After Her Fake Death, His Regret Turned Into Redemption

"Dr. Pierce, I’ve made my choice; I choose euthanasia!"

Dione Crestmont's voice trembled as she spoke into the phone, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

Just five minutes earlier, a message had shattered her fragile world. Cedric Rutherford's female apprentice had sent her a text. [We slept together last night, and he didn’t use protection.]

Attached was a damning photo of Cedric, shirtless, with hickeys starkly visible on his neck.

Her thoughts drifted to a time when her condition had stabilized, and Dr. Pierce had reassured her that her illness wouldn’t prevent her from having children. Hopeful and naïve, she had asked Cedric if he wanted a child.

At the time, Cedric had gently stroked her hair and said with a soft chuckle, "No. A child would steal some of your love from me, and I’d get jealous. Besides, I couldn’t bear to see you endure the pain of childbirth."

For ten long years of marriage, they had always used protection. But now, he had slept with a woman he had known for less than six months, throwing caution to the wind as if her trust had meant nothing.

In the end, her faith in him had been a cruel mistake.

On the other end of the call, Dr. Pierce heaved a weary sigh. "Just hold on a little longer. A suitable kidney donor might turn up. You’re only thirty… there’s still hope."

Dione’s heart clenched. She had been battling lupus for years, but it was a year ago when her test results confirmed the worst: kidney failure. Without a donor, her body felt like a rose withering under the scorching sun.

"I’ve made up my mind. Please make the arrangements," Dione’s voice was hoarse, yet each word carried unyielding resolve.

Dr. Pierce let out another sigh, one heavy with resignation. "Alright, I’ll take care of it."

Half an hour later, his message arrived. The euthanasia was scheduled for the fifth of the following month, the same day that marked her tenth wedding anniversary with Cedric.

Twentyseven days remained.

——

After replying, Dione took a deep, trembling breath, her gaze lost in the expanse beyond the floortoceiling window.

Ten years ago, she had followed Cedric to Cedar Ridge, dreaming of a brighter future as an apprentice under a master sculptor. In their darkest days, they had slept in a park, surviving on a single pack of instant noodles. She had taken up a job as a dishwasher, scraping together enough to support them. At the same time, Cedric poured all his energy into sculpting under his mentor’s guidance.

Her sacrifices hadn’t been in vain. In just two years, Cedric had mastered his craft, earning international acclaim with a prestigious sculpting award.

With his exceptional talent and striking charm, Cedric soon caught the eye of a media company. They polished his image, and his fame soared to dazzling heights. By their fifth year in Cedar Ridge, he had paid off their first home, a spacious flat, and had it registered under Dione’s name.

At the time, guilt had weighed heavily on him. Holding her close, Cedric had wept in her arms, his voice trembling.

"Dione, you worked tirelessly as a dishwasher just to support my dream. It broke my heart. I swear I’ll never let you down for as long as I live."

The sound of the door creaking open jolted Dione back to the present. Cedric had returned.

Dressed sharply in a black suit, he stood at the entrance, swapping his shoes while his eyes remained glued to his phone. The faint glow illuminated his chiseled features as his fingers moved swiftly across the screen.

"Cedric, let’s get a divorce," Dione said, her tone so detached it sounded as if she were merely asking him about dinner.

Cedric froze, his movements halting midstep. Slowly, he slipped his phone into his pocket, his brows furrowing slightly. Without a word, he strode toward her with an air of composed deliberation.

As if nothing had transpired, Cedric wrapped his arms around her, his deep, velvety voice brushing against her ear.

"Are you upset with me, wife?"

He let out a low chuckle, his tone casual. "Last night, I was out drinking with Laurent Lancaster, the head of Lancaster Group. He’s planning to build an amusement park and handed me all the sculpture work. It’s a huge opportunity."

Liar.

He lied so effortlessly now, without so much as a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

Dione didn’t confront him. Instead, she furrowed her brow, her expression unreadable.

The cloying scent of perfume clung to Cedric’s suit, a fragrance she recognized instantly. The saleswoman had called it "After Affair Perfume," describing it as alluring, almost scandalous. Back then, she’d dismissed it as too provocative, too bold for someone like her.

