“The temperature’s just right,” I said, handing it to him with a faint
smile. “Don’t let it get cold.”
In that moment, I looked exactly like the woman I had been five years
ago—
obedient, quiet, considerate.
Only this time, my heart was empty.
“I…” He started, his tone laced with something complicated. “Maybe you
should get some rest.”
I nodded.
“All right.”
I set down the cup and walked toward the door.
My shadow stretched long in the morning light spilling through the
window.
“Lucas,” I said softly, stopping in my tracks. My voice was so light it
almost dissolved into the air.
“Five years ago, I saved your life.”
He froze.
“But now,” I continued, “it’s time I saved my own.”
The door closed behind me, and I heard him take a long, heavy breath.
Nova leaned toward him, her voice a whisper, tinged with amusement.
“Don’t mind me. I’m just jealous.”
I didn’t look back.
Sunlight poured through the glass window, falling across the back of my
hand.
The scar there still burned faintly—
a mark left from the day I signed the surgery consent form five years
ago.
A seal that would never heal.
Kendall—
her smile faltered, cracking at the corners. My words had stolen
whatever composure she had left.
Lucas stood beside her, brow furrowed, his expression outwardly calm,
yet betraying a trace of unease.
The air hung silent for several seconds.
The kettle in the kitchen kept boiling softly.
While they said nothing, I untied my apron, turned around, and left.
My footsteps were light, yet carried a weight of finality I hadn’t felt
in years.
Back in the bedroom, I leaned against the door and took a deep breath.
The divorce would take effect in a week.
Seven days—
after that, I would no longer be Mrs. Lucas.
I picked up my phone and scrolled through rental listings, one after
another.
Old apartments on the edge of town, single rooms, shared flats…
Each title looked like an escape route, a map leading out of this life.
Just then, Lucas’s voice came from outside the door—low, cold.
“I’m going to the office this afternoon. Kendall will stay here. My body
hasn’t fully recovered—you’ll take care of me.”
I looked up, my tone so even it barely carried emotion.
“Take care of you? Are you sure I’m your maid… or your nurse?”
He hadn’t expected me to answer that way. His face changed slightly.
“Have you forgotten,” he said after a pause, voice heavy with warning,
“who allows you to still live here?”