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“You don’t know, do you? Eight years ago, we were together. You have no idea how incredible he was. He held me close and told me you were nothing but a dull, old-fashioned bore.”

“His kissing skills were unforgettable, but since that night, he hasn’t kissed you once. In his eyes, you could never compare to me.”

Scarlett painted a vivid picture of her affair with Ambrose, her words sharp and calculated. The simple, everyday moments Hazel had always dreamed of were mere trivialities to Scarlett. While usually composed and aloof around others, Ambrose was free-spirited and wild with Scarlett. He couldn’t find time to take Hazel to the hospital when she was feverish, yet he rushed through three streets carrying Scarlett after she twisted her ankle. He never took Hazel on their honeymoon, but he used their savings to whisk Scarlett away on a trip during their toughest times.

“So now, do you get it? It wasn’t a matter of time. He just didn’t love you enough.”

“Stop deceiving yourself. In his heart, there’s always only been me.”

Tears streamed down Scarlett’s face—not the soft sobs of someone caught in the rain, but the torrent of emotions long suppressed. Hazel hadn’t spoken or done anything to provoke this outburst.

“You’re right,” Hazel muttered, her voice steady and indifferent. She wouldn't waste another second. She had a swimming session. Ambrose's true affections no longer mattered; she'd realized that the moment she left him. The "white moonlight" and "red rose" were illusions fueled by desire. Ultimately, Ambrose loved only himself. He craved a perfect wife and a passionate lover, but lacked the courage to face this truth. Instead, he cloaked his desires in illusions, portraying Scarlett as the unattainable "white moonlight," transforming sordid acts into a semblance of pure love. Hazel, knowing Ambrose for over two decades, saw through his façade. Love had blinded her, but now clarity stripped him bare.

Her calm indifference ignited Scarlett's fury. Scarlett, expecting a battle, couldn't accept being dismissed so easily. Her simmering rage broke her restraint. As Hazel approached the curb, Scarlett shoved her toward oncoming traffic.

"Hazel!"

Ambrose, appearing suddenly, pulled Hazel into his arms just before disaster struck. The impact threw him back into a fire hydrant with sickening force. The event unfolded too quickly for Hazel to process.

Running Away from Marriage, Leaving Deception Behind

She struggled to catch her breath, her anger simmering as she prepared to demand accountability. But before she could, Ambrose slapped Scarlett.

“Scarlett, who gave you the right to hurt Hazel?”

He grabbed her neck, his furious eyes conveying a chilling threat. Hazel, noticing a gathering crowd and fearing police involvement, intervened, pulling Ambrose away.

“I don’t care what kind of mess you two have created. But leave me out of it. I don’t have time for your drama.”

Scarlett’s face flushed crimson, her breath ragged. Despite her trembling, she feigned wounded innocence, portraying herself as the victim.