But what struck her most was that Cedric, with his rhinitis, couldn’t tolerate strong scents. For years, she had chosen perfumes with barelythere aromas just for his comfort.

Her gaze lingered on the red marks adorning Cedric’s neck, and she asked deliberately, her voice calm but pointed, "What happened to your neck?"

Cedric froze for a moment before quickly releasing her and striding toward the mirror. His hand instinctively moved to rub the marks as his brows furrowed. "Probably mosquito bites."

"Really?" Dione’s lips curved into a faint smile, though her eyes remained sharp. "Are you sure it wasn’t some woman leaving her mark?"

Her gaze bore into his reflection, searching for any flicker of guilt.

Cedric turned, his expression softening into a helpless smile as he pulled her into his arms again. His voice, smooth and warm, brushed against her ear. "If anyone were to kiss my neck, it’d only be you. No one else is allowed."

He tapped her nose lightly, his smile faltering just enough to show a hint of frustration. "Stop overthinking. You’re the only one I love."

Before she could reply, his phone buzzed insistently from his pocket, the vibrations breaking the moment. His unease was palpable as he turned toward the bedroom, muttering something about needing a shower.

As Cedric showered, bursts of laughter echoed intermittently from the bathroom, a sound that grated against Dione’s already strained nerves. Seated on the bed, she sifted through her collection of jewelry and branded handbags, her movements deliberate and detached.

Forty minutes passed before Cedric finally emerged, steam trailing behind him like a lingering shadow. His eyes landed on the array of handbags sprawled across the bed, one brow lifting in mild amusement. "Having trouble deciding which one to take? Need your husband’s impeccable fashion advice?"

Dione, her focus unwavering as she snapped photos to send to a luxury consignment store, replied flatly, "I’m heading out, but these bags don’t feel like me anymore. I’m thinking of selling them."

Her voice was calm, almost too calm, as if she were discussing a trivial errand. Yet, in her heart, she knew she was preparing for a journey far beyond his reach, one from which there would be no return.

"That’s a good idea," Cedric said warmly, stepping closer. His tone dripped with affection as his hand reached for her cheek. "This way, I can spoil you with some of the newest designs."

But even as he spoke, his other hand held his phone tightly behind his back, its screen lighting up with an unspoken secret.

Dione leaned away, her body instinctively recoiling from his touch. Without sparing him a glance, she continued snapping photos, her silence sharper than any rebuke.

Cedric’s phone buzzed incessantly, the vibrations cutting through the stillness of the room like a restless hum.

“Cedric, if you’re busy, just go. Someone from the consignment store is coming later. It wouldn’t be good if they recognized you.” She knew his mind had wandered far from this room and simply offered him an easy out.

“Really? Well, Laurent wants to go over a few more details, so I’ll head out.” He quickly changed into a fresh set of clothes, the familiar scent of cologne trailing behind him as he left in haste.

Left alone, Dione turned her attention back to her task, her fingers tracing the edges of her handbags. The value of the jewelry and designer bags sprawled before her amounted to a staggering 30 million.

Over the years, Cedric never let a holiday or milestone slip by without lavishing her with gifts, always proclaiming he wanted her to have the best of everything. And he had delivered. Beyond the spacious apartment they called home, four or five other properties bore her name.

Cedric was no longer the man who once struggled to afford instant noodles. Now, he was a name people recognized, a millionaire with a sterling reputation in Cedar Ridge.

With fame came a flurry of events and admirers, many of whom were glamorous female celebrities from the entertainment world. Yet Cedric always brushed them aside, dismissing them as cunning women looking for a way to climb the social ladder.

Then there was Ophelia Morgan, the female apprentice who appeared six months ago. She came into the picture when Cedric was under pressure to finish a sculpture for a company’s anniversary celebration, so he hired extra help. Ophelia, who had been drifting through Cedar Ridge, taking on odd jobs to get by, was one of them.

By the time her stint with him ended, Ophelia had stripped bare and begged him to take her in.

Cedric had kicked her out without a second thought and later chuckled about the incident with Dione, recounting it like an amusing anecdote.

Half a month later, Dione walked into Cedric's studio, only to be confronted with an unexpected sight: there was Ophelia, still there. Not only had she managed to stay, but Cedric had even sorted out her passport issues.

