My Husband Tricked Me Into a Fake Divorce,But I Left for Good

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On the day of our tenth wedding anniversary, my husband told me he was getting remarried.

His face was perfectly calm as he told me: The truth is, I'm the CEO of Sanchez Group. I'm worth billions. I only married you to see what an ordinary life felt like. In a week, Sanchez is forming a marriage alliance with the Pruitts.

"But don't worry, my heart still belongs to you. This is only a fake divorce. Once I get the Pruitts' core technology, I'll remarry you. And I won't touch her the whole time I'm tied to her."

I gripped my phone so hard my knuckles ached, an explicit video playing on the screen without sound.

The two people in it were my husband and the Pruitt heiress.

I forced myself steady, looked at the sanctimonious mask of my husband's face, closed my eyes, and said, "Fine. I agree to the divorce."

Watching my husband walk away, thrilled to his core, I picked up my phone and replied to an email that had come a month ago.

If you want me to come back to the Pruitts, fine. Prudence Pruitt's dowry has to be arranged by me. I want 25% of the Pruitt shares. Otherwise I won't honor that childhood betrothal with the Vances.

The moment I sent it, the reply came almost instantly.

Agreed. In a week she'll marry into Sanchez. You handle the timing however you like. Also, when do you want to marry into the Vance family?

I stared at that message for a long time, unable to snap out of it.

It wasn't until Charles Sanchez walked over to me that I came back to myself. His face darkened, and he suddenly demanded, "Why are you making that face? Are you backing out?"

Before I could get a word out.

Charles spoke first, terrified I might change my mind. "Louise Mason, you're a woman who keeps her word above all. Whatever you agree to, you have to follow through!"

Looking at that anxious face of his, I felt a giant hand clamp down on my heart and wrench it apart, the pain leaving me unable to breathe.

Ten years ago I'd rebelled and fled the Pruitts, lived on my own for a year, and at nineteen I met Charles Sanchez.

We met because of a promise. I borrowed his umbrella and promised to return it in two hours, so he waited in the gazebo.

When I came back to the gazebo, Charles was checking his watch, astonished. "You really keep your word. Two hours, and not a second off."

From that meeting on, Charles grew interested in me, slowly learning what I liked, gradually folding himself into my life.

And now, Charles was the one asking to leave.

The man who once said he "wished he could tear up the marriage certificate and keep me trapped at his side for the rest of my life" had, in the end, changed his heart.

I pulled my thoughts back and said, my voice bitter, "Don't worry. Whatever I agree to, I'll do."

I had agreed to the divorce, but I never agreed to remarry Charles.

Hearing that, his brow smoothed. "Lulu, don't worry, it's only a formality with her. I don't actually love her."

"You'll always be my good wife, even if Sammy isn't with us now"

"Shut up." I cut him off sharply. "You don't have the right to say his name!"

"Sammy's death was just an... accident. Why won't you let it go, why do you keep living in the past?" Charles explained, exasperated.

I turned my back on him, my voice raw. "Are you filing for the divorce or not? The county clerk's office closes in an hour!"

Charles said nothing more and hurried out to get the car.

Sitting in the car, I looked out the window. The half-open window rolled shut.

I glanced at Charles, confused. He kept his eyes on the road and said, "Prudence doesn't like the windows down, she worries a bug will get in. And don't mess up the things on the passenger seat. Prudence, she..."

Listening to him go on and on with his reminders, I didn't answer. I just quietly turned my head back to the window, my thoughts drifting far.

At nineteen I was there beside Charles while he built his company. Back then we lived in a two-hundred-square-foot basement, inseparable, unwilling to be apart for a single second.

Just after my twenty-second birthday, Charles couldn't wait to drag me to the courthouse at the crack of dawn to register the marriage. He even went around telling everyone that Charles Sanchez had finally married the girl he loved.

At twenty-four I gave him a son, nicknamed Sammy. He said, "This child came into our lives like a star, brilliant and shining."

But at twenty-nine, I lost Sammy forever, and the one to blame was the very woman in Charles's marriage alliancePrudence Pruitt.

After I found out the truth, I appealed like a woman possessed, only to be turned down every single time.

Later the Pruitts told me it was Charles who had helped Prudence escape charges behind the scenes, and they promised that if I would only come back to the Pruitts, they'd help me get justice.

