Alicia’s POV

I had just finished showering and stepped out of the bathroom when I heard a knock on the door.

I opened it, still drying my damp hair, and found Alexander standing there.

"Something?" I asked quietly.

"Divorce Settlement Agreement. I’d like to discuss it with you again. Please come to the study."

"Okay."

I set the towel aside and followed him out, closing the door softly behind me. We walked to the study in silence.

Alexander pulled up the original electronic version of the Divorce Settlement Agreement, added a few new clauses, then stepped aside. "Take a look at the new additions."

Leaning over the desk, I rested my hand against it and carefully read the highlighted sections.

The first added clause stated that even after the divorce decree was finalized, we would continue living in the same villa. I would help him conceal the truth from our family, and when necessary, we would still pretend to be a married couple—especially during visits to Nana—until she eventually found out.

The second clause stated that neither of us was allowed to discuss our marriage or divorce with outsiders.

The third clause prohibited either of us from bringing someone of the opposite sex to stay overnight at the estate.

There was also a revision to the property division. Originally, I was to receive ten percent of the company shares, two villas, a penthouse, and thirty million dollars. Now, it had been increased to fifty million dollars, along with the same properties and shares.

After reviewing everything, I looked up. "I have an issue with the first clause. It says we have to live together until our family finds out about the divorce. But what if they never do? Does that mean we’ll live like this indefinitely? And if you can’t publicly be with Lilian, then what’s the point of getting divorced at all?"

"We can add a time limit," Alexander suggested.

I thought for a moment. "Two months. Within two months after the divorce, Nana must know. After that, we go our separate ways."

If it dragged on any longer, my pregnancy would become obvious, and the truth would come out anyway.

A shadow flickered across his face. "Alright."

I then pointed at the property section. "The original terms are fine. There’s no need to increase anything."

"I made a promise to you, and I broke it," he said firmly. "Let me make up for it this way."

I didn’t argue further. I just wanted to finalize everything as soon as possible.

After confirming the details, Alexander printed two copies of the agreement.

We each signed one.

"Done," I said flatly, writing my name without hesitation. "If there’s nothing else, I’ll go back to my room. Don’t forget to pick up the divorce decree tomorrow."

"Mm," he replied quietly.

I took my copy and returned to my room. The moment I closed the door, I leaned against it, a wave of weakness washing over me. Slowly, I sank to the floor.

My fingers trembled as I pressed them against my chest, the ache almost suffocating.

I had loved him for six years. How could I possibly stop so easily? Even after everything.

It was real now.

The divorce was final. We were truly going our separate ways.

Two years of marriage—not long, yet not short—but always lacking something.

Perhaps it was better to end things now, while there were still a few good memories left... rather than dragging it out until all that remained was bitterness and regret.

Sleep wouldn’t come.

I tossed and turned, my mind replaying every moment from the past two years.

His tenderness, his intelligence, his thoughtfulness, his rare moments of romance, his passion... even his indifference. Every detail felt vivid, as though it had only happened yesterday.

I still remembered our first night after the wedding.

The ceremony itself had been simple—just a quiet meal with a few members of the Blackwood family before we went to register our marriage.

And just like that, I became Alexander’s wife.

No one knew how happy I had been in that moment.

I had married the man I loved—the one I had loved for so many years.

He was brilliant, always far beyond my reach, someone I could only admire from afar.

At first, we were like strangers living under the same roof.

Then one day, I came home from work earlier than usual. I had dinner alone and went to bed.

Sometime later, in my half-asleep state, I felt a strong arm wrap around my waist, pulling me close beneath him.

I had been nervous—it was my first time—but he was gentle, patient.

That night remained in my memory only in fragments—soft, vivid, and filled with quiet intensity.

After that night, things gradually began to change. We spoke more often, and although he still kept a certain distance, I found myself content with what little I had.

Even then, I remained cautious, always afraid that one day he might grow tired of me.

But Alexander was patient—more than I had expected. In his own way, he guided me, showing me how to exist in his world, how to be with him. Slowly, we grew closer, and our life together became... softer, sweeter.

To me, those days were filled with quiet happiness.

Looking back now, I realize that perhaps, in his own subtle way, he had expressed something—feelings I was too blinded by love to truly understand.

After our marriage, he started taking me to the hospital regularly for contraceptive implants.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it.

A year into our marriage, I believed everything had finally fallen into place.

One night, after we had been intimate, I lay in his arms and softly said, "Alexander, let’s have a child."

His body stiffened almost instantly.

"It’s not the right time," he said, his tone turning distant.

I didn’t understand. "Then when will it be the right time?"

"We’ll talk about it later. Be good," he replied, gently patting my head before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

Back then, I didn’t question it.

But now... I understand.

He had never intended to have a child with me.

The only woman he ever envisioned a future like that with... was Lilian Summer.

If I had looked closely into his eyes that night, I would have seen it clearly—the coldness, the absence of warmth, the truth I refused to face.

Two years passed just like that—quiet, distant, like a silent film with only one audience.

Me.

No matter how hard I tried, I could never reach his heart.

Because the truth was... his heart had never once belonged to me.

In the end, all I could do was smile...

...and let him go.

The past slowly faded away, dissolving like a dream I could no longer hold onto.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

‎I jolted awake, only then realizing I had fallen asleep without noticing.

‎I glanced at the glowing screen—it was just after 3 AM.

‎Raphael was calling.

‎Still groggy, I answered, "Hello, Raphael?" 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

‎"It’s me. You need to come pick up Alexander."

‎"Alexander? Isn’t he at home?"

‎"He ran out at 1 AM to drink with me," Raphael said irritably. "Who knows what’s going on with him?"

‎I hesitated. "Can’t you just bring him here?"

‎"He won’t leave. I’ve tried, but he insists on staying and drinking."

‎I looked out the window. The night was pitch black, and whatever emotions lingered from my dream seemed to vanish into the darkness.

‎This troublemaker.

‎What’s the point of going out in the middle of the night to drink? Can’t he just drink at home?

‎With no other choice, I got dressed, grabbed my keys, and drove to the address Raphael had given me. The route was familiar, and soon I arrived at the private room and pushed the door open.

‎Inside, Raphael and Alexander were on the couch.

‎Raphael lounged against the backrest, a cigarette between his fingers. Alexander leaned back with his eyes closed, a half-empty glass of wine in his hand, his expression calm.

‎At the sound of the door, Alexander slowly opened his eyes—only to shut them again.

‎Several empty bottles were scattered across the floor.

‎Frowning, I quietly asked, "Did he drink all of these?"

‎Raphael nodded seriously. "Yeah. All of them."

‎I looked at Alexander and called softly, "Alexander."

‎Walking over, I gently took the glass from his hand and placed it on the table.

‎He opened his eyes and looked straight at me, his gaze deep and unwavering. A shiver ran through me—I couldn’t tell if he was drunk or sober.