Dione, her heart heavy with the weight of betrayal, couldn’t hold back. "What’s going on here?" she asked, her voice tight and disbelieving.

Cedric stepped in front of Ophelia, his posture protective. His gaze softened as he explained, "She’s in a tough spot, just trying to make a living, much like we did when we first arrived in Cedar Ridge…"

"I took her in because she reminded me of our own struggles back then."

Back then, Dione had been sure of herself. Even the most glamorous movie stars couldn’t seem to catch Cedric’s eye, so she never gave a second thought to the idea that an averagelooking girl with no standout features could win his attention.

So, she let it go.

But then, Dione’s health began to decline. She needed chemotherapy, and to keep Cedric from worrying, she fabricated a story about going abroad for a trip. Yet when she returned, fresh from her treatment, everything felt different.

It was right after her first round of chemotherapy. Her complexion was pale, the effects of the treatment evident, and she feared Cedric might notice and grow concerned. So, she headed to a beauty salon for some treatment. The beautician, in an attempt to lighten the mood, teasingly asked her how she could stand Cedric taking on a female apprentice.

It wasn’t until then that Dione learned Cedric had been attending one highprofile event after another with Ophelia, proudly introducing her as his beloved apprentice to anyone who would listen. She was the last to know.

Cedar Ridge’s media, always quick to stir the pot, seized the opportunity with exaggerated headlines. By the time Dione had gathered the courage to confront him, Cedric had already instructed her to handle the media.

For the sake of Cedric’s reputation, Dione accepted his new apprentice, putting on a gracious front for the cameras.

Watching Cedric go to great lengths to protect Ophelia, Dione’s heart broke. All the questions she had, the ones she couldn’t voice, were swallowed by the pain. As time passed, the resentment festered, becoming a wound that never healed.

Dione transferred a large sum to Dr. Pierce for the euthanasia arrangements and also donated generously to a lupus research foundation.

Her bank card was linked to Cedric’s, so he received notifications of these transactions. After a quick glance, he tossed his phone aside, assuming Dione was simply splurging on another new handbag.

Ophelia’s teeth ground together as she watched, her gaze burning with resentment. To her, the money Dione spent so freely seemed like a wound, a piece of flesh she would eventually claim for herself.

Dione hadn’t expected Ophelia to show up at her doorstep, and certainly not with such audacity. She was flipping through old photos when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was the takeout she had ordered, she opened the door only to find Ophelia standing there, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Dione, long time no see. Why do you look so pale? Could it be menopause?” Ophelia sneered, her smile sickly sweet.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Dione slapped her hard across the face.

“You’ve got some nerve! A dog like you dares to bark at my door?”

Though Dione’s health had taken a toll, she still made sure to keep fit when she could, and the slap was delivered with force, a clear sign of her strength.

“But Cedric likes this dog of his,” Ophelia smirked, her voice dripping with malicious amusement as she played a recording from her phone.

First came Ophelia's coy voice. “Cedric, I’m going to drain you dry so you won’t touch her when you go home.”

Then came Cedric's unsatisfied voice. “I haven’t touched her in half a year. She’s too skinny. Hugging her is like hugging a dried corpse…”

Hearing Cedric say those words was like a slap to Dione’s face. She stood frozen, unable to comprehend what she was hearing.

Her lupus had been hereditary, something Cedric had known from the moment they met. He had researched the condition and had been careful with her, reminding her every day to take her medication. And yet, here he was, speaking like that.

He had said it countless times, how sorry he felt for her, tormented by the illness, wishing he could offer her his own flesh to ease her pain. Yet now, to hear him say holding her was like clutching a dried corpse felt like a knife in her heart.

Ten years of marriage, how had their love soured so dramatically?

Then Ophelia handed over Cedric’s wedding ring, her gaze flaunting as she watched Dione’s reaction.

“Cedric never wears this when he’s with me,” Ophelia said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “He says it’s bad luck. But you seem to like it, so I brought it back for you.”

The ring had been bought with Cedric’s first earnings. He had rented the grandest LED screen at Emerald Harbor, displaying her name in lights, and had set off a breathtaking fireworks show to make up for their missed proposal.

Even though Cedric later earned a fortune, the ring held a meaning that couldn’t be matched. For both of them, it was irreplaceable. He wouldn’t even consider resizing it, let alone replacing it. He wore it constantly, never taking it off, not while bathing, not even while sleeping.

