chapter 2

"I don't want Mom anymore! She only bosses me around!"

Drawing a deep breath, I braced myself—but the words still sliced through me like a blade.

"Fine. Have it your way."

As I dragged my suitcase toward the door, Daniel reached out to stop me.

"Are you really taking a kid’s tantrum seriously? Luna, quit making a scene! It’s just a birthday. If it means that much, we’ll celebrate again tomorrow—just the three of us."

"No need." I brushed his hand aside. "You and Emily can celebrate instead."

With that, I marched outside.

Daniel’s glare burned into my back.

"Must you be like this? Walk out today, and don’t bother coming back."

"Then please, Mr. Scott, prepare the divorce papers promptly."

I didn't stop walking and brushed right past him.

His final words—"Fine, Luna. Don’t regret this"—failed to slow my steps.

On the street, I watched crowds pass by, struck by the irony.

Once, Daniel and I had been those hand-in-hand strollers, wandering aimlessly through the city.

He’d chatter endlessly, and I’d tease him for his talkativeness.

"I only talk this much with you," he'd say proudly.

I’d believed that was love.

But I couldn’t recall when he’d stopped replying to my texts, when his phone calls had gone unanswered.

He’d grown colder, and I wasn’t the one he shared his world with anymore.

When we met, I’d known nothing of his background.

His family had pressured him to marry Emily, but he’d rebelled, cutting ties with them and working odd jobs.

That’s where our story began.

He confessed he’d fallen for me, claiming my tenacity had captivated him from the very first glance.

Initially, I had no appetite for romance and rebuffed his advances time and again.

Yet he persisted unwaveringly, going to great lengths to weave small kindnesses into my days.

His perseverance wore down my defenses, and at last, I let my guard fall.

The moment I said yes, he scooped me into his arms with a whoop of triumph, vowing he’d never break my trust.

I took his words to heart.

We started "D&L Tech" together, naming it after both of us.

Just as our business thrived, I’d met his mother—and realized the chasm between us.

His parents looked down on me, demanding he leave me.

I’d tried to walk away, but he’d found me.

"I can give up everything except you," he’d said, eyes burning. Looking at this man who only had me in his eyes, I compromised.

I’d gambled on his love, telling him, "If you stop loving me, tell me. I’ll leave."

He’d kissed me softly. "That’ll never happen.

"If the one beside me in the future isn't you, then all my efforts will have been in vain!"

Back then, Daniel's love for me burned so brightly.

He’d married me despite all opposition.

No one blessed our union, but I’d been happy—convinced true love conquered all.

Back then, I was the sun around which his world revolved.

He convinced me that true love wasn’t just a fairy tale—until our forever fell apart, scattered like stardust in the void of his once-all-encompassing universe.

I’d envisioned our divorce as a clean break, a mere formality.

Yet a month after signing the papers, the sudden ring of my phone shattered that illusion.

It was my son’s teacher.

"Mrs. Scott? Why didn’t you attend the parent-teacher meeting? You can’t neglect your child’s education!"

Listening to the scolding, a truth hit me: for years, I’d been the only one orbiting our son.

Daniel’s family had never wanted the baby; I’d insisted on keeping him, quitting my job, isolating myself to raise him.

Day and night, I’d been by his side.