Chapter 1
Category:
Romance
Author:
NoemiWords:753Update time:25/05/26 20:02:28
I received the news of Lucian's suicide the day after our divorce.
I was dragging my suitcase through the airport, about to fly to Australia and start a new life.
His mother's voice was pleading. "Marie, please, just come back to see him one last time. Please."
"One last time," she promised. "I won't bother you again after this. I just don't want him to leave this world so alone."
It wasn't until I saw Lucian's body that the reality hit me—it was almost impossible to believe.
His pale face was a stark contrast against the dim light, every feature etched with the wear of countless battles. His wrists bore dark, jagged marks, remnants of old bloodstains that refused to fade. Scattered across his body were numerous scars, each one telling a silent story of pain, survival, and the ruthless passage of time.
We had been married for five years, but the time we actually spent together was minuscule. I never noticed how deep his depression had become, how he had resorted to self-harm repeatedly.
Since I filed for divorce, Lucian had been calm, not a word of pleading, as if our five-year marriage had been nothing more than a hollow formality. The last time I saw him, he signed the divorce papers without even blinking.
It was all so indifferent.
Even though I repeatedly told him the fault was mine, that I would leave without a penny if he could simply take care of the twins—those unexpected children—I still found myself with half of the family assets.
I blamed it on his good character.
After all, my parents had always encouraged me to marry him for that very reason.
"Marie, in families like ours, love is secondary. What matters is that he's a good man, never dallying with others."
But now, he lay quietly before me, his hand tightly clutching the wedding ring he had placed on my finger years ago.
His mother's eyes were red as she tried, in vain, to pry open his hand.
His body was sent for cremation, and his mother, face heavy with grief, whispered, "I always thought, when you married him, he'd get better. He loved you in secret for all these years…"