CHAPTER 30
The room was packed with journalists, cameras, and microphones. The lights shone with an intensity that could rival the sun, but not enough to distract me from Xu Ai. She stood beside me, serene, though there was a slight tremor in her hands—something only someone who knew her well would notice. I did.
Everything was set. The company's employees had worked tirelessly to organize this press conference. The main table was adorned with discreet floral arrangements, a touch of elegance that contrasted with the almost predatory anticipation of the journalists in attendance. In front of us, the logos of Tianlong Group and Xu Ai Studio gleamed against a blue backdrop, officially sealing our collaboration.
I took my seat beside Ai, feeling my pulse quicken. I had been to countless press conferences before, but this one was different. Everything we had planned, every step I had taken so far, culminated in this moment. She wasn't just the star of the event—she was the center of my world.
The moderator welcomed everyone, and the flashes began to fire. There was an air of anticipation in the room, as if everyone was waiting for more than just the usual responses. As he briefly introduced the project and highlighted Xu Ai's talent, my gaze drifted towards her. She wore a pristine white suit—minimalist yet striking, like everything she did. Her expression was perfectly neutral, but I knew that every word the moderator spoke filled her with pride—and probably a hint of discomfort.
When it was time for questions, the journalists wasted no time. The first one stood up, microphone in hand, directing his attention straight at her.
"Miss Xu, can you tell us why you decided to return to China after five years in Paris?"
I saw her lips press together slightly. Her mind was working fast, searching for the right words.
"I felt it was the right time to return to my roots," she answered calmly. "I wanted to bring my international experience to the Chinese market and share my vision with my home country."
Another hand shot up quickly.
"Why did you stop designing for so long? Did your marriage influence your decision to temporarily step away from your career?"
The tension in the room became palpable. I noticed the slight tensing of Ai's shoulders. That was a low blow—one she clearly hadn't expected.
"My decisions have always been my own, based on the circumstances of each moment," she replied, though her voice had lost some of its initial firmness.
She didn't have time to recover before another journalist fired another question.
"Miss Xu, there are rumors suggesting that your move to Paris was driven by your divorce from Mr. Chen. Can you confirm or deny those claims?"
A murmur rippled through the room. I watched as Xu Ai took a deep breath, her expression staying neutral. But I could see the slight tremor in her fingers as she adjusted the microphone.
"My personal decisions have no bearing on my professional career," she responded, her tone firm but controlled. "I'd prefer we focus on why we're here today—to celebrate this collaboration and share my work with all of you."
The room settled slightly, but the question had left its mark. It was impossible to ignore how every pair of eyes remained locked on us, waiting for a reaction—for a detail that would confirm or dispel what had just been suggested.
That was when I picked up the microphone. I couldn't let them corner her any further.
"Today, we are here to celebrate the talent and work of Xu Ai," I said, my voice cutting through the room with clarity. The murmurs stopped instantly. "For many of you, this is the debut of an incredible designer. But for me, it's much more than that."
I turned my head toward her, meeting her gaze. She was staring at me, surprised. Her eyes were fixed on mine, but I couldn't tell if it was gratitude, confusion, or a mix of both.
"Xu Ai is not just a brilliant designer. She is someone who brings light to everything she touches. This collaboration isn't just the result of a contract. It's the recognition of her extraordinary talent, her dedication, and her vision."
I paused, letting my words settle in the air before continuing.
"We all make mistakes. I am no exception. But I am here to make sure that no one, ever again, underestimates what she is capable of."
The silence in the room was absolute. I placed the microphone back on its stand and leaned back slightly in my chair, letting my words sink in.
I watched as Ai straightened in her seat, regaining her composure. She picked up her microphone, her voice steadier now.
"Thank you for your interest in my career," she said, addressing the journalists. "But I'd prefer that we focus on the present and what we are building together with Tianlong Group."
The Q&A session continued, but the atmosphere had shifted. The journalists now focused on the details of the collaboration, and Ai answered with the confidence that defined her. I stayed silent, letting her shine. This was her night, her moment.
When the final question was answered, the moderator thanked everyone and officially concluded the press conference. But as the journalists gathered their things, I moved closer to Ai. She was reviewing some papers but stopped when she noticed my presence.
