Fireworks Fade, Lovers Depart

"Are you listening to me?" The low voice murmured in her ear. Peter pressed his palm to her forehead, slick with cold sweat.

A furrow deepened between his brows. "You look terrible. I’ll have the driver take you home."

Amanda hurried over on stiletto heels, using her skirt as cover to grind her heel viciously into Carolyn’s foot. "Peter, hurry! Jacob wants to show you samples from the new mine!"

Carolyn tried to step back, but a searing pain twisted suddenly in her stomach.

She bit down hard on her lip, yet a low groan escaped.

Peter shook off Amanda’s hand at once and wrapped an arm around Carolyn’s swaying waist. "To the lounge. I’ll call a doctor."

He scooped her into his arms. She caught only a glimpse of the jealousy and venom in Amanda’s eyes before he carried her away.

In the lounge, the leather couch still held the faint scent of cologne from its last occupant. Peter used a damp towel to wipe the cold sweat from her neck.

*Bang!* The door flew open. Amanda stormed in, holding up the wine-stained hem of her dress, a trembling waiter trailing behind.

"Peter, look! This clumsy fool just ruined my three-hundred-thousand-dollar gown!"

Voice tearful, she threw herself against his chest. "Take me to change!"

Carolyn watched as the wine soaked into the fabric of Peter’s shirt. Yet the man who was usually so fastidious only sighed in resignation.

He turned and gave Carolyn a brief nod, then led Amanda out without another word.

The moment the door clicked shut, Carolyn grabbed her clutch and bolted.

Amanda’s silvery laughter drifted from the far end of the corridor. Pressing a hand hard against her stomach, Carolyn caught a glimpse of her own deathly pale face in a mirrored wall panel—how pathetic. She’d actually believed that brief tenderness was genuine.

It started pouring on the way home.

By the time the rain had soaked through her qipao, she was finally back.

Staring at the medical report tucked into her suitcase lining, Carolyn couldn’t understand how Peter’s heart had changed faster than her cancer could metastasize.

In just ten more days, it would all be over between them. Whether she lived or died remained unknown.

As she stuffed the last of her everyday clothes into the suitcase, an engine pulled up downstairs. Amanda’s petulant complaint drifted up through the rain. "That painting in the foyer is hideous! Let’s replace it tomorrow!"

"Whatever you want," Peter’s voice sounded tired. "Butler, do as Amanda asks."

Carolyn froze.

That abstract painting was something they’d bought from a street gallery on their first date. Back then, Peter had spun her around on the spiral staircase, promising they’d fill every blank space with their memories.

She walked out of her room.

Amanda’s LV suitcase was rolling right over the painting’s frame. The butler directed workers to hang her Chanel coats throughout the walk-in closet.

"And get rid of the pothos on the balcony. The soil has bugs—it’s disgusting."

Amanda kicked aside the Lego castle in the corner—the wedding chapel they’d spent an entire night building together.

Carolyn moved to pick it up, but before she could take a step, she heard Peter say, "The Manor renovations are finished. The things here… none of it matters anymore."

In just one hour, every trace of her had been erased from this home. A home bought specifically for the two of them, to make her commute to school easier.

"Why did you leave in such a hurry earlier? Are you feeling alright? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Peter asked, frowning at Carolyn where she stood frozen.

She met his gaze directly, seeing only hypocrisy and disgust behind the concern in his eyes.

"I’m fine. Just tired. I’m going to rest."

Locking her bedroom door, she felt her phone buzz with a text from the Research Institute.

**[Pre-op check at 8 AM tomorrow. Do not eat.]**

Her eyes fell on the velvet box she’d found in the closet while packing. It was filled with little handwritten notes Peter had included with every gift over the years.

She used to think it was him—a man of few words—racking his brains to express himself. Now she realized he’d probably just copied them from the internet.

Outside her door, hesitant footsteps paused for a long moment in the silence, then finally faded toward Amanda’s room.

Slowly, Carolyn tore the notes to shreds. She sat there through the night, unmoving.

Until dawn light seeped through the gap in the curtains.

She looked around this cage of illusions and mirages. The suitcase wheels rolled over the torn paper, as if grinding her heart to dust along with it.