At first I didn't believe Charles had that kind of reach. Back when our funding fell through, we were buried in enormous debt, scraping by every day. He drove for Uber and picked up delivery gigs between fares.

And I wished I could split every hour in two, working five or six jobs a day, sleeping less than three hours a night.

Until today, when I received that filthy video and heard Charles's confession.

I saw the man beside my pillow for exactly what he was.

Ten years of marriage. Nothing more than this.

After the divorce papers were finalized, the corners of Charles's mouth lifted slightly, the way they did when he was in a very good mood.

"Lulu, don't worry, a month from now I'll divorce her and remarry you. My heart has always been with you."

As he finished, his phone rang. He saw the name on the screen, and tenderness instantly flooded his eyes, his voice softening without his even realizing it. "Prudence, missing me? Okay... I'm heading back right now, it's all taken care of..."

Charles brushed past me.

The words I hadn't finished paused for three seconds before I slowly let them out. "There won't be any remarriage. Because I'm marrying someone else."

After the cab dropped me home, I started clearing out everything Charles had given me over the years.

A ring made from a soda-can tab, a crown woven from wild grass, love letters he'd handwritten and printed

Less than an hour of sorting, and it all fit into two boxes. Almost nothing in them was worth a cent.

Even this cramped, run-down apartment was something I'd only been able to rent by working five or six jobs at once, and I was still three months behind on the rent.

I looked at those two boxes of cheap little things, and they looked back like a mirror of my marriagecheap, and stripped of any dignity.

Because it was worthless, it was never worth cherishing.

Something gnawed at my chest like a million termites, a thick, crawling ache, until my eyes reddened and my vision blurred.

I carried the two boxes downstairs and, piece by piece, began to burn them.

As if I were saying goodbye to the person I used to be.

Then a startled voice cut in: "Ahem what's wrong with you, you little maid? Still out here burning things to make offerings to the dead? How unlucky can you get!"

I turned. It was Prudence Pruitt, dressed head to toe in wealth.

The girl my parents had once sponsored. Later she became my adoptive sister.

When Prudence saw me, there was no surprise in her eyesonly a haughty, gloating triumph and a taunt she couldn't wait to throw.

"Well, if it isn't Prudence Pruittoh, wait, that's not right. I heard you changed your name. What is it now, Louise Mason? You took your dead mother's surname. Doesn't the bad luck bother you?"

My gaze darkened. I warned her, "Prudence. Watch your mouth."

She covered her lips and laughed softly, saying it on purpose. "Your mom's been dead, what, twelve years now? And you still can't let her go? Figures. Trash raises trash."

Fury boiled up from somewhere deep, and I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face.

She didn't flinch. Instead, something calculating flickered in her eyes, and behind it, the pleasure of getting exactly what she wanted.

The next second, my left cheek exploded with pain, and I hit the ground with no chance to catch myself.

I looked up and saw Charles frantically helping Prudence up, his eyes full of concern for her. "Are you okay? It looks swollen. Let me get you some ice first."

"Actually, let's just go straight to the hospital. Don't worry, I'm here. Nothing bad is going to happen."

With that, Charles scooped Prudence up in his arms, turned, and walked off.

From beginning to end, he never once looked at me.

I watched his retreating back, and all at once I remembered a time when some thugs had harassed me at one of my jobs, and Charles had said the very same thing.

He'd said, "Don't worry, I'm here. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Later I asked him, "Have you ever said that to other girls too?"

He answered without a shred of hesitation, "Never. If a day like that ever came, it would only mean I'd fallen for someone else."

Now those words were his to give to Prudence.

Every word of explanation I wanted to give jammed in my throat, and not a single one would come out.

Grievance is meant for the ears of someone who cares. Explanations are meant for someone who'll judge you fairly.

Just as I was about to leave, five or six bodyguards suddenly barged in. Two of them stepped forward, pinned down my shoulders, and forced me to my knees.

My knees slammed hard against the concrete floor, the pain wrenching my brows together.

Someone was fiddling with a phone in front of me, seemingly recording a livestream or a video.

Someone else stood over me, slapping me across the face, one blow after another.

I lost count of how many times. My vision burst with stars, my cheeks swollen so badly I couldn't even close my mouth, blood mixing with saliva as it ran down my chin.

Then, all at once, I felt them stop. Everything around me fell silent.

