Chapter 1

My childhood sweetheart, who promised to marry me, Julia Rivera, right after graduation, had proposed to the fake heiress, May Rivera, at my graduation ceremony.

Right after the successful proposal, the well-known Mr. Zen of the capital, Randell Gunther, publicly confessed his feelings for me.

In the five years that we were married, he'd always treated me with utmost gentleness and doted on me unceasingly.

That was, until I overheard his conversation with his good friend.

"Randell, May has already become famous. Are you still going to keep this act up with Julia?"

"It doesn't matter since I can't marry May anyway. Also, with me around, she won't be able to interfere with May's happiness."

All the written prayers that he treasured dearly bore May's name.

"I pray that May will be freed from obsessions and find peace in body and soul."

"I pray that May receives everything she wishes for and loves without worry."

"May, though we are not fated for this lifetime, I yearn that I'll be able to hold your hand all through the next."

And just like that, five years of foolish dreams were shattered in an instant.

I prepared a false identity and staged a drowning.

From then onwards, we would never meet again, whether in this life or the next.

…

After confirming the final details of my fake death, I hung up the phone.

In two more days, I would disappear permanently, just as they wished.

Right then, I caught a faint whiff of sandalwood, and I looked up instinctively. It was Randell.

He wrapped his arms around me and asked gently, "Who were you on the phone with?"

"It's nothing. Just the gallery," I answered with a smile, trying my best to make my voice sound natural.

He pressed a kiss on the top of my head and said softly, "Why are you so busy lately? I'll make something light for you tonight. Something that's easy on the stomach."

In our five years of marriage, Randell had always been gentle, caring, and incessantly doting.

Everyone had said that should Mr. Zen fall in love, it would definitely be for a lifetime.

I, too, had thought he would be my happiness.

But now, I have finally realized that this marriage wasn't about my happiness. It was his way of protecting May.

As Randell caressed my shoulder, he suddenly said, "By the way, the Riveras are throwing a celebratory banquet tomorrow. May's pregnant, and they're also celebrating her successful submission in an international art exhibition. You don't need to go. I'll deliver a present on your behalf, then come back to keep you company."

"That exhibition… I also—"

Before I could finish my sentence, he interrupted me, gently but firmly. "It's better if you don't participate in the exhibition. Aren't you always saying that you want a child? You can take this opportunity to stay home and rest."

I lowered my gaze, hiding the storm coursing through me.

Though we've been married for so many years, we had never once been pregnant. I once thought that our time hadn't come yet, but now, thinking back, it was likely just because he hadn't been willing.

I suspected he didn't want me participating in the competition because he didn't want me standing in May's way.

He pressed a kiss on my forehead, seemingly unaware that my heart had already plummeted into the abyss.

"It's your birthday the day after next. I've already prepared a surprise for you. May you always be well."

I muttered the words "May you always be well" to myself, suddenly finding them especially painful on the ears.

All these years, his well-wishes would always begin with the word "May", and only now did I realize the true meaning behind it.

As it turned out, these well-wishes of his were never meant for me.

"Alright. I've also prepared some events for my birthday. Make sure you keep your schedule free so you can spend time with me."

He nodded and then said, "Of course. Whatever you say, Jules."

I looked up and gave him a smile.

"Oh, Randell, how difficult this must be for you," I thought to myself with a scoff.

That night, I couldn't seem to fall asleep. I gently removed Randell's arm that was draped around me, and when doing so, I accidentally pulled off the rosary beads that he always wore.

When I picked the beads up, I felt that the surface was strangely uneven.

I took a closer look under the dim light. That was when I realized that each bead was engraved with the word "May".

In that very second, all hope in me died.

Chapter 2

The next morning, I said to Randell, "Let's go back to the Riveras together."

His expression stiffened for a second, but he quickly regained his composure.

"Alright. We'll just drop off our gift, then come home."

I knew he didn't want me to go. He didn't want me to disturb May.

However, I just wanted to go back home and take one last look at my family. After all, I was planning to leave tomorrow.

By the time we reached the Rivera residence, the place was already filled with guests congratulating May on her pregnancy, as well as her acceptance into the international art exhibition.

May was surrounded by a whole host of people. Everyone was complimenting her and saying that the painting she submitted would surely win the grand prize.

They also mentioned how the famous calligrapher, Evol May, personally inscribed something on the painting. They mused that it was truly a perfect pairing, unmatched in artistry.

When she saw me walk in, May's expression visibly stiffened for a second, but she quickly regained her composure.

There was a polite smile on her lips, but her tone was filled with mockery as she remarked, "You're here too, Julia? You must be very free these days."

I ignored her taunt as my eyes were focused on the painting on display. It looked so familiar that it pained me.

It was a painting I had stored away after I finished it years ago. It had never been displayed even once.

How did my painting end up here? How did it become her entry for the competition at the international art exhibition?

