The Immortal Dying Love

Seraphina Borgia came home two hours early. The moment she walked in, she heard laughter coming from inside.

"You really look like a family of three! Janna made this bracelet herself, right? Mr. Talbot, help Susan put it on!"

Seraphina's fingers tightened around her purse strap.

She saw Michael Talbot lean down slightly, fastening a shell necklace around Susan Dixon's neck, his expression showing a tenderness she hadn't seen in a long time.

The little girl beside them smiled with her eyes curving into crescents: "Happy birthday!"

Then she stood on her tiptoes and kissed the woman on the cheek.

They looked happy, just like a family of three.

Seraphina stood there frozen, feeling like a thin wire was tightening around her chest, making it hard to breathe.

Today was supposed to be their family's special day—established after Janna Talbot was born to create family harmony and help Janna feel more love from both parents. Yet here was her husband and daughter celebrating another woman's birthday at home.

Actually, she had seen this necklace recently and thought Janna had made it for her. Turns out she was being presumptuous.

But then again, she was used to it by now.

Susan was the daughter of Michael's mentor. Two months ago, she was suddenly diagnosed with a terminal illness and given only six months to live.

She said she wanted to be closer to Michael, so Michael gave her a job at his company.

She said she wanted to make up for the regret of not being together back then, so Michael went with her to take wedding photos.

She said she wanted to travel, so Michael accompanied her abroad for half a month.

At first, Seraphina couldn't understand it at all. She fought with him about it, but he just told her to be understanding—he had to repay his mentor's kindness.

Even Janna often told her not to be petty, since Susan only had three months left.

Thinking about this, Seraphina's heart ached with a dull pain again.

She wiped away her tears and turned to leave, but accidentally bumped into the door.

Susan looked over first, and when she saw her, her smile deepened: "Seraphina, you're home?"

Seraphina stood there in a faded beige windbreaker, carrying groceries she'd just bought from the supermarket.

Everyone was looking at her with strange expressions.

"Mom?"

Janna's smile faded: "Why are you home so early today? Didn't I tell you to come back late today?"

She pouted: "Susan's having her birthday party. You suddenly coming back like this is such a buzzkill."

Seraphina's fingertips trembled, stung by those words.

Janna was the child she had worked so hard to give birth to. When Janna was little and weak, constantly getting sick, she was the one who carried her back and forth in hospital corridors, holding her for entire nights.

But now Janna was looking at her like she was an unwelcome outsider.

"Janna."

Michael's cool gaze swept over Janna lightly: "You can't talk to your mother like that."

"Oh." Janna responded sullenly.

Susan's expression shifted, and she stood up at just the right moment, smiling warmly: "Seraphina, come sit down, don't just stand there."

She walked over to take Seraphina's hand.

Seraphina instinctively pulled her hand back.

Susan's hand froze in mid-air, tears instantly welling up in her eyes: "Seraphina, are you mad at me? It's my fault, my fault. I didn't plan to celebrate my birthday, but I didn't expect Janna and Michael to remember, and to throw me a party at your house..."

"Oh, Seraphina." She suddenly looked up, smiling innocently: "I remember today is your family's special day! What a coincidence!"

The room fell silent for a moment.

Seraphina dug her nails into her palm and looked at her without saying anything.

Susan smiled and turned to Janna: "Janna, for today's family special day, did you prepare a gift for your mom?"

Janna froze, seemingly having forgotten about today's occasion.

"Don't tell me you forgot?"

Susan said seriously: "Your mom worked so hard giving birth to you and raising you. You need to know how to be grateful, okay?"

Janna snapped out of it and shook her head carelessly: "I forgot. Besides, my mom doesn't care about these things anyway."

She looked at Seraphina: "Mom, you're not going to be mad just because we didn't spend time with you today, right? Susan's not well, so we should spend more time with her. If you get mad about this, that would be really petty!"

Seraphina's nails dug into her palm. Mocking glances came from all around, as if crushing her dignity.

"Alright, Janna, don't talk to your mother like that."

Susan picked up a glass of wine and walked over with a smile: "Here's to you, Seraphina."

She held the wine glass out to Seraphina.

Before Seraphina could take it, the glass suddenly slipped from Susan's hand, and red wine spilled all over her.

"Susan!"

Michael rushed over and caught Susan, his expression anxious: "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"No, no," Susan shook her head: "I didn't hold it steady. It's not Seraphina's fault."

Michael looked at Seraphina, his gaze cold as ice.

"Seraphina, you've gone too far."

Seraphina looked at him, bitterness rising in her throat: "I didn't push her."

"Apologize."

Michael cut her off, his eyes cold as if covered with a layer of ice.

Seraphina froze: "What did you say?"

"I said, apologize to Susan."

Seraphina's chest tightened. She felt all the blood in her body turn cold.

Seven years of marriage. She had given up her job for him, given up her future, given up everything.

When his mother was sick, she took care of her for half a year. When their daughter had a high fever and was hospitalized, she didn't sleep for three days and nights. He treated home like a hotel, but she never complained once.

Yet Michael had always been indifferent to her.

She had always thought he was like that with everyone.

But now, seeing him like this, she realized he had this side too.

Anxious, losing his composure, showing unconditional favoritism and protection.

"No need, Michael." Susan tugged at his sleeve: "Seraphina doesn't like me, I know. I understand. After all, I don't have much time left, and she probably feels like I'm taking you away from them..."

"You haven't taken anyone away." Michael held her hand, his voice softening: "Don't overthink it."

He turned to look at Seraphina.

"Give her your bracelet as a birthday present, and as an apology for your rudeness today."

Seraphina's lips lost color, her fingers trembling.

The bracelet on her wrist—he had woven it for her by hand in the first year of their marriage.

She had worn it for seven years, never taking it off.

And now, he wanted to give it to Susan?

"Michael, do I really have to give it?"

"You really have to." Michael's answer came without hesitation.

Seraphina closed her eyes hard, her throat feeling blocked by a burning stone.

"Fine."

She lowered her eyes and slowly removed the bracelet from her wrist.

Her fingertips trembled as she handed it over.

Michael took it and carefully fastened the bracelet around Susan's wrist.

"Come on, let's go cut the cake."

Someone called out just then, and people started moving to the other side.

Seraphina looked at Michael—black shirt, black dress pants, broad shoulders and narrow waist. Even just standing there, he seemed as distant and unreachable as a snow-capped mountain.

Perfect in every way.

Except for one thing—he didn't love her.

Seven years.

It was time for her to wake up.

Her clenched fists suddenly relaxed. Looking at his back, she spoke with her beautiful lips.

"Michael, let's get a divorce."