"Lucas… My stomach hurts…" whimpered Cecelia. She suddenly bent over with a whimper, and her face turned pale.
Lucas's expression instantly changed. He ignored Gia and rushed back to Cecelia. He held her anxiously and asked, "What's wrong? Where does it hurt?"
His voice trembled with worry, and his hands were shaking.
The sight felt like a sharp knife stabbing into her heart. Gia once believed this heartfelt concern of his was reserved only for herself.
She had been naive. She was never the only one.
"I'll take you to the hospital," he said. Without giving Gia a second glance, Lucas swept Cecelia up into his arms and carried her out.
Gia let out a bitter laugh when the door closed. "I've been delusional all this time…" she murmured.
She wondered why she had turned a blind eye in her past life.
Three hours later, Lucas returned with Cecelia still in his arms. The moment they stepped into the living room, he spoke firmly, "She needs to rest for a few days. It's settled–she'll stay here."
Gia paused for only a moment before replying calmly, "Alright."
Her voice and expression were apathetic.
He seemed surprised she agreed so easily. His face softened after a brief look of disbelief. He said, "Cecelia's been through a lot, and she's pregnant now. She has nowhere else to go. I know you've always been kind–"
"Pick any room you want. I'm heading back to mine," interrupted Gia. She turned before he could finish and walked away without hesitation.
She did not want to listen to his guilt-tripping. It sounded like praises, but they were accusations of her being immature and unkind.
That night, Gia took the divorce papers she had prepared and knocked on the door of his study.
He sat deeply focused in front of his laptop and had a few books in front of him. One glance was all it took for Gia to see that the books were pregnancy nutrition guides.
Her fingers trembled slightly.
"What is it?" he asked without looking up.
She bit her lip and handed over the documents. She demanded, "Sign it. It's for the company's filing, and it needs the signature of a family member."
Lucas barely glanced at it before signing, then he stood up quickly. He said, "Done. I need to make dinner for Cecelia. Her diet needs special care, so from now on, I'll cook for her myself."
Gia looked at the papers and asked quietly, "When did you learn to cook?"
Lucas had never lifted a finger at home in her past life. Obsessed with his research and busy at the lab, she had always felt sorry for him and cooked every meal herself.
Lucas hesitated and replied, "I recently learned… Cecelia's in a special stage in life, and as her friend, I should take care of her."
"Is that so?" asked Gia. She did not look at him, but her voice was soft like a whisper as she said, "We've been married for three years, and you've never cooked for me."
Yes. He had never cooked for her.
She believed his career came first back then and never asked for more. However, the comparison was glaring. He simply had not wanted to make an effort for her.
Lucas froze, and he was about to say something, but Gia walked away with the papers.
A faint aroma drifted through the air. She stood by the window in her room unmovingly.
She carefully put away the divorce papers.
She only needed to wait. Once the asset transfers were complete and the mandatory waiting period passed, she could leave for good.
The silk tree they had planted together outside on their wedding day had grown thick and lush.
She remembered a long time ago when Lucas knelt beneath it and held up a ring, his eyes full of devotion.
"Gia, I want to spend a lifetime with you, and even in death, I will never betray you," he had promised.
Her phone vibrated. It was a message from her lawyer.
[Ms. Rowan, eighty percent of the assets have been transferred. The rest will be handled before the divorce process begins.]
[Gia: Okay.] She then deleted the conversation.
She slipped the wedding ring off her finger and placed it in the bottom drawer of her vanity.
She heard the sound of laughter and cheerful voices coming from outside. She closed her eyes, caught between the weight of her past life and the sting of the present, until a single tear slipped free.
Some mistakes, she thought, were only worth making once in a lifetime.
