I finally noticed Elijah had changed his status message.
It had always been the same, a single word. [Wait.]
When I once asked him what it meant, he smiled and said he was waiting for my legs to heal.
But now, it had changed. [Home.]
And at last, I understood.
Wait had never been for me. He had been waiting for Scarlett. Home meant she was finally back.
I placed his phone back on the nightstand and stepped onto the balcony, my fingers tightening around my own.
"Hello, I’d like to book a plane ticket. Departure in five days."
Five days, just enough to bury five years of lies.
That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
The next day, during lunch, my phone lit up.
Elijah’s gaze flicked to it from the corner of his eye. His expression darkened.
"Wife, why are you applying to cancel your bank card?"
I shut off the screen, my voice calm. "My card is expiring. I scheduled a renewal."
He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then his phone rang.
"Wife, something came up at work. I have to handle it. I won’t be able to have lunch with you."
I nodded, watching as my parents followed him out the door.
And just like that, I was left alone in this house.
Just as I was about to step out, a friend request popped up on my phone.
[Azalea, you heard everything at the hospital yesterday, didn’t you?]
It was Scarlett.
[Your husband and I have a son.]
[Even your biological parents, when they heard from the doctor that your injuries had left you unable to bear children, immediately chose me instead. They told Elijah to be with me, to have a child with me.]
[We’re the real couple. You? You’re nothing but a joke.]
[They even helped me start a company. The grand opening is in five days. I guess they didn’t bother telling you that either, right?]
[I regret not running you over sooner. Then all of this would’ve been mine from the start.]
…
Each word sliced through me like a blade, cutting deep, leaving nothing but raw, open wounds.
So, this was why my parents had cast me aside.
This was why Elijah had stayed by her side so willingly.
Fingers trembling, I took screenshots of the messages and turned to the nightstand, retrieving my marriage certificate.
Buried inside, I found something else: his letter of forgiveness.
Clutching the documents, I headed straight to a lawyer.
But after scanning through them, he frowned.
The lawyer had explained that chat records couldn’t be used as solid evidence and that a letter of forgiveness from family members held legal weight.
When I asked him to draft the divorce agreement, he frowned and revealed that the marriage certificate was fake.
It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck me, leaving my heart plummeting into a bottomless abyss.
So Scarlett hadn’t lied. I truly had been nothing but a fool, a puppet in their cruel game.
But just as despair threatened to consume me, the lawyer’s eyes flickered with something new.
The lawyer's eyes lit up as he stated that, given the circumstances, Elijah's letter of forgiveness no longer held legal weight—it was an act of fraud and concealment.
A surge of hope rushed through me, breaking past the suffocating grief. Clutching onto that sliver of light, I begged him to help me file a lawsuit.
Leaving the law firm, I hailed a taxi and made my way to another hospital; my fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of my dress.
This time, I needed the truth.
When the doctor told me there was still hope for my leg, I broke down in tears of joy.
A sob tore from my throat as my vision blurred with tears.
He told me that the car accident had caused my fallopian tubes to become blocked, making it impossible for me to conceive. However, surgery could restore my fertility.
As for my leg, the fracture hadn’t worsened in the past five years and with surgery, I could regain my ability to walk soon.
I choked on my breath, struggling to process his words.
He smiled reassuringly. "It’s clear that someone has been taking good care of you. If your legs had been truly neglected for five years, there would’ve been no hope of recovery."
A bitter chill seeped into my bones, spreading through my heart like ice.
He didn’t know.
He had no idea that the very people he spoke of, my so-called family, were the ones who never wanted me to stand again.
No.
They were no longer my family.
As I stepped out of the hospital, my phone vibrated in my hand. Another message from Scarlett.
It was a photo.
In the picture, she cradled her son in Elijah’s arms, their faces glowing with contentment. My parents sat beside them, mirroring their joy.
The five of them smiled as if they belonged together.
Behind them, on the grand villa’s pristine wall, my father’s personally inscribed calligraphy read:
[A harmonious family brings prosperity.]
The cruel irony twisted deep inside me, cutting sharper than any blade.
