The CEO’s Hidden Bride: Leaving After 2555 Days - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Evelyn had been home for a solid thirty minutes before Lucas finally replied to her text.
"Don’t worry about it. Since you’re the one asking me to sign, there’s no way it’ll harm me."
Translation: He wasn’t going to read it at all.
Of course, he wouldn’t. He was too busy rushing off to pick up Isabella, who had drunk herself into oblivion. How could he possibly spare a moment to glance at legal documents?
Even though the papers sat right there, within arm’s reach.
The rain had poured relentlessly all day, only easing into a drizzle by dusk the next evening.
Evelyn stayed inside the entire time. Silently, she deleted every post across every platform where she had once shared glimpses of her married life.
The moment she cleared the last photo from her Instagram, a new post from Isabella popped up.
Sun-kissed and carefree, Isabella lounged on a yacht, each shot meticulously framed—including one that prominently featured a man’s long, elegant fingers resting on the railing.
Evelyn recognized those hands instantly. Lucas’s hands.
And she knew Isabella had posted it deliberately.
But none of it mattered anymore.
She turned off her phone, stood, and walked to the kitchen to prepare a salad. Just as she finished, the front door opened.
Lucas stepped inside, holding a cake.
Evelyn froze.
"You don’t even like sweets," she said. "What’s with the cake?"
He glanced at her meager dinner and frowned. "It’s your birthday. Did you forget? Why are you eating something so plain?"
Evelyn’s breath hitched.
When she was four, her parents divorced and left her with her grandmother. By sixteen, her grandmother passed away. After that, no one remembered her birthday.
But in the three years she’d been married to Lucas, he never forgot. No matter how swamped he was, he always came home.
If she returned from a trip, he’d be at the airport, pulling her into his arms the moment she stepped out. If a storm rolled in, he’d hold her close because he knew thunder terrified her.
She had mistaken that effortless care for love.
Everything shattered a month ago, on their anniversary, when Lucas canceled their candlelit dinner, citing "urgent business."
Disappointed, Evelyn agreed when Natalie asked her to drop off a jacket at a bar—where she stumbled upon Isabella, drunk and clinging to Lucas, who was supposedly working late.
"Isabella, stop this," Lucas had growled, trying to pry her off. "You can’t just—what, toss me aside and pick me back up whenever you feel like it?"
But Isabella only laughed, wrapping herself around him again and again, refusing to let go.
Finally, Lucas stopped resisting. He lowered his head, his gaze burning with barely restrained emotion.
"Isabella," he murmured, voice thick with resignation. "What am I supposed to do with you?"
The bag in Evelyn’s hand slipped, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Memories surged—Lucas and Isabella’s fingers intertwined as they navigated crowded streets, Lucas tilting an umbrella to shield Isabella from the rain, Lucas on one knee in his graduation gown, promising her forever.
Every moment proved one thing: Lucas had never stopped loving Isabella.
Not three years of marriage, not Evelyn’s legal claim as his wife, not even the fleeting warmth he’d shown her could change that.
The affection he’d given her? It was never hers. Just borrowed.
She had been foolish enough to believe otherwise.
Now, staring at the number 24 on the birthday cake, Evelyn felt nothing. She lowered her head politely. "Thank you."
Lucas lit the candles, his smile soft. "Evelyn, we’re married. You don’t have to thank me like I’m a stranger. Make a wish."
She nodded. Just as she leaned forward, his phone rang. The hesitation in his eyes told her exactly who was calling.
So she sat back down.
A minute later, he ended the call and walked out.
The sound of his car faded into the night.
Alone in the dim glow of the candles, Evelyn pressed her palms together and made a wish for her twenty-sixth year.
"This year, I’m done loving Lucas Sinclair."