When the moon sinks and the shadows are scattered horizontally and diagonally

Kathleen bit down hard on her lower lip, the metallic tang of blood spreading in her mouth.

She gave a faint nod, her voice barely a whisper. “It was my choice. Now that you’ve found her, I’ll honor our agreement. I’ll file for divorce.”

David studied her pale face, his gaze lingering for a moment before his tone flattened. “Good. It’s sensible of you.”

Standing there, watching them, Kathleen felt utterly ridiculous.

Seven years of love. Seven years of waiting. And in the end, it had all been nothing but a one-sided performance—a solo act of her own delusion.

She was about to leave when a waiter with a tray suddenly slipped, crashing straight into her.

The impact was too sudden, too strong. She stumbled and fell, her forehead striking a pillar with a sickening thud.

“Ms. Kathleen! Are you all right?”

Emily tugged at David’s sleeve, a flicker of amusement barely concealed in her eyes. “Mr. David, you should help her up.”

David’s gaze shifted to Kathleen. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. “I’ve found you now. Other women’s affairs have nothing to do with me.”

The words cut like a blunt knife, sawing slowly into her heart.

Warm liquid trickled down her temple, blurring her vision.

The commotion quickly drew the attention of the surrounding guests.

“Oh my god, she’s bleeding! Why isn’t Mr. David helping her?”

“What’s going on? Who’s the woman with Mr. David?”

Their stares—sympathetic, mocking, voyeuristic—pressed down on her, suffocating.

Kathleen lifted her head. Through a hazy red film, she saw the two figures standing close together not far away.

David was leaning down, speaking softly to Emily. His fingers gently brushed a stray hair from her shoulder. That tenderness… it was something she had never received, not once in all seven years.

Her heart clenched as if caught in a vise, the pain stealing her breath.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed herself up against the cold pillar. Without another glance at them, without acknowledging the stares around her, she walked out of the banquet hall, one deliberate step at a time.

Outside, she took a deep breath and dialed a number.

A familiar, surprised voice answered almost immediately. “Kathleen?!”

“Julie,” Kathleen’s voice was weak but steady. “Is your studio still willing to take me?”

“Of course we are!” The voice on the other end grew even more excited. “But I thought you were staying for your husband. Why the sudden—”

“I’m getting a divorce,” Kathleen cut in, her tone eerily calm, as if discussing someone else’s life.

A brief silence followed, then a gentle reply. “Okay. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Julie was her college friend who ran a painting studio in New York. She’d urged Kathleen to come over again and again, insisting her talent shouldn’t be buried.

But Kathleen’s mind had been filled with David. She’d long since tossed her beloved oil paints into some forgotten corner.

She touched her chest. It had been packed full of her obsession with David. Now, it was time to live a life of her own.

Kathleen returned to her apartment near the office. After tending to her wound, the tears finally came—falling like a broken string of pearls. She cried until the sky outside lightened to the pale gray of dawn, her eyes swollen and puffy, before she finally forced herself to get up.

The moment she stepped into the lobby of Logan Group that morning, her assistant hurried over. “Vice President Kathleen, the Chairman wants to see you in his office.”

She rubbed her temples. News of last night must have reached her father’s ears. A scolding was probably unavoidable.

Her mother had passed away when she was young. She and her father had never been close.

In his eyes, her marriage to David was never just about feelings. It was the keystone of the alliance between the Logan and Sterling families.

But as she reached his office door, she heard the sound of cheerful laughter from within.