Chapter 2 A Chance I Never Asked For
The office was engulfed in a suffocating silence.
No one moved after Moana's question left her lips in such a calm voice. That very calmness carried far more weight than shouting or tears ever could. She stood in the middle of the cooling puddle of soup spreading across the marble floor, while the aroma of the steak and black pepper sauce she had prepared with so much hope now mingled with the nausea rising in her chest.
There was no longer a trace of hope in Moana's eyes.
For the past three years, she had always found excuses for her husband's coldness. Every time Tristan came home late, she told herself he was simply too busy with work. Every time he forgot an important day in their lives, she chose to believe that he just wasn't the type of man who knew how to express affection. Even when he barely touched the meals she cooked, Moana would prepare something different the next day, hoping that one day her efforts would finally be appreciated.
Now it all seemed so laughable.
It wasn't that Tristan was incapable of loving someone.
He had simply never wanted to love her.
Tristan let out a quiet breath before finally meeting Moana's gaze. Strangely, there wasn't the slightest trace of panic left on his face. If anything, now that everything had been exposed, he seemed relieved, as though a burden he had carried for years had finally been lifted.
"I'm not going to make excuses," he said flatly. "What you saw is exactly what it looked like."
A faint smile crossed Christina's lips at his admission. Instead of stepping away, she moved even closer to Tristan's side. Her fingers casually wrapped around his arm before she rested her head against the CEO's shoulder with unmistakable possessiveness.
Moana watched the scene without blinking.
Tristan didn't even try to remove another woman's hand from his arm.
"Christina and I have been together for quite some time," Tristan continued. "This isn't some momentary mistake."
Christina looked up at him with a sweet smile before boldly pressing a kiss against his cheek right in front of Moana.
"I'm tired of hiding," she whispered softly.
Tristan returned her smile.
The warmth Moana had spent three years longing to receive now flowed so naturally toward another woman.
That simple exchange hurt far more than the confession of the affair itself.
In that moment, Moana realized one thing.
Not even once during the past three years had Tristan's heart ever belonged to her.
"I know this isn't easy for you to accept," Tristan continued in the same composed tone. "But I don't want to keep living a lie."
"A lie?" Moana finally asked quietly.
"Yes."
He nodded.
"Our marriage was an arrangement from the very beginning. You knew why I married you. Uncle Ronald needed someone the board considered suitable to stand by my side so I could meet the requirements to become CEO. I agreed to it, and so did you."
A faint smile appeared on Moana's lips.
"I agreed to this marriage," she said slowly. "I never agreed to be betrayed."
Tristan fell silent for a moment, yet his expression remained unchanged.
"I never intended to hurt you."
The irony of those words nearly made Moana laugh.
There he stood beside the woman he had cheated with, in front of his lawful wife, without the slightest hint of guilt.
"I just want everything to be clear from today onward."
Moana nodded slowly.
"Good. Everything is perfectly clear now."
But Tristan shook his head.
"There's still one more thing."
He looked at her with eyes that were cold, yet unwavering.
"I'm not forcing you to leave."
Moana frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"If you still want to remain my wife, stay in the house as you always have."
Christina glanced at Tristan, but he continued speaking.
"I won't touch you. But you can continue enjoying the life you have now. The house will still be your home, and I'll continue providing everything you need."
Moana looked at him without saying a word.
"In return," Tristan continued, "accept this relationship. Pretend you never saw anything today."
Silence settled over the room once more.
He spoke as calmly as though he were offering the renewal of a business contract.
"I could end everything right now," he continued. "I could simply leave you."
His expression softened slightly.
But it wasn't out of affection.
It was pity.
"I know you have no one else. You're an orphan. Once you leave my house, you won't even have a place to go."
A satisfied smile appeared on Christina's face.
"Mr. Tristan is far too kind," she said as she looked at Moana. "Not every man is willing to continue supporting his ex-wife."
"That's why," Tristan said, "I think this is the best chance I can offer you."
A chance.
The word sounded unbearably insulting.
As though Moana were nothing more than a beggar who should be grateful for being allowed to live under her husband's charity.
Before she could respond, the phone inside her handbag vibrated again.
The name on the screen made her chest tighten once more.
Uncle Ronald.
For several seconds, she simply stared at the screen.
Then she answered the call.
"Moana."
Ronald's warm voice came through immediately.
"My dear, how did it go? Did Tristan like the lunch you brought him?"
Such a simple question.
Yet it felt like a knife twisting deeper into an already open wound.
Moana slowly lifted her eyes.
Her gaze fell on Tristan and Christina, who were still standing side by side without the slightest intention of letting go of each other.
Their fingers were still intertwined.
The corners of Moana's lips slowly curved into a faint, bitter smile.
"Unfortunately..." she said softly, "...Tristan is enjoying a different meal."
Without giving Ronald a chance to ask another question, she ended the call.
Silence once again filled the office.
No one had expected those words to come from the woman who had always spoken so gently.
Moana slipped her phone back into her handbag before taking a slow step forward.
Her shoes sank into the spilled cream soup.
A soft squelching sound echoed as the liquid spread beneath her feet.
She didn't care.
Every step she took felt as though she were crushing every hope she had spent the past three years protecting on her own.
Finally, she stopped directly in front of Tristan.
Only a few inches separated them now.
"I've heard your offer."
Her voice remained astonishingly calm.
"And?"
Moana met his eyes without hesitation.
"I refuse."
A slight frown appeared between Tristan's brows.
"We're getting divorced."
Those four simple words lingered heavily in the air.
Christina looked startled for a brief moment before a triumphant smile returned to her face.
Tristan, however, stared at Moana with an unreadable expression.
"I don't need the chance you're offering me." She drew a slow breath before continuing firmly, "And you don't have to trouble yourself with preparing the divorce papers."
Her gaze never wavered from the man who had been her husband for the past three years.
"I'll take care of it myself."
The words had barely left her lips when a deep voice thundered from the doorway.
"Divorce papers?"
Everyone turned at once.
Standing in the doorway was Ronald Whitmore, breathing heavily. His face was flushed with fury as his eyes swept across the room—the food scattered across the floor, Christina's hand still wrapped around Tristan's arm, and Moana's pale face as she stood there with quiet dignity.
For a brief moment, Ronald said nothing.
But the veins at his temples bulged visibly.
Then, his jaw clenched and his voice filled with barely restrained rage, he strode into the office.
"You bastard...!"
