Chapter 5: Stay Optimistic

Cecilia returned to her room and forced down mouthfuls of pills. She touched behind her ear; her fingertips were covered in blood. The doctor's advice echoed in her mind: "Ms. Smith, in many cases, worsening conditions are linked to a patient's emotions. You must remain emotionally stable, stay optimistic, and actively cooperate with treatment."

Optimistic? Easier said than done. Cecilia tried not to dwell on Nathaniel's words. She leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes. As dawn approached, she still hadn't slept. Perhaps the medication was working; she could hear slightly better. Staring at the faint sunlight filtering through the window, Cecilia remained lost in thought. "The rain has stopped," she murmured.

Giving up is a cumulative process; one final straw, a cold word, or a trivial matter can be the breaking point. Today, Nathaniel stayed home. He sat on the couch, waiting for Cecilia's apology, for her regret. They had been married three years; this wasn't her first tantrum. Each time, after tears and anger, she apologized. He expected this time to be no different. He watched as Cecilia emerged, freshly washed, in one of her usual dark outfits. She carried a suitcase and a piece of paper. Handing the document to Nathaniel, she revealed a divorce agreement. "Nathaniel, contact me when you have time," she said.

With that curt sentence, Cecilia dragged her suitcase out the door. Outside, the sky had cleared. For a moment, Cecilia felt reborn. Nathaniel remained frozen on the sofa, holding the agreement. It took him a long time to react. Only when Cecilia was out of sight did he realize she was gone. A brief moment of frustration gave way to his usual indifference; he didn't take her departure seriously. A phone call, a word from him, and she would obediently return, eager to please. This time would be no different.

It was the weekend after All Souls' Day. In previous years, Nathaniel had brought Cecilia to Rainsworth Manor for the memorial service, enduring the strange looks from his relatives.

Finally, alone, Nathaniel drove to Rainsworth Manor in exceptionally good spirits. The spring breeze felt liberating. The Rainsworth family was large; many relatives returned for the annual memorial. Including extended family, there were at least five or six hundred people. Among Nathaniel's generation alone, there were seventy or eighty, many exceptionally talented. To rise above them and become head of the family was a considerable achievement. He was domineering and assertive, ruling with an iron fist, feared by peers and elders alike. Despite the fear, gossip about him was plentiful. The influential man had been deceived, marrying a hearing-impaired wife. At Rainsworth Manor, Elena, Nathaniel's mother, had instructed the servants: "Remember, when Cecilia arrives, do not allow her into the guest hall."

Only the family rule requiring the eldest grandson's wife's presence at the memorial allowed Cecilia a public appearance. This year, however, she hadn't come. Everyone was surprised. Previously, Cecilia had always been the first to arrive and last to leave, flattering everyone. Today, she was absent. Elena, chatting with other noblewomen, learned of Cecilia's absence. Her elegant eyebrows furrowed. The Rainsworth memorial was significant; it wasn't something to be missed casually. She approached Nathaniel, gently asking, "Nathaniel, where is Cecilia?"

Nathaniel, chatting with childhood friends, turned cold at the question. "She's filed for divorce and left home," he announced.

Silence fell; disbelief filled the room. Elena was shocked. In the world, no one loved Nathaniel more than Cecilia. Seven years ago, she'd saved his life. Four years ago, during his Daprein business trip, when everyone believed him dead, she'd searched tirelessly for three days, only to be blamed for meddling. After their marriage, she was always careful, fearing to offend anyone. A woman who couldn't live without Nathaniel had filed for divorce after her father's death. Why? Elena didn't understand, but she was grateful. "A woman like her is unsuitable," Elena declared. "Divorce is best. She was never good enough for you."

Others chimed in, agreeing. "Nathaniel is a young, talented man, and Cecilia held him back." "She lacked the demeanor of a noblewoman—taste, morals. And she's deaf."

The memorial turned into a session of slandering Cecilia, painting her as the most despicable person. They forgot the many wealthy heirs who'd sought Cecilia's hand when her father, Regas, was alive and Nathaniel's position uncertain. They forgot the Rainsworth family's proposal of the marriage alliance. Before, gossip had been whispered behind Nathaniel's back. Now, it was open. Nathaniel should have been pleased, but the voices grated. He left Rainsworth Manor first.

By the time he reached Daltonia Villa, it was dark. He tossed his coat near the entrance. When no one greeted him, he looked up at the silent living room, realizing Cecilia was gone. Irritated, he changed into slippers, threw his coat in the washing machine, and wondered at his fatigue. He went to the wine cellar, only to find the door locked and realize he lacked the key. He disliked outsiders; the villa only employed part-time workers, not a full-time housekeeper. Cecilia had managed everything. He searched the bedroom for the key, finding nothing. Annoyed, he picked up his phone.