I heard Charles's voice clearly on the other end of the phone.

"Prudence, did that make you feel better? If it's not enough, let's make it another hundred, how about that"

I couldn't take in another word after that. My vision went black, and I passed out cold.

When I woke again, Charles was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding a bowl of porridge and blowing on it to cool it.

"You're awake. Eat something first." Charles pushed the seafood porridge toward me.

I turned my head away to avoid it.

Charles's brows drew together slightly. "Are you angry? Yesterday, that business with you hitting Prudence upset the Pruitts. They wanted me to give them an explanation."

"I admit I went too far there. But I've already transferred two villas into your name. Consider it compensation. Stop making a scene and hurry up and eat."

"I'm allergic to seafood." I frowned in disgust and shrank back, keeping clear of that bowl of seafood porridge.

Charles froze at that, his hand suspended in midair. It was a long moment before he spoke. "Sorry. I saw it on the way and just grabbed it."

I turned my face aside and ignored him.

Charles was quiet for a moment. "That"

A phone rang, cutting him off.

The instant he answered, Prudence's syrupy little voice came through. "Charlie~ where are you? I feel so awful"

"I'm out buying food. I'll be right back."

Charles stood as he spoke, picking up the fancy takeout box from the small table beside him and leaving. Not once did he spare me another glance.

Back when Charles and I were madly in love, the slightest thing wrong with me and he'd be beside himself with worry.

Even if I only scraped my skin, he'd insist on checking me into the hospital for observation.

Back then, we'd just failed at our first business venture and were hundreds of thousands in debt. Whatever money he had, he spent every cent of it on me.

He'd said, "You're my wife. If I'm not good to you, who would I be good to? Be good. I'll give you the luxury cars and the mansion someday. That's no empty promise."

I thought I'd met the love of my life.

But in the end it was nothing more than a dreamlike swindle dressed up as love.

The buzz of my phone pulled me back from my thoughts. I lowered my eyes to look. It was a message from Charles.

The divorce will be finalized in six days. Don't stir up trouble in the meantime. Once I've secured the Pruitts' core technology, I'll remarry you.

Remarry, again.

I set the phone down, too listless even to reply.

In Charles's mind, I was the lover he could never drive away, and more than that, the wife who slaved without complaint and served him willingly.

Too bad he'd forgotten.

I too had once said, "If the day comes that you betray me, I'll turn around and leave without a second's hesitation. I'll never give you another chance."

On my second day in the hospital, I was taking a midday nap when the shut door was kicked open.

Charles was at the front, fury on his face, staring at me. "Where did you hide Prudence's wedding ring?"

My eyes went blank. "What wedding ring?"

"It's the wedding ring Charlie had custom-made just for me. There's only one of its kind in the world. Yesterday he said he'd bring it to cheer me up, but who'd have thought the box would be empty"

Prudence stepped out from behind Charles, feigning grievance as she asked, "Excuse me, have you seen that ring? It's the one we're going to use for our wedding. It means a great deal to me."

"If you really love the ring so much, II can have Charlie buy you another style. Please, I'm begging you, give that ring back to me."

My mind went blank. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't have anything you're looking for. Get out!"

Charles ignored me completely and turned to his bodyguards. "Search the place. Whoever finds it first gets double the bonus."

Several of them barged in and began ransacking the room, rifling through every corner.

With a clear conscience, I rounded on Charles. "We've known each other for ten years. Have you really lost even that most basic trust in me? Do you honestly think I'm the kind of person who would"

Before I could finish, one of the bodyguards ran out of the bathroom, holding up an exquisite diamond ring. "Found it! Mr. Sanchez, Miss Pruitt, take a look. Is this the one?"

Prudence's eyes lit up. "Yes! That's it!"

Charles fixed me with a piercing stare. "Louise, I never imagined you were this kind of person. You've truly disappointed me."

The disappointment in his eyes flickered and was gone. A dull ache pressed hard against my heart, and I wanted to explain that I hadn't taken it at all.

But then my gaze caught the look Prudence traded with the bodyguard, and the words stuck in my throat.

It was useless.

No matter how I explained, Charles would never believe me.

"Hmph. If you can't keep your hands to yourself, then we'll break them."

The instant the words left Charles's mouth, a bodyguard stepped forward and pinned my arm down, then drove his heel into it. The sound of bone shattering rang out at once.

