Chapter 3

Patrick always claimed he preferred me when I was rational and well-mannered.

I consistently put his feelings first in every situation. Even when I felt mistreated or upset, I would quickly cave to his persuasion and let things slide if he made any effort to reconcile.

Just like now—he's made a token attempt at reconciliation, fully expecting me to fall in line with his plan.

Never mind. I'm departing soon to live with my aunt overseas, and I don't want to raise any red flags before then.

"The porridge is a bit warm. Set it aside; I'll have it later."

Detecting the icy tone in my voice, Patrick spoke more gently. "Lora, you're so attentive. I always knew you were the most understanding."

Shortly after, Patrick got a call requesting his presence at the office. I could easily guess who was behind it.

Before departing, he planted a kiss on my forehead and said, "Be good. There's an urgent matter at work. Later this evening at the auction, I'll select a special piece of jewelry just for you and bring it home."

After his departure, I couldn't help but laugh cynically.

It's true—we were once genuinely in love. He did love me, but eventually, that love transferred to Christy.

He was unfaithful, yet he clung to such a weak excuse, asserting that Christy initially bore a strong resemblance to me.

I surveyed the marital home where we had cohabitated for seven years, my heart filled with resentment.

The living room wall showcased our photographs—memories spanning from our early romance, to our wedding, and our yearly anniversary snapshots.

We took a new picture together annually. Every year, except this one.

Our tale had reached its conclusion. It was time to go our separate ways.

I exhaled softly, removed my image from the group photos, and began gathering my possessions.

I discarded my portion of all the shared items scattered throughout the house.

Then, I signed the divorce papers my attorney had prepared, placing them in a box along with the abortion medical report, and left it on the nightstand.

For good measure, I scheduled the screenshots of Christy's social media posts and messages to be emailed to Patrick.

I had just sat down to take a breather when a new message from Christy appeared.

It contained the auction's time and location, along with a mocking comment, "Do you dare show up, old lady? Uncle said he'll release a sky lantern for love tonight!"

That night, I arrived at the auction precisely on time.

I hadn't intended to go—my flight to New Zealand was scheduled for that evening.

I was about to leave everything behind. Why should I let a young girl's petty taunts affect me?

Christy sent me the jewelry catalog for the night's auction, boasting about the world's finest yellow diamond necklace, the last item on the list. She was intent on acquiring it.

However, my interest was piqued by a piece from an up-and-coming designer—a subtle and refined brooch that would perfectly complement my aunt's everyday style.

I decided to purchase it as a gift for her.

My aunt is my closest relative. When my parents died during my youth, she took me in. Later, she relocated to New Zealand to start anew and wanted me to join her.

But at the time, I was head over heels for Patrick. She couldn't dissuade me, so she allowed me to remain in England.

How ironic that this supposed "true love" proved so ephemeral.

In a mere seven years, Patrick had redirected his affections to someone else.

Upon arriving at the auction, the prime seats in front were nearly all taken.

I opted for a spot in the back row, planning to depart once the auction ended.

Patrick and Christy were seated in the middle, huddled close and chuckling together.

Periodically, Christy would glance back, and when her eyes met mine, her lips would curl into a smug grin.

Her expression was that of a conceited young bird, swelling with self-importance.