May looked at me with a faint smile before she suddenly leaned in, saying softly yet tauntingly, "Do you like this painting that much, Julia?"

I shot her a cold look, but just as I was about to say something, she suddenly cried out, "No!"

I didn't even have a chance to react before she stumbled backward, clutching her belly and looking pained.

The surrounding guests immediately erupted into a frenzy.

"What happened?"

"May's pregnant! How can someone bump into her?"

"Quick, get the doctor!"

Amidst the commotion, I heard a panicked voice yell, "May!"

Others might not be able to recognize the voice, but I could, instantly.

It was Randell's voice.

There was no hiding the care and tenderness in his eyes, and they pierced through the last shred of hope I had been holding onto.

When he saw me looking at him, Randell quickly calmed himself down.

He turned to me, and his tone was gentle but still tinged with hints of blame as he said, "No matter what, May is pregnant right now. You shouldn't have pushed her."

Right then, news arrived that the painting had entered the finals, and there was a very good chance it would win the grand prize.

A flash of undeniable joy crossed his face. That was an expression I had never seen in the past five years.

I asked him in a low voice, "Why is May's painting exactly like mine?"

He stiffened for a second before returning to normal.

"It might be a coincidence. Maybe her art style is just similar to yours," he said, pretending to be oblivious.

I scoffed, not saying anything more.

I had locked that painting in my private gallery, and only a few people had access to the key.

That, combined with the inscription on the painting, told me everything I needed to know.

He might have used an alias, but the inscription was written in the exact same calligraphy style as the one Randell had used for his written prayers.

It was obvious how the painting had gotten here and who had been behind it.

I had intended for this painting to be a present for him for our five-year wedding anniversary.

But now that I thought about it, since our marriage itself was a sham, the painting was pretty much meaningless now, too.

I let out a laugh so light, it was probably hard to discern my mood.

Randell seemingly sensed that something was off about me, and his expression stiffened.

He then suggested, "How about we leave now? Let's go somewhere where we can relax."

I looked up at him, and my lips curled up into a faint smile.

"Let's take a yacht out for a night cruise. We can even catch the sunrise tomorrow."

Chapter 3

When we got into the car, Randell started talking to me about his plans for the next day.

"I've already prepared a birthday surprise for you. And once this busy period is over, we can start planning for a baby, okay?"

I only listened quietly without responding as I continued to stare out the window.

He had only just turned the car on when his phone rang.

He answered it, and his voice was laced with hesitation as his brows furrowed ever so slightly.

I turned to look at him and said calmly, "Go ahead if you need to leave."

He hesitated for a moment as he said, "Jules, I…"

"It's okay. I'll wait for you at the yacht."

I didn't get a good look at the caller ID, but I knew that only one person could make him form such an expression.

As I boarded the yacht by myself, I took out my phone and looked at May's social media.

I found a newly posted photo with the caption, "It's nice to have someone keep me company just as I find success. Thank you for bringing me a late-night snack and coming all the way here just so I have someone to talk to. Thank you for always taking care of me."

The comments below were all lauding her.

"Your husband is so good to you!"

"This is the true example of a devoted husband!"

However, my attention was drawn to the hand in the photo. I was very familiar with the rosary beads on that wrist. They belonged to Randell.

I called his number, but it was May who answered.

"Why are you calling so late, Julia? You're not looking for Randell, are you?" May asked, her voice thick with mockery.

"Just give up. He's not going back tonight. Who asked you to fail to keep your man interested, dear sister? I've already handed him to you, and yet you still couldn't hold onto him."

I hung up the phone abruptly, then turned to the yacht's crew and said, "Set sail."

"We're not waiting for the others?"

"No. It's just me," I answered softly.

The yacht slowly took off, cutting through the waters bathed in the night as it set sail for the deep seas.

I stood by myself at the bow, staring at the stars above. The sea breeze was cold and biting, and starlight shimmered across the waters.

Randell didn't appear at all that night.

As I leaned against the railings on the deck, I stared at the sea blankly. Memories from the past five years flashed through my mind. His gentleness, his companionship, his promises… All of these memories were like shards of glass slashing across my heart. And in the end, when pieced together, those shards formed nothing but a broken picture.

All the illusions and hypocrisy seemed ironic and laughable now.

Just before sunrise, I gave him one last call. This time, the phone was turned off.

I stared at the screen as I set a phone recording and the video evidence of me creating that painting to be uploaded automatically at a certain time.

After finishing all that, I took one last look at the faint light that was slowly rising on the horizon.

Then, I flung myself overboard and dove into the icy waters.

Meanwhile, Randell was hastily leaving while telling May, "I need to go. It's her birthday tomorrow, and I promised I'd watch the sunrise with her."

May tried to stop him, clearly upset. "Randy, I need you right now too…"

Randell shook his head. "No, not today."

Right then, his assistant, Evan Smithers, finally located him. "Mr. Gunther! Your wife… she jumped down from the yacht!"