"Thank you for stepping in," she said, her tone warmer than I had expected. "I hadn't planned on discussing my personal life, but it seems some people just can't help themselves."
I nodded, keeping my voice low so only she could hear.
"I wasn't going to let them corner you. You don't deserve that."
She held my gaze for a moment, as if searching for something in my words—some hidden meaning. Finally, she nodded.
"I suppose… it was appropriate."
That was the closest thing to gratitude I would get from her, but for now, it was enough. As the organizers began dismantling the stage, I watched her walk toward the private lounge, surrounded by her team. Her figure disappeared into the crowd, but her words and her gaze lingered with me.
I knew this collaboration was an important step, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was fighting a much more personal battle. Every word spoken; every gesture made—it was all an attempt to reclaim something I feared I had lost forever.
As the venue emptied, I stayed there a moment longer, staring at the vacant stage, wondering how much more I could do to prove to her that I was willing to change—that this time, I wouldn't let her go.
*****
The atmosphere in the private lounge was filled with a quiet hum of conversation, a stark contrast to the intensity of the press conference. My team was euphoric, celebrating with glasses of wine and lively chatter. To them, everything had gone perfectly, but I couldn't ignore the weight still pressing on my chest. The journalists' questions, their probing looks, the insinuations… everything still echoed in my mind, like a ghost from the past I couldn't silence.
Ying approached with a broad smile, holding up a glass of wine.
"Miss Xu, this calls for a toast, don't you think?"
I took the glass she offered, forcing myself to match her enthusiasm. "To a future filled with success," I said, raising my glass slightly.
Laughter filled the room as the others lifted their glasses with mine. My smile remained in place, but inside, I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened. Everything seemed to be moving too fast, too perfectly, as if someone had orchestrated every detail to keep me from escaping.
The door opened, and the air in the room shifted instantly. My body tensed before I even turned my head. I already knew who it was. Chen Hao's presence was unmistakable, like a shadow that was always there, lingering. He entered with his usual confident stride, hands in his pockets, carrying that effortless poise that always managed to draw everyone's attention. Conversations stalled for a brief moment, and all eyes turned to him, including mine.
My team reacted as they always did: with respect and a touch of admiration. To them, Chen Hao wasn't just the president of Tianlong Group—he was almost a legend. To me, he was a constant reminder of a past I was trying to leave behind.
"Mr. Chen, won't you join us?" Ying asked, a spark of excitement in her eyes.
Before I could stop her, he was already making his way toward us. My stomach sank when he sat down right beside me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. To everyone else, it was normal—to me, it was a torment I had to endure in silence.
"I hope I'm not interrupting the celebration," he said, his tone polite but laced with a meaning only I seemed to understand.
"Not at all, Mr. Chen," Ying responded quickly, clearly delighted by his presence.
Chen Hao accepted a glass from a passing waiter and joined the toast. The conversation resumed, but I couldn't focus on the words. His proximity was suffocating, and every time his arm brushed against mine, my discomfort grew.
"Mr. Chen has been incredibly generous," Ying said, turning to me with enthusiasm. "Since signing the contract, he's done everything possible to ensure the warehouses are up and running smoothly."
My jaw clenched at her words. I couldn't blame her for being impressed—everything she said was true. Chen Hao had sent materials, reorganized entire production floors for the design team, and made sure everything was perfectly prepared. But to me, his generosity carried an undertone I couldn't ignore.
"Mrs. Chen, do you think we could consider collaborating with foreign designers?" one of the assistants suddenly asked, her tone casual, as if the question were nothing out of the ordinary.
My breath hitched for a moment. I felt the muscles in my neck tighten, and my hands, resting on the table, slowly curled into fists. It wasn't the first time I'd heard that title—but every time, it cut deeper.
Before I could respond, I felt a warm hand cover mine. My head instinctively turned to the left, meeting Chen Hao's calm gaze. My attention dropped to his hand… and there it was. That ring. The same ring I had placed on his finger on our wedding day still sat there, gleaming—a silent witness to a past I couldn't bury.
