The person on the other end of the line sounded both surprised and delighted.
"That's wonderful news. I'm really happy for you."
"But does Jonathan know?"
"I don't want to live with him anymore." Corrine shook her head lightly as she replied. "So I don't plan to let him know either."
Sensing something was off, the person on the phone didn't press further.
"All right. Take care of the divorce matters properly. I'll come pick you up in a month."
Back then, after her uncle finished arranging her parents' funeral, he had once asked whether she wanted to go abroad with him.
For Jonathan's sake, she had chosen to stay in this city. Now, it seemed that choice had been entirely meaningless.
After contacting a lawyer and drafting the divorce agreement overnight, Corrine planned to stay awake until dawn. But exhaustion overtook her, and she fell asleep before she could see the sunrise.
—
When she woke up the next morning, a cup of warm milk sat by her bedside, along with slices of bread she loved.
"Awake?"
Jonathan looked at her with tenderness, so convincing it almost felt unreal.
"Did you sleep well last night, Corrine?"
"I called you," she said calmly. "You didn't answer."
Her eyes were devoid of emotion as she continued, "Where were you last night—up until this morning?"
"I'm sorry," Jonathan replied smoothly. "Yesterday was the anniversary of your parents' death. I went upstairs to keep them company. I must've stayed longer than I realized..."
"But today is their memorial day."
Faced with her blunt correction, Jonathan accepted it without missing a beat.
"Is that so? Then I must have remembered it wrong."
Corrine looked away, unwilling to meet his carefully crafted expression of affection. She was afraid she might vomit if she did.
"Corrine," he said softly, "you don't seem very happy."
He slowly crouched down and lifted her into the wheelchair. As she fell into his arms, she caught a faint scent—the unmistakable smell of lubricant from the night before.
Suppressing the revulsion, she quietly shifted herself into the wheelchair.
"It's nothing," she said. "Aren't you supposed to go to the company for a meeting today?"
Jonathan sighed and crouched in front of her again, his gaze gentle and helpless.
"What meeting could be more important than my precious Corrine?"
"What's wrong?"
Corrine pressed her lips together, forcing down the words 'I saw you sleeping with Lesley.'
She forced a smile instead. "It's nothing, really. I just got upset reading a novel yesterday."
"In it, the male lead cheats on the female lead—with her enemy, no less."
"Don't you think someone like that deserves to die?"
The warmth on Jonathan's face stiffened for a split second.
"Yes," he said slowly. "That kind of man really does deserve to die."
"Corrine," he added with a chuckle, rubbing her head, "you're not thinking of me, are you?"
"Lesley has been dead for five years. I personally reduced her body to ashes. You saw it yourself."
Hearing that, Corrine lowered her gaze and smiled faintly.
"Yes. I saw it with my own eyes."
Just not her real corpse.
Clearly eager to end the conversation, Jonathan stood up.
"Since you're fine, I'll head to the company."
"...Wait." She took out a document and handed it to him. "I've recently taken a liking to a property. Help me sign this."
Jonathan didn't think much of it. He took the papers and signed casually.
"Remember," he said as he handed it back, "your legs aren't healed yet. When I'm not around, don't go up to the rooftop. Understand?"
After receiving Corrine's obedient reply, Jonathan hurried out, not sparing the document a second glance.
The smile on Corrine's face froze into ice the moment the door closed.
The next second, her phone lit up with a friend request from an unfamiliar account.
Once she accepted it, explicit selfies and private messages flooded in—half flaunting, half provoking.
Staring at that fact that she wished she could tear to pieces, Corrine soon found herself standing outside the rooftop room.
She hadn't expected Lesley to open the door herself.
"Oh?" Lesley smiled brightly. "Long time no see."
"Your legs are healed already? I thought you'd be stuck in that wheelchair for the rest of your life."