“Dione,” Ophelia began with a sly smirk, “Master said you don’t own a single lacetrimmed piece of lingerie. I didn’t think you’d be so… oldfashioned.”

She unbuttoned her top deliberately, exposing faint marks on her skin and the delicate lace peeking underneath.

“Do you know how thrilled Master was when he saw me in this? These marks? They’re all his doing. You can’t even imagine that when he’s with me, he’s like a ravenous wolf.”

Her words were venomous, each one a poisoned dagger plunging deep into Dione’s heart. Her hands balled into fists, her entire body trembling as waves of pain and anger surged through her.

Unable to restrain her fury, Dione struck out, her fists and slaps raining down mercilessly on Ophelia. The younger woman was left battered and crying for mercy. If the neighbors hadn’t rushed over after hearing the chaos, Dione might have beaten her to death.

Ophelia hadn’t expected the fraillooking Dione to possess such strength, but the outcome suited her plans perfectly. Covered in bruises, she went straight to Cedric, her face twisted in pitiful complaint.

After Ophelia left, Dione’s rage turned inward, erupting into a storm of destruction. She smashed everything within reach, leaving the house in shambles. She was in the middle of cutting up their wedding photos when Cedric returned.

He opened the door to chaos, shattered glass and broken fragments scattered across the floor like remnants of a hurricane. In the center of it all stood Dione, scissors in hand, blood dripping from her fingers onto the gleaming blade. Her disheveled hair framed her wild, unhinged expression.

Cedric panicked as his eyes darted across the wreckage. Stepping carefully over the shards, he approached her, his tone soft yet desperate. "Dione, did you misunderstand something? I accidentally left my ring at the studio, and Ophelia brought it over because she thought I’d be worried."

“She’s just a kindhearted girl.”

Dione let out a bitter laugh, her voice dripping with mockery. “Kindhearted? How? By being generous enough to care for someone else’s husband?”

Cedric stiffened, momentarily caught off guard, before moving closer. Gently, he reached for the scissors in her hand, his voice laced with forced calm. “I only see her as a disciple. Don’t overthink it.”

“A beloved disciple who’s opened your eyes to a new world, isn’t that right?” Dione’s words sliced sharper than any blade. “Cedric, let’s get a divorce.”

Panic flashed across his face as he immediately wrapped his arms around her, holding her as if afraid she might vanish. “No. I won’t divorce you. Not in this lifetime.”

“I swear, I’ll only ever love you.”

His words flowed like a stream of empty promises, each one finding a way to shield Ophelia. Dione, too drained to argue over whatever twisted narrative Ophelia had spun, pushed him away with visible disgust before collapsing onto the couch. Her voice was hollow, devoid of emotion.

“Fine. No divorce.”

She no longer cared. What difference did it make? Her time was slipping away. Once she chose euthanasia, Cedric would be free, widowed, not divorced, and unburdened to remarry.

Cedric called the family doctor to tend to Dione’s wounds while he quietly set about cleaning the chaos she had left in her wake. She watched him with hollow eyes, unable to reconcile how the man who once adored her with such intensity could now feel like a stranger.

Ophelia’s cruel words echoed in her mind, a relentless torment that sent tremors through her body. Her hands shook uncontrollably as her breathing quickened.

Noticing her distress, Cedric paused midcleanup and hurried to retrieve her medication. “Did you forget to take your pills?”

Dione’s fury surged. She slapped the bottle from his hand, the sound sharp and echoing in the tense silence. Her venomous glare pierced through him as she spat, “Cedric, you disgust me.”

Cedric stood frozen, a helpless expression clouding his face. Assuming her anger stemmed from the ring, he tried to soothe her with a forced lightness.

“I’m sorry, my dear wife. Next time I lose my ring, you can cut off my hand, okay?”

Dione didn’t bother wasting another word. She cast a cold, detached glance at Cedric before stepping into the bedroom and locking the door behind her.

Outside, Cedric’s gentle knocks broke the silence. His voice carried a soft plea tinged with guilt.

“Dione, if you’re upset, talk to me, okay? Don’t keep it all inside.”

“It’s my fault. I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to spend with you properly.”