I didn't even have time to beg before my right hand was bent into a grotesque shape.

The pain in my body wasn't a fraction of the pain in my heart.

I drew in a deep breath, my voice muffled, carrying a fragility that bordered on despair. "Charles, you know perfectly well my right hand is meant to teach those children piano. Why would you ruin it too?"

Charles held Prudence's slender waist, his face expressionless. "You took what Prudence cares about most, so naturally I'll destroy what you care about most."

"From now on, don't stoop to petty thieving. It's beneath you."

"Charlie, don't be angry. Maybe she's just never seen a ring like this and wanted to admire it. After all, she crawled out of some slum, so of course she's never laid eyes on anything nice."

Prudence covered her mouth and laughed softly, the mockery in her eyes all but spilling over.

I watched the two of them walk away, Charles's words still echoing in my ears.

The dull ache in my heart twisted into a sharp knife, churning until I couldn't breathe.

Once the cast was set, I grabbed the doctor's arm and pleaded, "Could you check the surveillance footage? I want to prove my innocence. I really never stole anything."

During the treatment, the doctor had already rolled his eyes at me no fewer than twenty times.

He shook my hand off, his face taking on an amused look. "Ma'am, mind your manners."

"You can have the footage. Add me as a contact first, and I'll send it to you in a bit."

I'd noticed earlier that there was a camera directly across from my door, angled to catch the footage.

Maybe it was the only thing that could prove my innocence. Even if Charles would never believe it, I wanted to try.

After adding him, I waited anxiously, the minutes slipping away one by one, and still no video came from the doctor.

Instead, what came was Charles storming in, seething with rage.

He held down his fury and demanded, "Louise, have you really sunk this low? You and I are only divorced for the time being, and you've fallen so far you'd sell your own body?"

His words rooted me to the spot. "What do you mean?"

"Charlie, don't be angry. Maybe she was just lonely and wanted to find a man to pass the time, or maybe she just wanted to rile you up so you'd come coax her. Oh, a girl's little schemes never amount to much." Prudence had caught up by now, hooking her arm through Charles's, her voice all smiles.

"If you're going to say something, you'd better have proof!" I said sharply.

Proof? Charles let out a cold laugh. Fine. You want it, you got it.

Then he raised his phone. On the screen was a screenshot of a chat, its content showing me begging the other person to help me find a man, saying I wanted to earn money with my body and other vile things.

And the one I'd been chatting with was that doctor I'd only just added.

Before I could even process it, Charles had the bodyguards bring the doctor over.

The moment the doctor arrived, he waved his hands in a panic, scrambling to distance himself. Mr. Sanchez, please, you have to see clearly. I honestly thought she wanted to discuss her condition with me, but I never imagined she'd be this shameless, this cheap! Wanting to trade her body for money

I opened my mouth, and the words I wanted to say to explain were shut down by the cold, indifferent look in Charles's eyes.

He didn't believe me.

Back when I was working a part-time job and got framed for stealing money by a customer who'd failed to grope me, he was the one who'd stepped up, standing alone in front of more than a dozen people, telling me firmly and loudly. I believe you! You're not that kind of person at all! They're the ones with rotten hearts. They didn't get what they wanted, so now they're slandering you, dragging your name through the mud!

From that moment on, Charles became my whole world.

I followed Charles with my whole heart, even willingly took the savings I'd brought from the Pruitts and poured them into his startup, and even when it all came to nothing in the end, I had no regrets.

And now, there was no place for me left in Charles's heart. Even if I talked myself hoarse, he wouldn't believe a single word.

I stayed silent, saying nothing more.

But Charles took it as a guilty conscience, disgust rising in his eyes. Louise Mason, well done.

With that, Charles turned and walked away, and something calculating flickered in Prudence's eyes.

For some reason, I felt that something bad was about to happen.

So I hurried to check out of the hospital.

I'd barely gotten home, less than three minutes, when the door was kicked open.

Charles gritted his teeth, his voice thick with hatred. Louise Mason, didn't I tell you not to go after Prudence? She's just a pawn to open up the AI market for me. Why can't you ever listen?

What did she say this time? I looked at him, my eyes empty.

Even if I fled to the ends of the earth, one frown from Prudence and it would be my fault.

