Chapter 7

The busy signal blared suddenly in her ear—the other party had hung up without even bothering with a goodbye.

Elena gripped her phone, her expression dark enough to wring water from.

Kian's friends were all wealthy and influential. They'd always followed his lead and looked down on her from the bottom of their hearts—this "useless Mrs. Lancaster with ruined hands."

Their hostility was never subtle. They'd always made it glaringly clear: You're not good enough for him.

At first, she'd gotten angry too, complaining to Kian with reddened eyes. But he'd only ever rubbed the bridge of his nose. "That's just how they talk. They don't mean any harm. Why bother getting worked up over it?"

And then he'd turn right back to work.

He was too busy, managing countless affairs. Her little grievances were trivial in his eyes—not worth noticing, not worth the effort.

After it happened enough times, Elena learned to swallow all her emotions and let it go. At most, she'd try to avoid appearing at events with his friends—less trouble for herself, less awkwardness for him.

"Mrs. Lancaster, is that Mr. Lancaster calling?"

Maggie came upstairs carrying a bowl of soup. "Mr. Lancaster said with your condition right now, this will warm your stomach."

Elena's chest suddenly felt like something had gently bumped against it.

That was how Kian was—he'd carefully instruct Maggie to prepare nourishing food, silently hand her a heating pad when she was curled up in pain from cramps.

As her teacher had said, he was fundamentally a good man. Aside from not loving her, he was nearly flawless.

But it was precisely that "not loving" that stood like an invisible chasm between them.

Elena rubbed her tense brow. If he didn't love her, why trap them both in a marriage? She'd never insisted he had to marry her.

"He's drunk. I'm going to pick him up." She stood, her voice so calm it revealed no emotion.

"What?" Maggie looked confused, the bowl pausing mid-air. "Mr. Lancaster always knows his limits. He never overdoes it at the table. How could he get drunk?"

Elena naturally knew that. Kian held his liquor well and was extremely controlled. He'd never lost his composure in business settings.

But Chloe was the exception. The last time he'd gotten drunk—hadn't that been because of Chloe too?

Elena shook her head, forcing herself not to overthink. She just told Maggie, "Make some hangover soup. I'll go check on him."

With that, she grabbed her coat and took a car to the upscale private restaurant.

The door to the private room was left slightly ajar. Laughter and chatter spilled through the crack, making Elena feel uncomfortable all over.

She instinctively yanked her sleeves down hard, gripping the fabric with her fingertips and pressing it firmly against the backs of her hands, desperately trying to cover the scars.

After doing all this, Elena took a deep breath, suppressing the tightness in her chest. She'd just raised her hand to push the door when an excited voice from inside burst through without warning:

"Kian, Chloe's back now. When are you going to divorce that cripple and be with Chloe?"

The moment those words landed, the entire room erupted in agreement. "Exactly! We've already got our gifts ready—just waiting to celebrate your wedding!"

All the blood in Elena's body instantly froze. Her breathing felt like it was being crushed by an iron hand. Her chest ached with suffocating pressure. She could barely stand.

No sound came from Kian.

He had his back to the door. Elena couldn't see his expression, but she had a perfect view of Chloe's barely concealed shyness and the triumphant smile at the corners of her mouth.

Chloe lightly covered her lips, her tone soft and sweet, her hand deliberately brushing over her belly, her face flushed. "Don't talk nonsense—you've all had too much to drink. I'll remember about the gifts. When there's really something to celebrate, I'll come collect them."

Jasper, who idolized Kian the most, immediately slammed the table, his tone cutting and merciless. "Everyone knows how much Kian loved you back then! If Elena hadn't stolen him away and guilt-tripped Kian, your kids would be old enough to buy soy sauce by now!"

"Stole him away." "Guilt-trip." "Cripple."

Each word was a knife, carving into Elena's heart.

She shook with rage, her vision swimming. Her legs gave out. Her shoulder slammed hard into the door of the private room.

The door flew open.

The instant the door burst open, the laughter and merriment stopped cold. Then it transformed into naked, contemptuous stares that pierced Elena like needles.

"Tch, like a bad penny. Follows him everywhere."

"Does she even know what kind of place this is? Like she belongs here."

Jasper had already been holding back anger. Seeing her crash through everything, he slammed the table and shot to his feet, pointing at Elena's nose and shouting, his tone cutting to the extreme:

"The leech has arrived?"

"Perfect. I've got a few things to ask you."

The phone call—he'd been the one to make it.

"Do you have any shame?! You're an embarrassment, and yet you insist on coming here to ruin everything! If you hadn't schemed and clung to Kian back then, he would've been with Chloe ages ago. How would it ever be your turn to occupy the position of Mrs. Lancaster and be an eyesore? You're nothing but dead weight. A cripple. Haven't you ruined Kian's life enough already?!"

His words were like a blade dipped in ice, slashing viciously into Elena's heart.

Vile insults poured down on her from every direction. Elena stood in the doorway like a criminal being stripped and publicly humiliated. Her ears rang. Her vision blurred.

Chloe stepped forward at just the right moment, gently tugging on Jasper's sleeve with feigned tenderness, her voice soft but every word salting Elena's wounds. "Jasper, don't say that. Elena was just worried about Kian. She just shouldn't have rushed over here and made everyone uncomfortable."

One light sentence sealed Elena's humiliation as self-inflicted.

And Kian stood just a few steps away, brow furrowed, coldly observing the entire time. Not one word of defense. Not a single glance. He let everyone hurl the most vicious accusations at his wife.

Elena looked at his indifferent profile. The humiliation and despair in her chest surged to their peak. She could barely find the strength to keep standing.

She looked at Kian, her voice as calm as his. "Kian… do you think that too?"

Kian frowned. "Don't overthink it."

"If you really want to be with Chloe, I can divorce you. I'll make it easy for you both."

The moment those words left her mouth, the entire room fell into deathly silence. Everyone froze, disbelief written across their faces.

In their eyes, Elena had always been submissive—like a turtle hiding in its shell, clinging desperately to her position as the young Mrs. Lancaster. No one had expected her to actually propose divorce.

Kian's expression finally changed. "Elena, stop throwing a tantrum. Go home. Now."

The atmosphere was rigid, almost frozen.

Mason, standing in the corner, got to his feet and loosened his tie. "This is boring. I'm leaving."

His words seemed to open a floodgate. The others immediately followed with sneers and complaints, their voices dripping with disgust:

"A perfectly good gathering, completely ruined by her. So annoying."

"We were having such a good time. She wrecked the whole mood."

"Let's just call it a night. Just looking at her is irritating."

No one looked at her. No one asked if she was hurt, if she was okay.

Outside, a torrential downpour had started at some point. Fat raindrops hammered against the windows with a relentless clatter.

Chloe pressed a hand to her stomach. "Kian, I don't feel well…"

Kian walked straight out, protectively guiding Chloe, his tone gentle and patient in a way Elena had never heard. "The rain's heavy. I'll take you home."

As he passed Elena, his voice lowered. "Wait here. I'll have Ryan come get you."

He left.

Elena didn't stay in the suffocating private room either.

She watched with her own eyes as her husband closed the car door. The car drove into the rain without hesitation, leaving her completely and utterly abandoned in the pouring rain.

Elena's injured hand was exposed to the downpour. Icy rainwater seeped into her joints. Bone-deep pain spread all the way to her heart. Every finger stiffened and trembled.

She stood in the rain, soaked through, utterly disheveled, so despairing she could barely breathe.

Just then, a black umbrella suddenly opened steadily above her head.