The CEO’s Hidden Bride: Leaving After 2555 Days - Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Three years had passed, and Lucas Sinclair stood once more in the spotlight.
But to everyone's shock, he showed no reaction at all. No bitterness, no pain, no humiliation—nothing of what they had anticipated.
Instead, there was only quiet resignation, the kind that came from a man who had endured everything and finally made peace with it.
His gaze drifted across the crowded room, landing on Isabella Prescott, frozen on stage. Her face was ghostly pale. She was the woman he had loved for years but could never truly hold onto—the bride who had abandoned him on their wedding day.
Now, she felt like a stranger. As if he was seeing her for the very first time. And yet, they had known each other for eighteen years.
Amid the hushed murmurs of the crowd, Lucas spoke, his voice steady. "I heard every word, loud and clear. Thanks for finally being honest with me, Isabella."
He didn’t sound accusatory. Just indifferent, like he was discussing the weather.
Watching his reaction, his friends on stage couldn’t help but recall the day Evelyn Winslow had first appeared before them three years ago.
She had worn the same expression, spoken in the same calm tone. "I'm single right now. If you don’t mind, Lucas, I could be your bride."
After addressing the room with composed finality, Lucas glanced down. A faint smile touched his lips.
His thoughts were with Evelyn. Only now did he truly understand the weight she must have carried that day when she stood by him.
Evelyn was quiet, careful—yet she had given him so much. It had taken him three years to fully grasp the depth of her love. But thankfully, it wasn’t too late.
Lucas made his decision. He wouldn’t waste another second on people who didn’t matter. Without hesitation, he turned and walked away, each step filled with unwavering resolve.
Back in his car, Lucas pulled out his phone and sent the message he had already prepared. He expected an immediate reply, so he checked the screen.
A single gray tick stared back at him. Her profile picture was gone. Her status had disappeared. Blinking, he focused on the contact name in the center of the screen.
It was definitely Evelyn. Why would she suddenly block him?
Lucas couldn’t make sense of it. He sent a few more messages, but the block remained. His heart, calm just moments ago, twisted with unease.
His instincts screamed that something was wrong. But his emotions fought to dismiss the worry. He scrambled for excuses to soothe himself.
After all, she had seen him off that morning, perfectly fine, even waving goodbye. Maybe she had just pressed the wrong button by accident.
Lucas tried to convince himself. But the way he slammed the accelerator, running ten red lights just to get home before dark, betrayed his true panic.
When he arrived, the house looked exactly as he had left it—yet it felt hollow, lifeless. Nothing like the home it had once been.
The kitchen light was on. For a fleeting second, Lucas thought Evelyn was there, brewing her signature hangover remedy. Without thinking, he rushed inside.
A pot simmered on the stove—but it wasn’t Evelyn stirring it. It was the housekeeper.
Startled, she greeted him, fumbling as she handed him a cup.
Lucas hadn’t been drinking, but he took a sip anyway. The taste was wrong—nothing like Evelyn’s.
Frowning, he asked, "Did Mrs. Sinclair not make this?"
The housekeeper’s eyes widened in panic. "I—I’m sorry, Mr. Sinclair. Mrs. Sinclair showed me how to make it before she moved out, but I didn’t write it down. Let me make a fresh batch for you—"
Only four words registered in Lucas’s mind. Before she moved out. His chest tightened, as if plummeting into an abyss.
"When did she leave?" he demanded.
"This morning," the housekeeper whispered. "Right after you did."