At first, I used to feel sad about Icarus's affair.
I stared at that photo for two nights, crying, but then I felt like he didn't deserve my tears.
I wandered around the campus where we once dated, standing by the lake, listening to the ripples in the water.
I remembered when he first held my hand, his gaze so gentle as he placed it on his chest and whispered:
"Lavinia, in this life, there will only be you by my side."
It was also that night that I met James.
He looked a lot like Icarus, that same helpless and lost expression, similar to the way Icarus looked when his mother was ill—vulnerable.
Without hesitation, I helped him—using Icarus's money.
Icarus knew, but he didn't dare to interfere.
All he could do was hold me at night and cry.
He asked me, "Lavinia, did you find someone who looks so much like me to punish me?"
"You succeeded. I'm so sad and hurt now. I'd rather you just kill me... Please stop tormenting me. Please."
James and I didn't do anything, though.
Icarus didn't want to divorce me. There were still moral entanglements between us.
Since I was free at work, I learned how to cook. I put a black, gloppy mess in front of James, and he gave me a strange look before diplomatically saying:
"Lavy, has anyone ever told you that you're not suited to cooking?"
My expression froze.
Someone had.
Icarus.
I only made it once. He took a bite, and the smile on his face faltered. He helplessly told me:
"Lavinia, from now on, let me cook for our family, okay?"
...
Maybe it was because I was thinking about him. That night when I returned home, Icarus was sitting on the couch, watching as our son crawled on the carpet.
He was already nine months old.
I stared at him for a moment before saying slowly, "He's grown up."
Kids grow up so quickly.
Icarus had the nanny take him away.
He walked over quickly, his previously cloudy eyes now shining with a bit of light.
He wanted to hug me but hesitated, clutching the sleeve of his shirt tightly. He said softly:
"Lavinia, you're back."
"I've brought you the divorce papers." I said.
His kind expression cracked instantly.
I watched with a strange sense of satisfaction, a twisted feeling of fulfillment rising in me. I couldn't help but press on:
"Icarus, do you think this is worth it?"
"So you want a divorce and to be with your new boyfriend, is that it?"
Icarus lowered his gaze, his voice very soft:
"Is it that you really like this type of appearance? Even if you find someone else, you still want them to look like me?"
"It's none of your—"
"Lavinia."
Icarus interrupted me, his tone suddenly cold and ominous:
"Don't push me."
"I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to make you sad... but don't push me. I won't let that beast off the hook."
"I'm no good person, you know that."
Where would one find a good businessmen?
His gaze sent chills down my spine.
Standing tall in the empty villa, he looked at me like a bird in a cage.
The villa was my prison.
Even though we started at the same point, he was climbing higher, and I was slipping lower, little by little, becoming a puppet in his hands.
"If you dare touch James, I'll take your child and jump off the building of your company with him..."
Tears welled up, and a wave of dread washed over me, filling my heart with panic.
I pushed Icarus away again, ignoring his increasingly cold gaze, and furiously cursed at him:
"Why don't you just die, Icarus, you bastard! Why don't you just die!"