Charles's face was cold. You degrade yourself, and then you actually try to ruin Prudence's good name. Louise Mason, what more do you have to say?

If I say it wasn't me, would you believe it? I sighed, speaking helplessly.

Charles's gaze dodged away. Does it matter whether I believe it? There are witnesses and evidence.

At that, Charles paused, and his tone suddenly softened. :

Louise, just bear with it a little. A bit of suffering won't kill you. Once I get the Pruitts' core technology, I'll love you properly, and I'll remarry you.

With that, Charles called over three or four bodyguards and gave them the order. Strip off her clothes, take nude photos, and sell them for a dime apiece.

Then Charles turned and left.

I looked at the bodyguards closing in, and my heart went cold.

It felt more like an invisible blade had run me through, every breath tearing with pain.

I was forced down against the floor, and faintly I heard someone speak. Hey, Mr. Sanchez changed his order. He says we're to sleep with her, record that kind of video, and put it up for auction later.

Hearing this, the others froze for a few seconds, and I seized the chance, struggling with everything I had. The moment I spotted a gap, I spun around and bolted for the door.

A rush of force came at my back, and I was kicked to the floor.

Ignoring the pain in my body, I scrambled up and kept running, half stumbling, half crawling.

I'd just made it out into the street when a speeding car came at me and sent me flying.

In the instant before my eyes closed, I thought I saw Prudence's face, smug and taunting.

The sharp sting of disinfectant slowly pulled me back to consciousness.

"Well, well. A cheap little slut really does have a cheap little life. No matter what anyone does, you just won't die."

Prudence's eyes were full of contempt, her voice dripping with scorn.

I kept my eyes lowered and said nothing, quietly switching on the voice recorder I always carried.

Seeing that I wouldn't speak, she stepped closer and grabbed me by the collar. "Louise, do you really think Charles loves you? He just wanted to play at living an ordinary person's life with you. What a shame. He doesn't even know you're the real eldest daughter of the Pruitts."

"If you'd only said the word, maybe he wouldn't have divorced you at all."

I stayed silent.

Prudence's lips curved into a soft laugh, and she went on. "You're a lot tougher than that son of yours. Flung into the air by a car, and you still wake up this fast. Your boy was different. I barely nudged him with the car and he died right there on the spot. So dull, really."

"Thinking of dragging me into court? What a pity. Charles loves me. He'd never let you get away with it. Take a good look, Louise. These are photos of me and Charles in bed."

With that, Prudence pulled a stack of photos from her bag and flung them into the air, letting them scatter down around me.

Every single photo was different, but in every one of them the two of them were naked, doing things too unspeakable to name.

My heart clenched hard, and a bottomless bitterness spread through my chest.

Whatever last shred of feeling I had for Charles was draining away.

Prudence smiled, smug. "There are plenty more where those came from. On your anniversary, I was the one who tried a hundred and eight positions with him and went through ten boxes of condoms, and only then did he decide to come clean to you himself."

"So you... how pathetic." Mockery flickered in my eyes as I spoke, weak and faint. "Stooping to something like this just to get attention."

Prudence's eyes darted around. Then she dropped to her knees with a thud and, out of nowhere, began slapping herself.

Crack!

Crack! Crack! Crack!

The crisp sound of palm against skin rang out through the silent hospital room.

"I'm sorry, Miss Mason, I was wrong. I'm begging you, please don't put these photos out there. My reputation doesn't matter, but Sanchez Group is still Mr. Sanchez's company. I can't let you destroy everything he's built over all these years."

"Let me kowtow to you, all right? Please, don't spread them. You can hit me, curse me, it was my own poor skill behind the wheel that made me run you down, but this has nothing to do with Mr. Sanchez. Can't you leave the innocent out of it?"

And with that, Prudence made a show of getting ready to bow her head to the floor before me.

Before I could even work out what act she was putting on this time,

the very next second Charles's voice erupted, rage barely held in check. "Louise! What are you kicking up a fuss about now?!"

Charles strode in, pulled Prudence to her feet, and gathered her into his arms.

"Charlie, I just came to look in on Miss Mason. I never thought she'd threaten me with these photos, forbid me to marry you..."

"She even said I'm not allowed at the wedding three days from now, that she'll take my place at the altar. II was afraid it would hurt the interests of both the Sanchez and Pruitt families, so I begged Miss Mason to let us go..."

