Eight Chances to Forgive You

Hearing her response, Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward, pulling Alyssa into a tight embrace, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Let’s keep it, okay? These are the records of our love. If you don’t have time to manage it, I can find someone to take care of the account for you.”

“Just think—when we’re old, sitting by the lake, looking back at these memories, it’ll make us so happy.”

He was still weaving dreams of their future together, completely unaware that he had already destroyed it with his own hands.

Alyssa mocked him silently in her heart, mentally marking this as the fifth betrayal. Outwardly, she nodded in agreement, knowing that if she didn’t, Ivan would become suspicious. All she could do now was pray he would use up all eight of his chances quickly so she could finally walk away.

Breaking free from his embrace, she sneezed lightly and feigned curiosity.

“Where did you go just now? Why is there such a chill clinging to you?”

Ivan immediately looked aggrieved, like a puppy seeking comfort. He sighed.

“There was an urgent issue at the office, so I had to go out and handle it. It’s such a pity—I didn’t get to hold my baby while sleeping tonight.”

“But you’re my top priority. The moment I received your message, I dropped everything and rushed back. Nothing is more important than you.”

His affectionate words flowed effortlessly, accompanied by an Oscar-worthy performance. No wonder he had fooled her for so many years.

In the days that followed, Ivan took her casual remark about being “busy” to heart. He personally handled all the arrangements for their upcoming wedding. When the wedding planners came to discuss details at their home, he suggested various ideas that catered to her preferences—everything from the color scheme of the venue and nighttime fireworks to the type of flowers and even the texture of the carpet to ensure it wouldn’t trip her up.

Alyssa occasionally came downstairs to observe, only to be swept into his arms, fussed over, and fed fruit. The wedding planning team often cast her envious glances, commenting, “President McCartney and Miss Saunders share such a beautiful relationship. His love for her is written all over his face.”

“Miss Saunders, you’re so lucky. Men like President McCartney—handsome, wealthy, and devoted—are rare. He’ll surely make a great father someday, too.”

Hearing this, Ivan furrowed his brows, a hint of disapproval in his expression.

“You’ve got it wrong. I’m the lucky one—lucky that Alyssa chose me.”

“As for children, that’s entirely up to her. She’s afraid of pain, and I would never force her.”

A wave of flattery followed his words, but no one noticed Alyssa’s indifferent expression throughout, as if she were merely an outsider.

After sitting with them for a while, she found the noise unbearable and quietly retreated to her room.

An hour later, Ivan entered the room, wrapping his arms around her and acting spoiled.

“Aly, there’s a friend’s birthday party tonight. Will you come with me? I want to introduce you to the people in my circle.”

Alyssa had never liked such occasions. Even after years with Ivan, she still felt out of place among his social circle.

Just as she was about to decline, Ivan nuzzled into her embrace, his eyes shimmering with faux tears.

“Please, Aly. Everyone else will be bringing their partners. If I go alone, I’ll look so pitiful.”

The words she was about to say caught in her throat. After a moment’s hesitation, she reminded herself that she hadn’t left him entirely yet. For now, she still had to keep up appearances.

Seeing her nod in agreement, Ivan’s face lit up with joy. He waved his hand, and a professional styling team filed into the room.

Gorgeous, expensive jewelry and designer outfits dazzled her. Alyssa didn’t resist, allowing the team to work on her. Occasionally, she nodded to indicate her approval, though her interest was minimal.

When they arrived at the party, hand in hand, all eyes turned to them.