Old Love Fades, I Rise

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After relinquishing my seat as the billionaire's wife to a penniless university student, my former mother-in-law compensated me with fifty billion euros and promptly shipped me off to Eastern Europe.

During those years in Eastern Europe, I opened a small flower shop in a quaint seaside town. I found a new social circle, fell in love with a new boyfriend, and was on the verge of getting married and starting a family.

Then one day, the door to my flower shop burst open. An old friend stood there, her face a mask of shock as she blurted, Youre still alive? Why didnt you go back to London to find Aaron Britton? Do you have any idea how frantically hes been searching for you all these years?

I simply offered a faint smile, holding up the ring on my finger. But Im already married and have a child.

The words hung in the air, instantly chilling the atmosphere to an unsettling silence. At my friends urgent, silent prompting, I turned my head.

Aaron Britton stood in the doorway, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his noble, frosty eyes fixed on me.

But my mind drifted back to our third year of marriage, when Aaron confessed hed fallen for a university student named Alice. He asked for a divorce, offering to leave with nothing.

I cried, I raged, I even begged him, casting aside all my dignity. Yet Aaron merely looked at me with cold indifference. Mora, Im sorry, but I dont love you anymore.

I ran to Alices university like a madwoman, creating a scene that solidified her reputation as the other woman. Alice, in turn, hated me enough to run me over with her car.

Lying in a pool of my own blood, my first thought was to send Alice to jail.

But Aaron rushed back that very night, kneeling by my hospital bed, pleading. Mora, please, let her go. Shes so young. I wont divorce you; Ill come back to the family. Ill make it up to you, I promise.

In that moment, watching him beg so humbly for another woman, I felt my heart twist into a knot of agony for the first time. But I loved him too much, loved him enough to agree to his terms.

For the next three years, Aaron indeed cut all ties with Alice. Everyone said hed turned over a new leaf. He came home punctually every day, remembered all my preferences, brewed me ginger tea during my period, and held me tight when I had nightmares.

But once, while we were dining at a restaurant, he got into a furious brawl defending a harassed waitress.

The moment I recognized her face, a chill colder than ice spread through me. He pulled a business card from his inner pocket and handed it to Alice, his voice low. Go see this person. Hell arrange a decent, easy job for you.

Alice suddenly looked at him, her eyes brimming with tears, and knocked the card to the floor.

I dont want any of this. What I want, what Ive always wanted, is just you. Aaron Britton, only you.

Alices tears streamed down her face. For three years, I thought about you every single night, unable to sleep.

I secretly went to our old dating spots and just sat there all day long.

Aaron, why cant we be together when we clearly love each other?

Her sobs were heart-wrenching. Aaron looked at her anguished face, his eyes swirling with profound pain and struggle.

How do you think I feel? But only by returning to my family could I protect you.

Alice, please listen.

He turned to leave, but Alice suddenly lunged at him from behind, kissing him fiercely, heedless of their surroundings.

Hidden behind a planter, I watched, transfixed, as Aarons Adams apple bobbed, making a final, desperate struggle.

Then, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and passionately, fiercely, returned her kiss.

I stood there, my blood seeming to freeze in my veins.

I thought my heart had died three years ago, that it couldnt ache anymore.

But I was wrong. A dead heart could still be tormented.

Now, seeing the undisguised passion and adoration in his eyes, I suddenly felt like those three years of steadfastness had been a colossal joke.

I couldnt bear to watch any longer. I turned and stumbled towards the elevator.

A large hand suddenly reached out from the side, clamping over my mouth.

It was the drunk man Aaron had beaten.

That was your man, wasnt it? He beat me up, so Im going to make you pay.

Thump!

A heavy punch landed on my abdomen, followed by a rain of fists and slaps on my body and face. My consciousness slowly blurred, and I finally collapsed onto the floor like a broken rag doll.

Just as I thought I was going to die there, passersby rushed in and saved me.

The doctors expression was grim after the examination. Multiple contusions, possibly fractured ribs. We need a family members signature.

The nurse in charge dialed the top contact on my phone. It rang for a long time before being answered. The other end was quiet, then came a series of sounds that made my cheeks flush.

A few seconds later, Aarons voice, feigning calmness, came through the phone. Hello, Mora, Im sorry, the company has an urgent overseas video conference. Drive home safely yourself. Ill be back once Im done.

He didnt even wait for my reply before hastily hanging up.

Lying in the hospital bed, I forced a smile that was uglier than any cry, my voice hoarse and broken.

I dont have family. Ill sign myself.

With the final stroke, my vision completely blackened, and I passed out.

When I awoke again, I was in a hospital room permeated with the smell of disinfectant. A familiar, concerned voice spoke by my bedside. Mora, youre awake. How do you feel? Does it still hurt?

Looking at his face so close to mine, at the distinct dark red mark visible on his neck, I felt a wave of nausea.

