“You love me and yet you want a divorce.”

After a long silence, Grey let out a self-deprecating chuckle.

“It sounds like something out of a tabloid headline. Love and divorce – such a cliché. Marriage vows are a binding contract, Regina.”

“You’re the one who broke that contract first.”

“My breach of contract?”

“You took vows before God, didn’t you? That you’d always love me, that you’d stand by me in sickness and in health.”

But he hadn’t. In just over three short years of marriage, Regina had shed enough tears to last a lifetime.

Grey was the kind of man who, instead of wiping away her tears, sent her expensive handkerchiefs in various styles.

So they could never have been happy.

“I didn’t marry you because you were the greatest businessman in Wailin. I married you because I believed you loved me… because I wanted to build a happy home with you.”

She didn’t need to look up to know. She could already feel the condescending look he must be casting at her, as if she were a foolish child.

“Your naivety never ceases to amaze me, Regina.”

“What did you just say?”

“Is there really a noblewoman out there who doesn’t know that the social season is nothing more than a grand marriage market?”

The man who had once pursued her more passionately than anyone else during the season now denied it all, insisting it was nothing more than a carefully rehearsed act and that she was a fool not to see through it.

“It’s just common sense that if you want to pass a test, you have to prove you’re qualified. Whether it’s for a job or a marriage, it’s the same. I had to show that I was better than the other candidates. Things like acting like a devoted husband, offering financial security, showing kindness to your struggling family – these were all part of the performance.”

“So you pretended to love me just to be chosen?”

“I would say I was being courteous. That’s a more appropriate way of putting it.”

No, it wasn’t appropriate at all.

Because suddenly Regina couldn’t breathe.

Her vision began to blur.

‘I always had this vague suspicion… that maybe… maybe you didn’t love me.’
‘But I told myself—if you proposed to me, if you chose me to be your wife—then at least I must have been ‘special.’ And I thought… maybe that would be enough.’

Still, she had thought that being proposed to, being chosen as his wife, meant she was special. That it was enough. That she could make him love her – eventually, bit by bit.

But the three years of marriage had slowly broken her, piece by piece. What finally broke her completely was the year she spent as a vegetative patient.

Only then did Regina truly understand: she had never been special to him.

In truth, it didn’t matter who the woman was – as long as she met the requirements to be his wife.

“Before the wedding, I sent you flowers every single day. I wrote you letters filled with romantic poems and verses. Whenever I wanted to see you, I asked your chaperone and your family for permission. Because it was clear—the one who followed the courtship rituals best would be the one chosen.”

He said all this in a cynical tone and then questioned her as if she were the strange one.

“Didn’t you also weigh and compare all the conditions before you chose me, Regina?”

“No.”

Before the tears she had been holding back could drown her, Regina took a last breath.

“That’s not why I married you. And that’s why I want a divorce, Grey.”

This time it was Grey who was speechless.

For the first time, his neatly constructed logic broke down.

The woman he had seen as simple and emotional – easy to ‘handle’ – had slipped from his grasp.

“I know I’m not the woman you wanted. The kind who never demands love, who’s just grateful for everything you give her… If I were that kind of woman, I don’t think you would be so worried right now.”

“If you understand that, then it’s not too late to become her.”

“I can’t. It’s not possible.”

You can’t fall in love just by trying. And you can’t cut love out of your heart just because you want to.

Her swallowed breath burned like acid in her throat under his cold silence.

But that… that she had to say.

“I love you. And I just… desperately wish you could love me back—even if it’s only a little.”

‘Please.’
Had she really said that word out loud? It felt like she was begging – like a pauper begging for scraps.

Regina wasn’t naive. She knew that love didn’t stay as fiery and all-consuming as it was at first.

But wasn’t love more than just passion? Didn’t it take many forms?

Even if it didn’t burn like fire, she had hoped for something quieter, something more enduring – like a spring that never runs dry, always flowing, always gentle.

She could offer that kind of love.

She had the heart, the patience, the strength to give it, again and again, without tiring…

If only he would let her.

“I’m a busy man, Regina.”

His shadow draped over the back of the chair as if bored. He leaned into it, his already imposing frame stretching lazily – probably wearing the same indifferent expression he used to wear when dismissing unimaginative business propositions in the days when he was still climbing the ladder.

“You brought nothing to this marriage – no dowry, just yourself. Since then, I’ve worked ten times harder than anyone else to support you and your family. And now you expect me to entertain something as frivolous as love?”

“It’s inefficient. And frankly, shameless.”

Regina gave a weak, hollow smile.

For a year, confined to this bed, she had waited –

Waiting and hoping and being disappointed again and again.

‘He’ll come to see me. Of course he will. He must be worried. He’s just busy. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next week. Maybe next month.’

But Grey had never walked through that door with a worried look on his face.

“Let’s settle this amicably.”

Ah – there it was. The old tactic. Back someone into a corner, break their resolve and then present a so-called ‘compromise’ as if it were an act of generosity.

“A married woman can’t go on dreaming about love like a little girl. You should concentrate on your responsibilities. And if you really need something to cling to… I’ll buy you a dog.”

As he spoke, a low, steady buzzing filled her ears. Oddly, it reminded her of the ocean.

Regina had always felt like she was building a sandcastle alone, on a shore constantly battered by the waves.

Every time it collapsed, she cried – but still she rolled up her sleeves and started again, gathering the sand with her bare hands.

And now the last of her castles had been washed away.

“Grey, as long as you live and breathe under the same roof as me, I’ll love you. I always will. But you don’t want that love. So… separation is what’s right for us.”

His posture shifted, straightening, and the shadow he cast across the floor was sharp as a blade. The way he stretched towards her made her close her eyes.

“Regina.”

He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, finally stepping into the space she could no longer ignore.

His long, refined fingers brushed her cheek, turning her face towards him.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, reluctantly, she opened her eyes – and the face that met hers was calm and cold, smiling like the pale light of the moon.

“I will never divorce you.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be foolish.”

The distance between them was too close.

Because he was so close, every syllable he spoke tickled the fine hairs on her cheek – and cut her heart like a blade.

“You know it too, don’t you? How people grovel at my feet to borrow money—then turn around and call me a nouveau riche who rose too fast.”

Grey didn’t care.

The first to blaze a trail was always the first to be criticised. He found the jealousy of those too cowardly or incapable to make their own way ridiculous.

“But for my child to be treated like an outcast—that’s an entirely different matter. I’m confident no defective child would ever be born of my blood, but… just in case, isn’t it a parent’s duty to build a strong, protective wall?”

That was why he’d married Regina Odair.

She had no money, but she was the daughter of an old noble house – one of the founding families that the aristocracy revered so blindly, clinging to their notion of “honour”.

“No one would dare look down on a child of your noble blood. At least not here in Wailin.”

He explained in a soft, fluttering tone as he ran his hand over Regina’s flat stomach.

“I’ve made quite an investment to get to this point. Do you think I’d let you go without seeing the return?”

It didn’t matter how deeply she loved him—

To Grey, Regina was nothing more than a bothersome, useless appendage attached to an underperforming womb.

“Once the child is born, your incessant talk of love might finally serve a purpose. If a woman loves her husband, there’s a good chance she’ll develop affection for the child. According to studies, children who receive maternal love tend to show significantly higher achievement.”

‘Should I be happy?’

That at least in this way, her love might be considered ‘useful’ to him?