Chapter 2

Once I had composed my emotions, I took my resignation letter and went straight to William's company to process my departure.

I was not only his wife but also his company's chief designer—though he had never publicly acknowledged this, assigning me only the nominal title of an assistant.

Along the way, employees pointed and whispered.

"Isn't that Elena? How does she still have the face to come here?"

"Yeah, last month she tried to ask Mr. William for five thousand dollars, and the secretary had to throw her out."

"I heard she made up an excuse about her son being sick just to buy designer bags. Absolutely shameless."

"Ignore that parasite, let's go..."

Listening to this gossip, I smiled bitterly.

For years, William had never disclosed our marriage. To avoid suspicion, he made me do the most exhausting work for the lowest wages.

I designed desperately, even staying up until my retina detached just to help the company meet the Fashion Week deadline.

I only wanted to become more valuable, so that he would acknowledge me, acknowledge our son.

But my requests for a raise were rejected by him time and again.

I asked him for an explanation.

He would wrap his arm around my shoulder and brainwash me with a smile: "Elena, this is all to toughen you up, to make you a better, more virtuous helpmate!"

"Besides, I earn enough money. Do you think I can't support you and the boy, or are you trying to climb the corporate ladder to seize power?"

I was left speechless, believing he truly had his reasons.

That was until the day Sophia returned to the country. He rented out the entire screen in Times Square to celebrate her birthday.

That very night, Sophia was parachuted into the company, appointed as Creative Director, and directly took credit for all my designs.

It was in that moment I understood that the difference between being loved and unloved was so cruel.

Since that was the case, there was no need to continue this absurd marriage.

I placed the resignation letter on the desk of the HR department.

Walking out of the company gates, I expected my heart to be heavy, but instead, I felt an unprecedented lightness.

For years, I had been like an eagle with clipped wings, imprisoned in a cage, suppressed and stifled.

Now, I finally saw the sky of freedom.

I went to visit my son, placing the Lego set he had wanted most in life before his small tombstone.

I sat with him until night fell, then dragged my exhausted body back to that so-called "home."

Unexpectedly, when I pushed open the door, William was waiting in the living room.

"Do you know what time it is? Staying out all night now, are we?"

On the sofa, William frowned deeply, checking the luxury watch on his wrist, looking displeased.

His expression suggested he was waiting for me to cajole him, to explain, to apologize.

But I found it strange. In the past, if Sophia so much as sneezed, he would keep vigil by her bedside. Why wasn't he with her at the clinic today?

But that was no longer my concern, so I didn't ask. I simply replied calmly:

"Is something the matter?"

My cold tone caused William's expression to stiffen.

No matter what had happened before, I always had a hot meal ready to welcome him. But since his return from vacation, it was as if I had become a different person. No arguing, no fighting; even the look in my eyes had lost its warmth.

This caused him a vague sense of irritation, and he quickly said:

"Are you still angry about me going out with Sophia? I told you, we just went to relax."

"Hasn't the boy been clamoring to go camping? When I'm less busy, I'll take you both. Will that do?"

His attitude of bestowing charity made me sick. In his eyes, my son and I were like pets to be summoned and dismissed at will.

Suddenly, William seemed to remember something and looked around.

"By the way, where is Leo? I haven't heard a peep from him since I got back."

"Did you send him to boarding school?"

I looked at him in disbelief. He had been back for two days, and only now did he remember to ask about his son?

It was obvious he didn't care about his son, nor did he care about this home.

Before I could answer, Sophia, wearing my silk bathrobe and towel-drying her wet hair, walked out of the bathroom.