Chapter 4 of Too Late to Hold Her, Too Late to Love Her

I pushed open the wardrobe door, greeted by a neat row of long, conservative dresses.

Shoving them aside, I reached for an unopened pink gift box hidden at the back, a birthday present I had bought for myself on my thirtieth birthday. Inside lay a strapless, blush-pink ball gown with a low waistline, untouched, waiting.

Hugo never liked me wearing revealing clothes. To please him, I had filled my closet with outfits that suffocated me, while the ones I truly loved remained buried at the bottom, forgotten.

The thought alone made my chest tighten.

Tonight, I wasn’t dressing for him.

I slipped into the gown and added a touch of light makeup. The elegant cut accentuated my slender waist, the soft fabric cascading down my frame. My long, fair legs stood out against the delicate hue of the dress.

As I descended the stairs, Hugo’s gaze froze.

"Why are you dressed like that?" His voice was sharp, edged with something he couldn’t quite name.

Ava’s eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion as she studied me, her lips twitching as if suppressing a reaction.

Jasper, however, frowned impatiently. "It’s already late. Why haven’t you made dinner yet? I’m starving."

I met his gaze without a trace of emotion, my voice steady.

"I'm not eating at home tonight. You don’t have to wait for me."

The air in the room shifted. Hugo and Jasper stiffened at my words.

Jasper’s face darkened. "If you don’t cook, what are we supposed to eat?"

Ava let out a light chuckle, her voice dripping with amusement. "Audrey dressed up so beautifully; she must be meeting someone special. We shouldn’t disturb them. As for dinner, I can cook. After all, someone like me doesn’t have anyone to ask me out anyway."

She deliberately emphasized the word "date," her tone soaked in suggestion. As expected, Hugo’s expression darkened instantly.

"It’s late. Dressed like that, who are you going to see?"

I met his gaze, utterly indifferent. "No one. If you don’t believe me, feel free to follow."

With that, I turned and walked out. Behind me, the sharp slam of a cup against the table echoed through the room, but I didn’t so much as flinch.

For once, the evening was mine.

I decided to go shopping.

In the past, whenever I shopped for clothes, I would head straight to the men’s section, first for my husband and then for my son. By the time I was done, the day had already slipped away.

Sometimes, I would spot a dress I liked, but I never had the luxury to stop. There was always something more pressing, always a reason to hurry home and cook for them.

But tonight, they weren’t here.

Tonight, my time belonged to me.

I wandered through the stores, my fingers grazing delicate fabrics, my eyes lingering on dresses I would have once dismissed without a second thought.

I hesitated. It felt unnecessary.

I was leaving soon; I couldn’t take them with me. Buying them only to wear them for a few days felt meaningless.

As I mulled over the thought, I idly scrolled through my phone. A new post caught my eye.

Ava’s latest update.

[Yay! Such a loving little family!]

The picture showed her sitting beside Hugo and Jasper at the dinner table, a warm, intimate glow cast over the elaborate spread before them. Red wine. Scattered rose petals. The perfect scene of a happy home.

Anyone who didn’t know better would think she was the mistress of the house.

Then, my gaze landed on the bottle of red wine.

I knew that bottle.

Hugo had bought it for our wedding. He once told me he’d save it for our golden anniversary.

Yet today, he had opened it early for another woman.

How ironic.

The home I had painstakingly built had become someone else’s prize, a reward for a love I was never a part of.

But I no longer cared.

I would be gone soon. There would be no golden anniversary, no future where I clung to something that was never truly mine.

Smirking, I tapped the like button on the post before turning my attention back to my purchase.

Seven dresses in total, each one chosen purely for myself.

I wasn’t buying them out of spite. No, this was something else.