Seeing no response from me, he took my hand, his eyes sincere. Dont worry, Ive dealt with the man who hit you. No one who harms my Mora gets away with it.

I looked at Aaron, this man I had loved for over a decade, who was now so unfamiliar that he chilled me to the bone. Some mistakes, once crossed, should have been corrected completely.

Now I finally understood that some hearts, once they fly away, can never truly return.

I slowly withdrew my hand, masking the surging pain and deadness in my eyes, and then nodded gently.

Aaron immediately let out a sigh of relief. He thought I had, as always, chosen forgiveness and endurance.

After being discharged, I returned to the villa, opened the safe, and took out a yellowed divorce agreement.

Aarons signature, made three years ago, was in the bottom right corner of the paper. At the time, he had said, Sign it, Mora. Lets part amicably.

I had torn the agreement to shreds like a madwoman, throwing it in his face, crying, Aaron, Id die before Id sign this.

Now, looking at this agreement, which I had carefully pieced back together and preserved, I felt nothing but profound irony. With each stroke, I wrote my own name.

Once done, I took a picture of the signed agreement and sent it to my lawyer.

[Attorney Miller, please expedite my divorce proceedings. All terms as per the agreement, the sooner the better.]

After sending the message, I started packing.

It turned out that living in one place for so long, leaving only required one night.

Aaron didnt return until the next evening. He carried an exquisite gift bag, a gentle smile on his face. Mora, look what I brought you. The limited edition bracelet from your favorite brand. I had someone bring it back from abroad.

He walked in and saw me sitting by the window, lost in thought. You must have been bored from being in the hospital for a few days. Theres a business gala tonight; its a good chance to get some fresh air.

I didnt take the gift, just raised my eyes to look at him. Only then did Aaron notice my suitcase by the wall.

Whats this?

Just tidying up some old things. Planning to donate them.

I explained calmly, then stood up.

The gala was held in the ballroom of a five-star hotel. When Aaron walked in with my hand in his, he attracted many glances. He introduced me to several important partners, behaving thoughtfully, chatting and laughing, giving the impression of a deeply loving couple.

I smiled and nodded cooperatively, but my heart was utterly cold.

Until a server carrying a tray of drinks approached. It was Alice.

Suddenly, without warning, the crystal chandelier overhead detached and plummeted towards Aaron. In a flash, Alice, standing nearby, threw herself forward with all her might, pushing Aaron violently aside as if her life depended on it.

Crash!

The massive chandelier smashed down, landing squarely on Alice. She fell into a pool of blood, instantly losing consciousness.

Alice!

Aarons eyes widened with horror, and he lunged forward, kneeling beside Alice like a madman. He suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes roaring, Call an ambulance, now!

He scooped up the blood-soaked Alice and rushed out, heedless of everything. In his panic and urgency, he even bumped into me, who was standing in his way.

I staggered from the impact, hitting my forehead hard against a cold Roman pillar beside me. Sharp pain shot through me, and warm liquid trickled down my temple.

I clung to the pillar, barely steadying myself, and when I raised a hand to touch my forehead, it came away scarlet. Aaron, meanwhile, cradling Alice, had vanished from the ballroom like a gust of wind, never once looking back at me.

The surroundings were chaos C gasps, murmurs Someone came over to ask if I was alright, but I felt as if I couldnt hear anything.

Clutching my bleeding forehead, I stumbled out of the chaotic ballroom. I didnt go to the hospital, but found a nearby clinic for simple disinfection and a bandage.

Back home, the villa was empty and still cold. I washed the blood from my face and sat on the sofa, opening my phone.

The top trending video in the city was of Aaron. The video was filmed at the renowned St. Michaels Cathedral on the city outskirts, known for its 999 steep stone steps. It was said that a truly devout person, climbing the steps on their knees, would find their prayers for safety answered most effectively.

In the video, Aaron had shed his blood-stained designer suit, wearing only a thin shirt. His expression was solemn, his gaze resolute, as he arduously climbed towards the cathedral at the summit, one step, one kneel, one bow at a time.

A reporter nearby held a microphone, asking, Mr. Britton, who are you praying for? Is it for your family?

Aaron looked into the camera, his eyes tender and firm. For the person I love most, praying for her safety.

The person I love most

I slammed my phone shut, but the suffocating pain in my chest refused to subside.

In the following days, Aaron never returned.

Until one day, as I stepped out to throw away the trash, two police officers approached me. Are you Ms. Mora Thorne? Weve received a report from Ms. Alice Davies, accusing you of hiring someone to assault her, specifically instructing them to throw acid on her. We need you to come with us to assist with the investigation.

My pupils constricted. I couldnt believe it. I hired someone to throw acid on her?

Just then, Aaron walked over. Hearing the polices words, his face instantly changed.

There must be a mistake, right? My wife couldnt possibly do something like that.