After a brief pause, he added, “How about this? The day after tomorrow, I’ll take you back to your hometown. You’ve been wanting to visit for so long.”

Hometown…

The word struck a chord in Dione, stirring memories she had buried deep. Yes, before leaving this world, she should return one last time. Her voice was calm and devoid of emotion as she replied, “Okay.”

For the next two days, Cedric stayed home with her, but his presence felt hollow. He was constantly glued to his phone, replying to messages or stepping out onto the balcony for calls, his mind clearly elsewhere.

On the morning of their departure, Dione woke to an empty bed. She searched the house, but Cedric was nowhere to be found.

Just as she reached for her phone to call him, a message from Ophelia arrived.

The image attached stole the breath from her lungs. Cedric lay asleep in Ophelia’s arms, his hand draped around her neck like a treasured ornament.

It was a sight that stabbed at Dione’s memories. Once upon a time, he had held her the same way, entwining their bodies in sleep as though she were his lifeline. But everything had changed when her illness worsened. Cedric worried about her fragile state, had begun sleeping at a careful distance, leaving a hollow space where his warmth used to be.

Before Dione could process the betrayal in the photo, another message came through: screenshots of their chats, dozens of them.

Piece by piece, the truth unfolded before her eyes. Each exchange painted a clearer picture of how Cedric had fallen into Ophelia’s web.

One particular message replayed in her mind like a haunting refrain. [Brother Cedric, please let me stay. I’m willing to do anything…]

The words were followed by a string of pitiful emojis, calculated to tug at his heartstrings.

At first, Cedric hadn’t replied. But Ophelia persisted, sending a heartfelt plea that spilled the misery of her past and the struggles she had faced since arriving in Cedar Ridge.

When no response came, Ophelia resorted to drastic measures. She sent Cedric a selfie taken in front of a mirror. In the photo, her body was bare, with only her hands modestly covering what was necessary. Her wide, innocent eyes gazed at the camera, dripping with a calculated mix of vulnerability and desperation.

[Brother Cedric, I’m still a virgin. Help me, and I’ll give myself to you…]

The silence didn’t last long. Cedric finally replied, his tone sharp yet wavering.

[Delete this right now. A girl should have selfrespect!]

Ophelia’s response was swift, a crying emoji followed by a plea. She claimed she was at her wit’s end and didn’t know what else to do. If Cedric wouldn’t help her, she’d have no choice but to sell herself that very night. To seal her act, she attached a location pin.

The address? Cedar Ridge’s notorious redlight district.

Cedric, unable to ignore the urgency in her words, urged her not to make any rash decisions. Moments later, he left to find her, following the location she had sent.

From that moment on, their conversations grew more frequent, each one tinged with an intimacy that bordered on the forbidden.

Ophelia often peppered her messages with flirty emojis, kisses, hugs, and hearts. And Cedric, caught in her web, began responding with indulgent amusement, his restraint slowly eroding.

Judging by the timestamps, Dione realized that many times when Cedric claimed to be meeting clients, he was, in fact, with Ophelia.

As she read through the explicit chat logs, it felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding relentlessly against her chest. Each revelation stole the air from her lungs, leaving her gasping in agony.

Hot tears streamed unchecked down her cheeks, splashing onto the glowing screen of her phone, blurring the damning words she could never unsee.

She didn’t bother reaching out to Cedric again. With her heart shattered beyond repair, she packed her things and booked a flight to her hometown, choosing solitude over confrontation.

When the plane landed, her phone lit up with a series of missed calls and apologetic texts from Cedric.

[I’m sorry, wife. Laurent needed me for something urgent, and I missed the flight.]

[I’ve booked the next one; I’ll be there soon!]

[Wife, rest at the hotel when you arrive. I’ll join you later to visit Mom and Dad.]

Dione stared at his messages with cold detachment. Without replying, she flagged down a taxi and directed the driver toward the cemetery in a nearby city.

When she was eighteen, her world shattered in an instant. Her parents had died in a devastating car accident, and the driver responsible vanished without a trace.

Desperation had driven her to knock on every relative’s door, borrowing money just to give her parents a proper burial. The weight of grief and debt hung over her like a dark cloud.

