in the afternoon.

At that moment, the doorbell suddenly rang.

Cruz stood at the doorway, dressed sharply in a suit, as if he had just returned from an important meeting.

"Angela is out of danger," he cut to the chase. "I promised to accompany you to withdraw the application, and I will keep my word."

Nicole quietly watched him.

"However," Cruz added, "if you make the same mistake again next time, I will still bring up divorce."

Nicole suddenly felt like laughing.

There will be no next time.

She was about to embark on her own journey of life.

Along the way, the two of them remained silent.

Nicole tightened her grip on the bag strap until the car stopped in front of the courthouse.

"We're here," Cruz unbuckled his seatbelt, "Hurry up, I still need to go to the hospital to see Angela."

Nicole looked at the familiar glass doors of the courthouse, absentmindedly running her fingertips along the edge of her phone.

She needed to find a way to distract Cruz and make sure he didn't follow them inside.

"I..."

Just as he started speaking, Cruz's phone began to ring.

"Angela?" he frowned as he picked up the phone, "What's wrong? Don't cry, I'll be right over."

Hanging up the phone, Cruz turned to Nicole and said, "Angela is feeling unstable, I need to go over there first. You go in and cancel the application yourself, and let me know when it's done."

Nicole lowered her eyelashes, hiding the relief in her eyes: "Okay."

She watched as Cruz's car sped away, then turned and walked into the courthouse.

The familiar clerk greeted with a smile, "Ms. Quinn, coming to withdraw your application again?"

"No," Nicole took out the prepared documents from her bag, "I came to pick up the Divorce Certificate today."

When she got home, Nicole placed the Divorce Certificate belonging to Cruz on the coffee table and picked up the already packed suitcase.

The closing sound of the door was very soft, but it felt like a knife, completely cutting off seven years of infatuation.

On the way to the airport, the sun was shining brightly.

Nicole rolled down the car window, closed her eyes slowly, and felt the taste of freedom in the air.

Goodbye, Cruz.

This time, I really didn't want you anymore.