Louis first declared his identity as her husband, then summarily canceled the report. After hanging up, he looked at her with exasperation.

“Cersei, Violet has always been with me. How could she have had time to push you?”

Watching his undisguised defense of Violet, Cersei’s eyes welled up with bitterness. Through gritted teeth, she enunciated each word. “Whether she pushed me or not isn’t determined by what I say or what she says. There are security cameras here. The footage will show exactly what happened. Come with me!”

With that, Cersei turned to walk toward the security office. Louis grabbed her arm, his tone hardening. “Cersei, stop making a scene. I won’t check the footage, and I won’t let you check it either.”

In that moment, Cersei froze. Looking at his face, she found it unfamiliar. Was this really the same Louis who once loved her more than life itself? If it were truly him, why would he be so indifferent to her safety? Why would he protect a woman who had repeatedly put her in danger? Indeed, if not for his indulgence, they wouldn’t have ended up like this.

The conviction in her heart collapsed in that instant. Realizing that persisting would be meaningless, she closed her eyes and suppressed her despair. Without a word, she turned and walked away.

Cersei returned to the lounge alone to change her clothes. Soon after, the yacht docked. She didn’t wait for them but took an Uber back to the mansion by herself.

Three days later, on her birthday, the divorce agreement drafted by Willow arrived.

Simultaneously, Louis had his assistant deliver a bouquet of flowers with a note: “Cersei, I’ve made a reservation at the Hilton for 7 PM. I have a surprise for you.”

Cersei stared at the flowers, suddenly recalling their first year of marriage. To celebrate her birthday, he’d rented out an entire amusement park. He had kissed her at the highest point of the Ferris wheel, promising to love her forever. Now, his surprise was probably just an afterthought, hastily arranged in a moment stolen from his time with Violet.

“Okay,” she quietly agreed. It would be their farewell.

Cersei checked the time—there wasn’t much left before their 7 PM appointment. She changed into a new outfit and left.

Flickering candles, fragrant roses, a violinist playing romantic melodies nearby. She sat quietly, waiting for Louis to arrive. But seven o’clock. He didn’t show. Eight o’clock. He still wasn’t there. Nine o’clock. Still nothing. At 11 PM, he still hadn’t arrived.

The waiter had been watching her closely and finally approached. “Ma’am, we’re closing soon. Would you like to order anything…”

Cersei checked the time—Midnight. The candles from their candlelit dinner had burned out. Five hours had passed since their appointed time.

She took out her phone and called Louis. The phone rang for a long time before he finally answered.

“Cersei, something came up at the office. I don’t think I can make it.” His voice carried perfunctory regret. “I’m using a forgiveness card.”

Cersei tightened her grip on the phone. “Are you sure you want to use the most important card for something so trivial?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end. Louis sounded confused. “What do you mean, the most important?”

She didn’t answer. Because in the next second, Violet’s coquettish voice came through. “Louis! The meteor shower is starting! Hurry over!”

Louis hurriedly replied, “I’m sure, Cersei. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

After the call ended, Cersei opened her Instagram. Violet had just posted an update: [Watching the meteor shower with my lover~] The accompanying photo showed Louis’s profile as he looked up at the night sky, smiling.

Cersei gently tapped the “like” button. Then she got up and left.

Back home, she placed the divorce agreement and all 100 forgiveness cards on the bedside table. On top, she attached a note, “100 forgiveness cards, now all used up.”

“I once said that when these cards were gone, I would leave you forever.”

“Louis Harris, never again.”

Pulling her suitcase behind her, she walked out of the mansion without looking back. The night breeze blew through her hair, carrying away the last traces of attachment.