It was during that turbulent year that she met Cedric, a man who seemed, at the time, to be her beacon of hope.

To repay the debts she owed her relatives, Dione worked tirelessly, juggling two jobs every single day. One fateful night, after dragging herself through a grueling shift, she found herself cornered in a dim alley by a group of drunken thugs.

It was Cedric who came to her rescue. He fought valiantly, his fists doing the talking, until the chaos ended with everyone hauled to the police station.

When the police asked Dione to call her parents, silence fell over her. Unable to speak, she lowered her gaze as they checked her ID. The room grew eerily quiet when they discovered the truth about her parents.

Cedric, despite enduring punches that left his face swollen beyond recognition, never shed a tear. But when he learned that Dione had lost both her parents and was braving the world alone, his composure crumbled. Silent tears streaked down his bruised face; he couldn’t fathom how much pain she had endured in solitude.

From that moment on, Cedric made it his mission to be Dione’s protector during the long night shifts, always ensuring she made it home safely.

Cedric’s family wasn’t struggling. His father was a wellestablished entrepreneur known far and wide.

He confided in Dione about his family, sharing bits and pieces of his life, his father’s affair, his reluctance to inherit the family business, and his deep passion for sculpting...

Cedric had cut ties with them after they discovered his relationship with Dione. They had insisted he take the reins of the family business, scolding him for even considering marriage to a girl from such humble roots, especially one who had lost both her parents.

In defiance and to shield Dione from their harsh words, Cedric took her to Cedar Ridge, hoping to learn a new skill.

The past replayed in Dione’s mind like scenes from a movie, each memory sharp and vivid.

She knelt in front of the tombstone, the cold wind biting at her skin, but the warmth of her tears blurred her vision.

“Dad, Mom…”

“Wait for me, okay? I’ll find you soon.”

“In the next life, I still want to be your daughter.”

Winter’s chill had arrived, the air damp and biting, and the cemetery seemed to echo with her pain.

She waited for hours, but Cedric didn’t show. Eventually, with a heavy heart, she made her way back to the hotel alone.

Her phone remained silent, and after a long pause, she decided to call him.

The phone rang, the connection was slow, and when it finally clicked, the noise on the other end made her stomach tighten. There was a shuffle of footsteps before everything went quiet.

“Hello, wife. I’m sorry, something came up.”

“Ophelia had an accident. She’s all alone in Cedar Ridge, and as her mentor, I can’t leave her...”

Once again, Ophelia.

Dione couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Ophelia was so intent on keeping Cedric that she would go as far as to hurt herself to make him stay.

“Then take good care of her over there,” Dione said, her voice steady before hanging up.

She stayed in her hometown for over ten days, each day filled with messages and calls from Cedric, full of excuses about why he couldn’t make it.

Dione played along, not wanting to confront him.

As the day of her appointment with Dr. Pierce approached, she packed up and made her way back to Cedar Ridge.

She didn’t tell Cedric she was returning, she didn’t owe him that, and instead, went straight to his studio to collect her things.

When she arrived, Ophelia was already there, sitting in Cedric’s usual chair, a coffee cup in hand. Her legs were crossed arrogantly as she barked orders to the employees around her.

Dione’s face darkened instantly as she strode toward Ophelia, knocking the coffee cup out of her hand with a sharp motion.

“Is this how you usually waste time? Making everyone else carry the load—what’s the point of you being here?” Dione demanded.

Ophelia, flustered and caught off guard, was about to retort when she noticed Cedric coming out of the room. In an instant, she switched tactics, feigning hurt and rushing to apologize.

“Sister Dione, you’ve misunderstood...”

“I wasn’t slacking off. I’ve been working nonstop and just finally got a moment to breathe.”

Cedric quickly stepped forward, grabbing Dione’s hand with a pleading expression.

“Wife, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back? I would’ve picked you up from the airport.”

Dione shook his hand off and walked into the office without a word, her steps deliberate and cold.

Dione’s gaze swept across the office, and her brow creased without her even realizing it.

Every detail of this space, once carefully chosen by her, had been replaced. The mural that had once been elegant now depicted a playful cartoon, and the ornaments on the desk had morphed into tiny pink houses.

Cedric, who had followed her in, noticed the shift in her expression and quickly offered an explanation.