The police officers expression was serious. We have preliminary evidence: the suspects confession and relevant transfer records.

He handed a document to Aaron. Aaron took it, flipping through it quickly. The more he read, the darker his face grew, the colder his eyes became.

Finally, he slammed the document onto me, the papers scattering across the floor.

Mora Thorne, tell me, what is this?

I looked down at the papers on the floor, which contained blurry screenshots of bank transfers and a handwritten confession. It stated that a woman named Thorne had instructed him to throw acid on Alice.

Before I could explain, Aarons voice was icy and resolute. Take her. Handle it as you see fit.

Then, he didnt spare me another glance, turning and quickly walking away.

He was rushing to see Alice.

I spent an entire night in the cold detention center.

The next morning, the police informed me that Alice had agreed to a settlement. I signed the papers and walked out of the detention center.

Just as I was about to hail a taxi home, someone from behind covered my mouth and nose with a towel.

When I regained consciousness, I felt myself stuffed inside a sack, my mouth gagged with a cloth, my hands and feet tightly bound. Faint voices reached my ears; it was Aaron and Alice.

Aaron, do we really have to do this to her? Isnt it too much? Shes still your wife, after all.

Aarons voice was icy. Too much? Did she think it was too much when she hired someone to throw acid on you?

Youve undergone three skin graft surgeries, enduring unimaginable pain! Ill use my own methods to give her a lesson shell never forget.

Lying in the sack, my blood seemed to freeze instantly.

It was Aaron. He was the one who had me kidnapped, all to avenge Alice.

The man I loved most, my husband of seven years, was doing this to me for another woman.

Then, I felt the mouth of the sack tighten. Something heavy was then forced inside, pressing down on me.

It was rocks.

Mmm mmm

I struggled wildly, trying to scream, but only muffled whimpers escaped. The sack was roughly lifted, and with a splash, I was thrown into the icy cold river.

The river water instantly surged in from all directions, submerging my mouth and nose, filling my lungs. Suffocation, cold, despair.

I thrashed desperately in the sack, but my hands and feet were bound, and the rocks dragged me down to the bottom.

Just when I thought I was certainly going to die, the sack was suddenly pulled out of the water. I choked, greedily gasping for the freezing air. But a few seconds later, I was forced back under.

This was repeated over and over.

Pulled up, pushed down; pulled up, pushed down a cruel game of cat and mouse.

In the fear of imminent death and the extreme cold and pain, countless images flooded my mind uncontrollably.

Sixteen years old, a blushing boy handing me a love letter under a cherry tree, clumsy handwriting, burning sincerity;

Eighteen years old, at the departure gate of an international airport, he hugged me tightly: Mora, wait for me to come back. Ill definitely marry you.

Twenty-two years old, his first attempt at cooking for me;

Twenty-five years old, at our wedding, the tears glinting in his eyes as he lifted my veil

Those beautiful, sincere affections and promises I thought would last a lifetime, it turned out they were all lies. Or perhaps they were once true, but later given to someone else.

And I, like a fool, clung to the phantom of the past, unwilling to let go.

The next time I was pulled out of the water, I finally couldnt hold on any longer, and I coughed up a large mouthful of blood mixed with river water.

Before my consciousness completely faded, I thought I heard Aarons cold voice from the bank.

Thats enough! Throw her ashore and let her fend for herself.

I dont know how long I lay on the riverbank until a faint glimmer of dawn light stung my eyes.

I struggled, using my last ounce of strength to open my phone. The screen lit up, and two unread messages popped up.

The first was from Aaron: [Mora, since I chose to return to the family, I wont do anything to betray you again. Please stop hurting Alice. She almost had her face ruined this time, and her mental state is very fragile. Ill stay with her for a few days and then come back to you.]

The second was from my lawyer: [Ms. Thorne, all divorce procedures have been completed. Your divorce certificate has been sent to your home by express delivery. I wish you all the best for your future.]

I looked at these two messages and suddenly laughed.

I laughed so hard I coughed up more blood, laughed until tears streamed down my face.

I blacklisted Aarons number without hesitation, then, supporting my bruised and battered body, I shakily stood up. Every step felt like treading on knife blades, and the fractured part of my leg sent excruciating pain shooting through me.

But I just bit my lip, moving forward with difficulty, one step at a time.

Returning to that cold, empty villa, on the living room coffee table, there was indeed an express delivery envelope. I tore it open, and inside were two dark red divorce certificates.

I picked up the one belonging to me and opened it. In the photo, I was wearing the white shirt from our wedding, smiling gently and serenely.

I did not pick up Aarons.

I gently placed the blank divorce certificate in the most conspicuous spot on the coffee table. Then, I turned and picked up the suitcase I had already packed.

I took one last look at this place I had lived in for seven years, loved for seven years, and dragged myself through for seven years.

No lingering attachment, no looking back. I opened the door and walked out.