Chapter 6

The car pulled away without waiting for me, disappearing from sight quickly. I stood in the scorching sun, staring at the tail lights, for a long time.

That red sports car had been my first wedding anniversary gift to him. I’d visited seven 4S stores, compared countless specs—all hoping he’d look even a little surprised when he got it. But he’d just glanced at it and said it was "too flashy," then never touched it again.

Today was the first time he’d driven it.

The dream I’d waited five years to realize—only for him to drive another woman, leaving me alone by the side of the road.

So you see, Brian Locke. I won’t wait for you forever. I don’t have to wait for you.

I walked into the French restaurant and ordered my favorite Wellington steak and Burgundy. The clink of knife and fork was pleasant. The sun outside was perfect. Without him, the meal tasted surprisingly good.

He called three times—more than he’d ever called before. I watched the screen go dark each time, not answering once.

On my first day at the beach, I tried every activity I’d wanted to do. I got soaked on the banana boat, screamed into the wind on a jet ski, watched the sunset from the rocks. Even the sea breeze smelled like freedom. It turned out—I could live a vibrant life without him.

On the evening of the second day, I was walking along the beach when I saw Brian in the distance. He was carrying several grocery bags, wiping Joanne Morgan’s mouth with a tissue—natural, intimate.

When he saw me, he paused mid-wipe, then walked over quickly: "When did you get here? Why didn’t you leave a message? Morgan and I looked for you everywhere yesterday. She’s still recovering from her miscarriage and twisted her ankle—running around was hard on her—"

I sneered inwardly. What about me? I’d been tossed back and forth in the car for five hours because of her. Wasn’t I tired? The words stuck in my throat, but I swallowed them down. What was the point of arguing?

I turned away expressionless, trying to walk around them toward the water.

But Joanne Morgan ran after me, her voice low, pride oozing from every word: "Ms. Jade, you’re so boring. No matter how long you waste on Brian Locke, his heart will only be with me."

I laughed, looking at her face—so like Lily Bennett’s: "Only with you? You’ve been with him this long and still don’t know you’re just a replacement?"

Her face fell instantly, like a popped balloon. But seeing her like that gave me no satisfaction—only boredom.

I kicked at the water as I walked. Suddenly, a force yanked me forward—my feet slipped, and my body fell weightless!

Below was a cliff in the sea—dark, churning water, icy cold.

"Ms. Jade, you’re so annoying with that high-and-mighty attitude," Joanne Morgan’s voice came from above, maliciously sweet. "Brian Locke said you can’t swim very well. I wonder if this will teach you a lesson~"

She let go of my arm, then swam nimbly toward the shore.

The cold water engulfed me instantly. I only knew how to doggy paddle, and panic made me flail. I choked on salty seawater, struggling to reach the shore, but an undertow pulled me farther out.

Joanne Morgan’s screams for help came from nearby—she’d been caught in the current too. But she was better than me, at least able to call for help and struggle properly.

Through blurry eyes, I saw Brian rushing over. He swam fast, like an arrow, splashing water everywhere.

I clung to him like a lifeline when he got close, trying to lift my head to breathe.

But he dumped my hand—even pushed me away. Before I could catch my breath, I was pushed back under the water.

Suffocation wrapped around me like vines, my lungs burning. This time, I had no strength left to struggle. I watched him hold Joanne Morgan steadily, swimming away with her—determined, no hesitation.

Darkness crept in, and I felt myself sinking into the deep... So this was death—light, like a feather.

"Ms. Jade? Ms. Jade? How do you feel?"

I spat out a mouthful of seawater and opened my eyes. The bright sun made me squint. I was lying on the beach, two soaking wet bodyguards beside me. They’d been following me from a distance, and had rescued me just in time.

I held the female bodyguard’s hand tightly, staring at the blue sky above, until my eyes stung and a tear finally slipped down my cheek.

"Sophia Reed!"

Brian pushed through the crowd and rushed over. When he saw I was okay, he visibly relaxed. He knelt down, reaching for me: "Just now, I..."

I turned my head away from his hand and said to the bodyguards: "Take me back to the hotel. Help me up—I have no strength."

But he put his arm around my waist, his tone firm and unyielding: "I’ll take you."

I pushed him hard, but his arm was like iron.

I laughed, laughing until tears came: "Fine. Joanne Morgan deliberately pushed me into the sea. That’s attempted murder. Call the police and arrest her, and I’ll let you take me."

His face darkened instantly, refusing without hesitation: "She saw you were in a bad mood and tried to pull you into the water to cheer you up. She didn’t know there was a cliff. You’re misunderstanding her."

The answer I’d expected. I should have known—Joanne Morgan would always be innocent in his eyes.

I said each word slowly: "Then stay. Away. From me."

I looked into his eyes. I saw panic I’d never seen before, even a trace of... hurt? But most of all, I saw his defense of Joanne Morgan. That sharp, hateful gaze must have stung him too. The strength in his arm around my waist suddenly slackened, like he’d lost his energy.

"Brian Locke..." Joanne Morgan’s tearful voice came from behind. He turned to look at her instinctively.

When he turned back, I’d already stood up with the bodyguards’ help, walking toward the hotel step by step.

I didn’t look back. I knew that thin figure must have stabbed him in the heart at last. But so what? It was too late. Everything was too late.

That evening, Joanne Morgan knocked on my door. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying: "Who’s Tara? When he saved me this afternoon, he kept calling me ‘Tara’."

I froze for a moment, lowering my hand to touch a bruise on my arm—from when he’d pushed me away in the sea, hitting a rock.

"His first love. She drowned herself," I said flatly.

"I’m Tara’s replacement? No wonder he..." Her expression went blank for a moment, then she narrowed her eyes, like she’d figured something out: "So what if I’m a replacement? The dead can’t compete with the living."

She looked at me, her tone triumphant: "Ms. Jade, at least I have a face that can win. You have nothing. People who can’t do anything should step aside."

I looked at her, suddenly finding it ridiculous.

Yes, I had nothing left. No trace of the girl who’d loved him with all her heart, no baby who’d never been born, no last shred of hope for him.

But because I had nothing left—I could finally walk away unencumbered, leaving this cage that had wasted five years of my youth.

I closed the door, shutting out her voice. The sound of waves outside was soft, like a farewell song.

Tomorrow was the day of the divorce.