“The staff thought my office was too dull, so they redecorated it for me.”

“If you don’t like it, I’ll throw it all out.”

Dione turned to him, her hand extending with a quiet demand.

“Where’s my ‘Dina’? What have you done with it?”

Cedric seemed to snap to attention, his eyes scanning the room as he hastily searched. After a moment, he spotted it, tucked away in a box in the corner.

Dione had never learned sculpture. Instead, she had painstakingly taught herself, spending three sleepless days and nights to carve a figure of the two of them, calling it “Dina.”

At the time, Cedric had treated it like a treasure, placing “Dina” in the most visible spot in his office.

To Dione, “Dina” wasn’t just a sculpture; it carried a piece of her soul. She couldn’t bear the thought of it being tainted, especially by the sight of Cedric and Ophelia being so affectionate with each other every day.

Without hesitation, she snatched “Dina,” now gathering dust, and left the studio in a hurry.

Cedric was just about to chase after her when Ophelia’s dramatic cry echoed from behind.

“Master, I twisted my ankle; it hurts so much...”

His steps faltered, and once again, Dione was left to slip away.

As she reached the intersection, it hit her that she was leaving for abroad tomorrow. She paused, deciding she should tell Cedric before she left.

Turning back, she made her way toward the studio once more.

At the corner, Dione spotted Ophelia holding onto Cedric’s hand, refusing to let go.

“Cedric, my foot really hurts. I’m not lying to you…”

Cedric frowned and gently rubbed her nose.

“Why did you put my things in a box and upset Dione? I need to go comfort her.”

Ophelia shook his arm, her voice dripping with sweetness.

“I really envy Dione, having a husband who loves her so much. Unlike me... I’m like a discarded doll, tossed aside.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Cedric said, frowning. “If your foot hurts, go to the hospital and get checked out.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital. Don’t you remember the accident a few days ago? You were so wild in the hospital.”

“You almost let the nurses see everything. You’re so annoying.”

Cedric quickly covered her mouth, his eyes darting around.

“Keep your voice down. Someone will hear!”

Ophelia chuckled, her hands playfully punching his chest.

“Now you care about keeping things quiet. Last night, didn’t you want everyone to hear?”

Cedric smiled, pulling her closer, pressing her head against his chest, and wrapping his arms around her waist.

Dione stood frozen, her body trembling uncontrollably. Her fist was clenched so tightly it felt as though her nails were digging into her skin.

At home, she collapsed, gathering everything that reminded her of the two of them and taking it to the rooftop. There, she set it all ablaze.

As the flames roared to life, her longsuppressed anger and sorrow seemed to dissolve into the heat of the fire.

By the time everything had nearly burned away, Cedric’s call had interrupted the moment.

Dione hesitated for a few seconds before answering.

“Dione, you’re not mad, right? Ophelia twisted her foot; it was badly swollen. I just took her to the hospital.”

“You know, she was in a car accident a few days ago…”

Dione had heard enough. She didn’t want to listen to another word about Ophelia, so she cut him off.

“Cedric, I just want to eat instant noodles.”

On the other end of the phone, Cedric paused, his confusion evident. “What? Instant noodles?”

“Yes, do you remember when we first arrived in Cedar Ridge? We shared a packet, savoring every bite. There were times when we didn’t have much, so we’d share, pretending we weren’t hungry just to let the other have more.”

Dione’s voice trembled as she recalled those simpler days, and tears began to fall unbidden.

“Dione, what’s wrong?”

The noise on his end of the call was growing louder, and Dione wiped away her tears, trying to steady her breath.

“There’s so much noise on your end. Where are you?”

She took several deep breaths, forcing the sobs to stay hidden. “I just really want instant noodles. Can you bring a packet back with you?”

Before Cedric could respond, Ophelia’s voice burst through, urgent and frantic.

“Cedric, I’m bleeding! Please call a doctor!”

Cedric’s tone shifted as he spoke, trying to reassure Dione while attending to Ophelia.

“Stay at home, Dione. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The line went silent as Dione heard the faint sound of the call disconnect.

Dione’s face was etched with helplessness, her tears clouding her vision. She inhaled deeply, her gaze lifting to the sky, as if seeking solace in its vastness.

“Cedric, you missed our last chance to meet.”