His eyes, wide with disbelief, met hers. “Sandra, are you out of your mind?”

Out of her mind? Yes, she was clearly insane to have ever fallen for him.

Sandra fumed silently, her heart pounding. The sharp buzz of the phone on the table cut through the tension, offering a brief respite from their standoff.

Kristopher glanced at the message, snapped the phone shut, and strode to the door, his back rigid.

Her voice, firm and unwavering, followed him. “We’re getting a divorce! Make sure you sign those papers before you leave!”

He paused, then said sharply, “I have something to do. When I return, do whatever pleases you.” He slammed the door.

Sandra watched him go, a heavy weight settling on her chest. Ignoring the sharp pain in her leg, she hobbled to her tablet. Fingers trembling, she went to Elijah’s Twitter page. He’d just uploaded a new tweet: a photo of her, lying down with a fever patch on her forehead, still wearing Kristopher’s jacket. The caption read, “Being sick makes me extra clingy. Wishing I had someone here. Stay cozy and take care, everyone!”

The timing was impossible to ignore. Kristopher had rushed off to Elijah. This wasn’t an accident; Elijah had deliberately played on Kristopher’s emotions, and her tactics had been effective. Not even Sandra’s threat of divorce could overshadow Elijah’s display of vulnerability.

Seething, Sandra trembled. She steeled herself against the heartache, ripping the plastic wrap from her injured leg. The lingering bathwater had inflamed the wound, leaving it swollen and bright red.

She, too, could be clingy. She’d shown vulnerability in the past, especially in her grandmother’s arms after that scalding kettle incident. But this wasn’t the time. Kristopher’s departure forced her to confront her need for self-reliance.

Biting her lip, she cleaned and re-wrapped the wound. With newfound resolve, she pulled a black suitcase from her walk-in closet—it held everything she’d brought into this house as a hopeful bride. She changed clothes and left a bank card on the bedside table—every penny she’d earned in the past year, effectively settling her financial affairs with Kristopher and severing their ties for good.

Dragging the heavy suitcase, she limped out of the opulent villa. Passing through the gate, she pulled her baseball jacket tighter, her silhouette solitary in the darkness. The early spring night was bitterly cold, a chill that paled in comparison to the ice forming in her shattered heart.

She’d arrived with nothing but a suitcase and dreams; now, she was leaving, dreams shattered, utterly alone. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. If only she hadn’t fallen so hard, if only she’d proposed an amicable separation at the end of their agreed-upon year… Maybe she wouldn't be wandering now, a lost soul, a shadow of her former self. Elijah hadn’t had to lift a finger; Sandra had already fallen, utterly broken and beyond redemption.