A surge of emotions crashed over me: confusion, anger, a nostalgia I didn't want to feel. I couldn't understand why he was still wearing it. We were divorced. Why hadn't he let it go the way I had tried to?
"Let's leave work for tomorrow," Hao said, breaking the uncomfortable silence with a quiet authority that seemed to put everyone at ease—everyone except me. "Tonight, we should focus on celebrating this important milestone."
My team nodded eagerly, relieved by the shift in topic, but I couldn't stop staring at the ring. His hand remained over mine, firm but not forceful, as if anchoring me to this moment. But instead of grounding me, it made me feel like I was unraveling.
Finally, with a discreet motion, I slipped my hand free and rose from the table. I needed air, space—something to help me regain control. I walked toward the window, pretending to be interested in the view of Shanghai. The city lights were dazzling, but they did nothing to quiet the storm inside me.
I felt his presence behind me and braced myself for another emotional battle. But he didn't move or say a word. He simply stood there, watching me in silence. The weight of his gaze was almost tangible, and for a moment, I wanted to turn around, to confront him, to demand answers. But I knew that doing so would only give him more power than he already had.
Why are you still wearing that ring? What are you trying to prove? I thought, my own reflection in the glass staring back at me, tense and filled with uncertainty.
I took a step forward, away from the window, and returned to the table. I knew they would all be watching me, wondering why I had reacted that way. But I couldn't afford to be vulnerable in front of them. I couldn't let Chen Hao see how much his presence, his closeness, his persistence affected me.
I sat down, picked up the glass I had left behind, and forced a smile as I pretended to listen to the conversation around me. But inside, the storm raged on. Chen Hao said nothing more, but I knew that his silence spoke louder than any words ever could.
And that, perhaps, was what unsettled me the most.
CHAPTER 31
The day began with an unusual sense of clarity. As the sunlight streamed into my apartment, I felt certain that the decision I had made the night before was the only way to fully regain control of my life. I was tired of the constant questions, the rumors, the comments about how "lucky" I was to have someone like Chen Hao behind me. But more than anything, I was tired of the conflicting emotions his presence still stirred within me.
This ends today, I told myself as I got ready in front of the mirror.
I put on a simple black dress and a beige coat—both a reflection of my determination. I wanted to project strength, to embody a woman who knew what she wanted and how to get it. I pulled my hair back into a low bun, put on a pair of understated earrings, and with one last glance, ensured there was no trace of vulnerability in my reflection.
I canceled all my commitments for the day. No meetings, no events. My sole goal was to sever, once and for all, everything that still tied me to Chen Hao. The first step was making sure the divorce we had agreed upon years ago was completed. And if it wasn't, I would make it public. The world needed to know that we were no longer husband and wife. No more misunderstandings, no more shadows of the past.
The Civil Affairs Bureau was a sober, functional building, like a gray box lost among the streets of Shanghai. As I walked towards the entrance, a sharp pang of uncertainty lodged itself in my chest, but I quickly dismissed it. This was just a formality, another step towards my independence.
At the front desk, a middle-aged man with glasses and a kind smile greeted me.
"Good morning. How can I help you?"
I took a deep breath and straightened my posture.
"Good morning. I'm here to confirm my marital status." I kept my tone firm, unwavering. "Years ago, I initiated divorce proceedings with my… husband, Chen Hao. I'd like to verify that everything is in order and, if possible, obtain a copy of the record."
The man nodded, typing quickly into his computer.
"Understood, ma'am. Please give me a moment."
I watched his fingers move over the keyboard as I tried to keep my mind calm. There was no reason to be nervous. This was just a simple process. But despite my efforts, a sense of unease began creeping in. What if something was wrong? What if…?
"This is strange…" the man murmured, frowning as he studied the screen.
It felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. My back stiffened, but I kept my posture composed.
"What do you mean by 'strange'?" I asked, striving to sound calm, even as my heart pounded.
The man adjusted his glasses and turned the monitor towards me. "It says here that there is no record of a divorce between you and Mr. Chen. According to this file, legally, you are still married."
For a moment, I couldn't react. His words echoed in my mind, unable to settle into place. Still married? That was impossible. I had spent five years rebuilding my life, believing everything was settled. How could this be true?