Charles's brow furrowed. "Louise, how did you turn into something this unreasonable? You're no different from a shrew."

My voice was hoarse as I threw it back at him. "Right. A CEO of Sanchez Group and the eldest daughter of the Pruitts, both cornered by one commoner. Say that out loud and see if people don't laugh."

Charles's expression stalled for a moment. He held Prudence and murmured, "Don't be afraid, Prudence. You're the eldest daughter of the Pruitts. There's no need for you to bow your head to her."

At the words "eldest daughter of the Pruitts," a flash of guilt passed through Prudence's eyes and was gone.

She feigned innocence. "Just now I was only so worried, so afraid of damaging your interests, that I acted on impulse without thinking..."

She hadn't finished before I cut her off, my voice sharp with scorn. "Was it impulse, or was it just instinct? You'd better learn to tell the two apart."

Back when Prudence was living off my family's support, she'd worn that same pitiful look, dropping to her knees and kowtowing at the slightest thing in front of my parents. In the end, things that were never my fault all got pinned on me.

Prudence glared at me, loathing in every line of her face.

"Enough." Charles cut in. "Apologize to Prudence, and we'll pretend none of this ever happened."

I should have been used to how he always took her side.

Yet watching him stand up for Prudence, my heart still gave that faint, involuntary sting, like the prick of a needle.

"Charlie, my face hurts so much..."

Prudence cupped her cheek, her voice small and pitiful.

Charles frowned. "I'll make sure you get justice. There, now. Go pick out your gown. In three days you'll be my bride."

Something twisted sharply in my chest.

I remembered the days I'd huddled beside Charles in that basement, when he used to hold me around the waist and murmur, "One day I'll throw you a grand wedding, and make you the happiest bride in the world."

For all our years of marriage, I'd waited for the wedding he promised, sneaking looks at bridal gowns more times than I could count.

But later, he broke his word.

His bride had become someone else, and the promise was forgotten completely.

The moment Prudence left, Charles's face went cold, his gaze shadowed as he looked at me. "Can't you show a little sense? I'm doing this for our future too."

"Charles, there is no future." My voice came out hoarse and flat.

Something in him lurched without reason. He opened his mouth to ask what I meant, but Prudence's startled cry rang out from beyond the door.

His attention snapped away. He didn't believe I'd have anywhere decent to go if I left him.

So he simply turned and walked out.

Not long after he'd gone, three bodyguards forced their way in. Two of them dragged me up off the hospital bed.

The third tipped over a bucket, and out spilled ice, mounds of it, breathing cold into the air.

Something clicked into place, and I shouted, "What are you doing? Charles and I are already divorced. There's nothing between us. You can't treat me like this!"

The bodyguard pinning me down sneered. "It's all on Mr. Sanchez's orders. He said you needed a lesson, so you'd face reality and accept his arrangements like a good girl."

My knees slammed down onto the shards and ice, and the raw pain drove my brows together hard.

The burning sting in my knees was quickly numbed away by the cold.

Three hours later, I couldn't feel my knees at all. I struggled to rise, but they held me down without mercy, and I knelt two hours more.

In the end I couldn't take it, and I passed out.

When I woke again, I was one day away from leaving Charles for good.

My face was bloodless as I pulled out my phone and requested an expedited divorce certificate.

The reply came quickly.

Rush order processed. Your certificate will be ready at three this afternoon.

I gripped the phone, unable to tell whether there was more joy or more grief in me.

Ten years of true devotion, and in the end all I got was a body full of ailments, and a lost child.

I couldn't even win my child the justice he deserved.

At three o'clock, I stood at the door of the county clerk's office right on time. Certificate in hand, I placed a next-day delivery order for Charles's copy, addressed to the site of his wedding.

A Bentley pulled up in front of me. The door opened, and the butler bowed to me with the utmost respect. "Young mistress, welcome home."

I got into the car and gazed out the window.

Waiting at a red light, I saw, in a car across the way, Charles locked in a passionate kiss with Prudence.

That man who had always been so reserved and level-headed, who had never once been willing to show me too much affection in public, was now kissing her deeply behind a half-lowered window.

I drew my eyes away and rolled up the window.

The car started again, merging into the flow of traffic.

From this day on, Charles and I were nothing to each other.

The road ahead was long, and we would never meet again.