Chapter 2: Who Would Ever Know How Good I Was?

The world around him was silent, holding only the lingering weight of unspoken attachment. After a long pause, Chase murmured softly, "Mom, I want a divorce." He lowered his head, a tear escaping. Only the tombstone witnessed his confession. If only we'd never gotten married.

He stopped at the law office on the way home to collect the divorce papers prepared earlier. He'd made his decision the moment he first broached the subject with his mother-in-law. If Wendy no longer loved him, ending it sooner would be kinder, preventing her from missing an opportunity with Henry. He owned little; he'd left virtually no trace of himself in the house, as if anticipating this day. After an afternoon of packing, he had only a small suitcase. Anyone unfamiliar with his five years there would have thought he was merely on a business trip.

That evening, Wendy returned unexpectedly early. The usual warmth and the sight of Chase cooking were absent, replaced by an unsettling silence that startled her. Instinctively, she called him.

Meanwhile, at Arthur University's medical school, Chase's former mentor was shocked by his transformation. Five years of marriage had hollowed out the bright, promising young man, his best student, his most talented protégé. Before graduation, Chase had received full scholarships from Ivy League schools and offers from top hospitals. Everyone expected him to seize those opportunities. No one anticipated his marriage, or the unhappiness it brought. "Chase… what happened to you?" the mentor asked, his heart heavy. His hand reached out to grasp Chase's. "If you're unhappy, take a different path. Many are waiting for your return to the operating room."

Chase had been the only medical student permitted to assist renowned surgeons before graduation. His surgical technique was impeccable, beyond reproach. He chuckled softly, patting his mentor's hand. "The divorce will be finalized soon. I'm here to reinstate my student status. I'll handle the paperwork in a few days."

The mentor's face brightened. "Really?"

"Yes," Chase replied, a rare clarity in his voice. "It's been five years. We're even now. We can go our separate ways. I'll sign the divorce papers tonight. The Darovia Medical School position… is it still open?"

"It is! It is!" The professor produced Chase's application, already signed on his end. "All that's missing is your signature." The old man had been thinking of him.

As Chase left, his phone rang—Wendy. He barely remembered their last phone conversation; he usually reached her secretary. "Where are you?" Her voice was muffled, as if she'd just removed her coat.

"At school. My professor asked me to come in," he replied calmly, concealing the flicker of hope within. His packed suitcase was visible in the living room. If she cared, she would notice. He entered the silent house, his gaze falling on the untouched suitcase. What exactly was I hoping for?

"I'm heading out now. Don't worry," he said into the phone. Wendy, fresh from a shower, looked tense. Usually, he'd remind her to dry her hair, even if she found it annoying. But today, he silently produced the divorce agreement, still standing by the door. He knew it was about Henry.

After the call, Wendy contacted her assistant: "Drive over now. Pick up Henry and Joy. Joy has a fever. Take them to the hospital. I'll be there soon." She passed him as if he were invisible. This time, Chase didn't hesitate. "Sign it," he said, handing her the papers.

Wendy paused, glancing at him. "You… Joy's sick. I'm going to check on her."

"It's fine," Chase replied. "Once we're divorced, you can openly care for Mr. Henry and his child."

"Don't be dramatic. I'm in a rush." She signed the papers hastily, irritation evident. "The only time you ever take initiative is when you want money."

Stunned, Chase remained silent, even after she returned the signed documents. "Wendy, do you even know what you just signed?"

"Isn't it the adoption agreement?" she snapped. "We've never had kids. My mom's been nagging me for years. Didn't she tell us to adopt? I just don't have the time."

Adoption? A Kid? They had discussed it, but Chase had refused, believing no child would thrive in their marriage. Her phone shrilled. He longed to snatch it and throw it away. You don’t see me. You don’t think about me. Weren’t you the one who said we’d build a life together?

There had been happiness, in their first year, perhaps when Henry settled abroad and Wendy turned back to him. He'd attended classes, cooked for her. The hands that performed surgery had also made her soup.

"Was Henry good to you? Back then," Chase asked.

Wendy didn't hesitate. At the door, she looked back with a cold expression. "Don't start."

"Wendy, I…" The door slammed shut. He laughed dryly. What was I even hoping for?

Hadn't he always known about Wendy's obsession with Henry? What more was there to say? The divorce papers were in his hand. He grabbed his suitcase, looked around the house one last time. Despite the lack of warmth, it was home, especially after his mother's death. He wondered how long it would take Wendy to realize he was gone. The unloved leaves, and the loved one takes their place. So will Henry live here?