Chapter 5

Estelle hid behind a column outside the banquet hall, but as she did, she overheard Ruben chatting idly with his cousin, Renee Daye. "So, are you really planning to live like this for the rest of your life?" Renee frowned. "Secrets don't stay hidden forever. No matter how well you cover it up, your wife will find out sooner or later." Ruben chuckled. "I love Estelle, but Louisa gave birth to my children. I can't just abandon her. Living like this isn't so bad." "And what if you can't keep it hidden? What will you do then?" Renee muttered. "Being unfaithful is unfair to Estelle." "That day will never come. Hasn't everything been fine for the past two years?" Ruben remained confident. "I know I owe Estelle, so I'll make it up to her by treating her even better." Renee rolled her eyes in disdain. "Do you think love can be repaid with material things? Let me give you some advice because we're family. Ashy is coming back soon. "You know how rigid he is and how much he despises men like you who mess around. You'd better hide your mistress well. If Ashy finds out, he'll definitely expose you." Estelle felt her legs go weak as she slid down the column, collapsing onto the floor. The pain in her heart had long since numbed. All she felt now was nausea. She stumbled out of the hotel, but the relentless emotional blows from the past few days had drained her completely. Her vision went black, and she collapsed to the ground. When she woke up, she was in an unfamiliar room. A man wearing a pair of rimless glasses sat on the couch beside the bed, and he was dressed in a crisp suit. He methodically worked his way through a mountain of paperwork. His expression remained inscrutable, yet a palpable tension radiated from his sharp features. Estelle sat up, staring at him in a daze for a few seconds before recognition hit her. It was Ruben's uncle—Asher Daye. He had spent most of his years abroad running a business, and Estelle had only met him a handful of times. All she knew was that Ruben had always been a little afraid of this uncle, even though he was only three years older than him. When Ruben was a mischievous child, his parents couldn't bear to discipline him, so it was always Asher who did the job. Ruben once described him as someone rigid and overly serious as he followed the rules to the letter. "Are you awake?" The man closed the file in his hands. "The doctor said you just had a miscarriage and fainted due to emotional distress." He stepped toward her slowly. "Ruben doesn't know about your miscarriage, does he? Otherwise, he would have lost his mind already. There's no way he would've let you collapse on the street alone." Estelle remained silent for a long time before finally speaking. "Thank you for today. But please, don't tell him about this." Asher didn't respond. Seeing his unwillingness to agree, she lowered her voice and pleaded, "Please." Asher froze for a moment. Something was clearly wrong between them as under normal circumstances, this was something Ruben absolutely needed to know. But for some reason, his heart softened. He agreed to keep it a secret in the end. Asher then arranged for Estelle to be sent home. Not long after she arrived, Ruben returned as well. "Love, what do you want for lunch? I'll cook." No matter how busy he was, Ruben always insisted on preparing her meals himself out of fear that a chef might not cook with enough care or that the food wouldn't suit her taste. He then pulled out a jewelry set. "The custom pieces finally arrived. Take a look. Do you like them?" Estelle glanced at them. They were identical to the ones he had given Louisa earlier that day. A laugh immediately escaped her lips. All this time, she had thought she was special. But in the end, his so-called devotion was nothing more than a mass-produced sentiment—one that came in matching sets. "No need," she said flatly. "Also, I want to visit The Skyloft." The Skyloft was an estate Ruben had built for her five years ago. It held some of their most cherished memories. There, Ruben had confessed to her for the 97th time and finally succeeded. It was where they had their first kiss and their first embrace. And it was there that he had proposed, swearing to love only her for the rest of his life. But because it was located on the outskirts, they rarely visited the place after getting married. It was noon, and she would be flying away by 3:00 pm, leaving this place forever. This would be her last visit and her final goodbye. Ruben stiffened, his expression flashing with panic. A while back, Louisa had begged to stay there, and he had given her the keys. She was there today with the twins. "Sure, let's go after lunch." He hurried into the kitchen and secretly sent Louisa a message, telling her to leave immediately. Hence, they arrived at the estate at 1:00 pm. The moment Estelle stepped inside, she sensed something was off. The roses in the garden had been replaced with lilies. The pale green curtains had been swapped for pink, and there was a child's rocking horse in the living room. It was obvious someone had been living here. But she pretended not to notice and headed straight upstairs. A few of their old photo albums remained in the bedroom. She intended to take them so she could burn them. After all, the thought of leaving them here disgusted her. Yet when she opened the first album, her body went rigid. Inside, page after page, were photos of Ruben and Louisa as well as the twins. There were photos of the four of them in lavender fields, in front of a world-famous tower, and even floating in a hot air balloon. Every single place Ruben had once taken her—every cherished memory she thought belonged to them alone—he had taken another woman there, too. And on countless nights, in moments she never knew about, he had defiled what little remained of the life they had once shared. Noticing how pale Estelle had become, Ruben walked over. "What's wrong, love?" She shut the photo album abruptly and smiled. "Nothing. I just want to go home." Turning around, she started for the stairs, but Ruben's phone buzzed just then. His expression shifted instantly, and panic flashed across his face. "Love, I need to use the restroom real quick. Go on downstairs and wait for me, okay?" Estelle nodded and left. But a few minutes later, she turned back. Standing outside the bathroom door, she overheard Ruben's urgent voice. "Didn't I tell you to leave with the kids? Why are you still here?" Louisa's sultry voice drifted through the door. "I just wanted to have a little fun with you. We've already done it once on your marriage bed, right in front of your wedding photos. "But now, with her just downstairs… doesn't that make it even more thrilling?" Ruben's breathing grew heavier. "You little temptress…" Then came the sound of running water—followed by something far worse. Estelle felt nothing as she stood outside. There was no pain, no sadness, nor any anger. There was only one thought passing through her mind—how did the man she loved turn out this way? He was now like a poppy flower growing in filth—seductive yet reeking of decay. Or perhaps he had always been this way, and she had just never seen it. She thought back to the first time Ruben introduced her to his social circle years ago. Those wealthy heirs had smiles on their faces as they offered their congratulations, but she knew they laughed about it behind their backs. They mocked Ruben for being a fool, for dedicating himself to one woman. With his status, they thought he could easily have ten at his feet. Back then, Ruben had told her, "I'm not like them. I only love you." As it turned out, he was rotten, just like them. Everything was only a matter of time. Estelle let out a quiet laugh and silently made her way downstairs. She had come from the mountains. Her mother had been trafficked there. And because she hadn't given birth to a son, both she and Estelle had suffered daily beatings from her father. Estelle had run away at 13, and the first thing she did was put her father, Albert Charter, behind bars. He had cursed her for it, swearing she would die a miserable death. Meanwhile, her mother, Darlene Bowman, who was now free because of her, had never once thanked her. It was because Estelle was the evidence of her humiliation, the festering wound of her past. Growing up in that twisted home, Estelle had learned to build walls that were tall and unbreakable to keep everyone at a distance. Yet when she was 18, Ruben had come bursting into her life. He had been like an unrelenting flame, slowly melting the ice around her heart. With patience and tenderness, he had erased the pain of her past. He had showered her with love, and he had taught her how to love again. And yet, the same man who had once made her feel the safest and the happiest person had inflicted the deepest, cruelest wound. Not to mention, it was a wound that would never heal.