"There must be a mistake," I finally managed to say, though my voice sounded weak, even to me.
The man nodded, his expression sympathetic.
"It's possible, ma'am. Mistakes in records do happen. But as of now, there is no record of a complete divorce process. If you'd like, I can check older files, but so far, there is nothing indicating that you and Mr. Chen legally finalized a separation."
My legs started to tremble, and I leaned against the counter to keep my balance. My mind was in chaos. This can't be happening.
"That doesn't make any sense…" I murmured, more to myself than to him. "Five years ago, we talked about divorce. I asked him to do it. I insisted that it be final."
The man gave me a knowing look.
"Sometimes, ma'am, one party chooses not to proceed with the process. That could have halted the paperwork."
His words hit me like a hammer. Chen Hao had chosen not to proceed. Why? What had he been trying to do?
"So…?" I began, but my voice faltered. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to continue. "Are you saying we were never divorced?"
He nodded.
"That's correct. According to these records, you and Mr. Chen are still legally married."
I took a step back, unable to hold his gaze. My mind flooded with questions and emotions I couldn't control. What does this mean? That Chen Hao… was waiting for me?
I remembered the night I left, how I had signed the agreement and closed the door behind me without looking back. I had been so certain that he would go through with it. But now, everything felt like a lie. What had I been believing all this time? Why didn't he do it?
I turned back to the clerk, my voice steadier this time.
"What do I need to do to start the process immediately?"
He explained the necessary steps, but his words blurred together. All I could think about was how someone as calculated as Chen Hao had left something so important unresolved. Was it an oversight? Or was there something more?
When I stepped out of the building, the cold air hit my face, but it did nothing to clear my mind. I stopped at the steps, staring into the distance, feeling my determination begin to waver.
And as I struggled to pull myself together, one question kept hammering in my mind:
Why didn't he do it?
CHAPTER 32
I returned to my apartment with my mind trapped in a whirlwind of thoughts. Every step I took from the Civil Affairs Bureau to here had been a conscious effort not to let my emotions spill over. I could still hear the clerk's words: "Legally, you are still married."
How had Chen Hao allowed this to happen? What was he trying to achieve by not completing the divorce? The thought that he might have done this deliberately filled me with confusion—and a growing sense of anger.
The elevator doors opened, and I walked to my apartment door. My hands were trembling as I inserted the key into the lock, and when I finally stepped inside, I dropped my bag onto the entryway table with a heavy sigh. The apartment, which had always been a refuge of peace, now felt weighed down by an invisible burden.
I walked to the sofa and sank onto it, closing my eyes as I tried to process everything that had just happened. My mind kept replaying that moment at the Civil Affairs Bureau. The clerk's words, his apologetic look, everything lingered like an echo I couldn't shake.
Why didn't he do it?
I clenched my fists against my knees, feeling anger mixed with disbelief. I had spent five years rebuilding my life, closing that chapter—and now it turned out it had never truly been closed.
The sound of the doorbell snapped me out of my thoughts. I stayed still for a moment, my heart pounding. Chen Hao? The idea that he might be on the other side of the door sent a jolt of tension through me. Had he already found out what I did this morning? Had he come to confront me?
I took a deep breath and slowly stood up. I walked to the door and opened it, bracing myself for whatever was coming… but it wasn't him.
The building's concierge stood there; his expression polite but slightly concerned.
"Sorry to disturb you, Miss Xu," he said, offering a slight bow. "There is someone who wishes to speak with you."
I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest.
"Who?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
"He didn't give many details, but it seemed important. He's a middle-aged man, waiting at the building entrance."
My body tensed. A man? For a moment, I thought of Li Wen, but quickly dismissed the idea. It wasn't his style to show up unannounced. My mind drifted back to Chen Hao. Had he sent someone to talk to me?
"Did he say anything else?" I asked, trying to conceal my unease.
The concierge shook his head.
"No, ma'am. But he insisted it was urgent. If you prefer, I can ask him to leave."
I hesitated, weighing my options. Something inside me told me I needed to find out who this man was and what he wanted.
"No, it's fine. Tell him he can come up."
The concierge nodded and walked away, leaving me alone once more. I closed the door and leaned against it, feeling my heart begin to race again. Who could it be? The uncertainty gnawed at me as I waited.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang again. This time, I made sure to keep my expression neutral before opening it. When I did, I found myself face to face with a middle-aged man, dressed in a suit that showed signs of wear. His slightly hunched posture and guilt-ridden eyes made him look more vulnerable than threatening.
"Miss Xu Ai?" he asked, bowing his head respectfully.
I studied him carefully before responding.
"Yes, that's me. Who are you, and what do you want?" I asked, my tone was colder than I had intended.
"My name is Zhao Shan. Please, I beg you to listen to me. It's something important—about Mr. Chen Hao."
At the mention of Chen Hao's name, a wave of tension shot through me. My suspicions that this was all related to him were confirmed—but now I was even more intrigued.
"Come in," I finally said, stepping aside to let him in.
I led him to the living room and gestured towards a chair, standing as I watched him cautiously.
"Would you like something to drink?" I asked, more out of courtesy than genuine kindness.
"Water, please," he replied humbly.
I walked to the kitchen, taking my time as I poured two glasses of water, using those extra seconds to steady myself. When I returned, I placed one glass in front of him and sat down in the opposite chair, crossing my legs as I studied him expectantly.
"Alright, Mr. Zhao. What do you have to tell me?" I asked, my voice was neutral but firm.
He took a sip of water, avoiding my gaze at first. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke.
"Miss Xu, the first thing I need to do is apologize to you."
I frowned, confused.
"Apologize? Why would you need to apologize to me?"
Zhao Shan gripped his glass tightly, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Because I made a mistake. A terrible one. And I believe you deserve to know the truth."
The silence that followed was heavy. I felt the tension tightening in my chest, but I didn't look away from him.
"Explain yourself," I said, making my voice as cold as I could.
Zhao lifted his gaze, and in his eyes, I saw a mixture of guilt and desperation that unsettled me.
"Five years ago, I was the one who sent you those photos… the images that made you leave Mr. Chen."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My breath quickened; a tingling sensation spread through my hands. The glass I was holding trembled slightly, but I didn't let go.
"The photos?" I whispered, barely able to say the words.
Zhao nodded, his voice shaking as he continued.
"They were fake. I was paid to destroy Mr. Chen's marriage. It was all part of a plan to ruin him."
The confession echoed in my mind like an endless loop. The words "they were fake" pounded against me from every angle. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I had spent five years building my life around what I believed to be the truth—and now, everything was crumbling.
"A setup?" I repeated, more to myself than to him. I felt my voice waver, something I hated. I didn't want this man to see how much his words affected me.
Zhao nodded grimly, lowering his head slightly as if he wanted to disappear.
"Yes, Miss Xu. It was all staged. I was hired to fabricate those images and send them to you. Everything was orchestrated by Mr. Liang Zhou. He had… certain interests in seeing Mr. Chen fall."
Liang Zhou. The name wasn't unfamiliar. I remembered hearing it in conversations between Chen Hao and his business partners, but I had never paid much attention to it. Until now.
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why would he do something like that?"
Zhao took a deep breath, as if what he was about to say was even harder to admit.
"Mr. Liang had a business dispute with Mr. Chen. He tried to take him down through other means, but he failed. So, he decided to target something more personal… something he knew would wound him deeply: his marriage."
The world seemed to come to a standstill. I stared at Zhao, struggling to process what I had just heard. The images, the betrayal, my decision to leave… it had all been a lie. All of it.
"And you?" I asked, my voice was ice-cold as I clenched my fists. "Why did you agree to do something like this?"
Zhao lowered his gaze, unable to hold mine.
"It was for money. I was going through a rough time, and Mr. Liang offered me an amount I couldn't refuse. I deeply regret it, Miss Xu. There's no excuse for what I did, and I've paid for it over the years. Mr. Chen made sure I was never able to work in my field again."
My fingers trembled as memories of that night resurfaced—staring at those photos, the pain, the humiliation, the overwhelming sense of betrayal. And now, I knew it had all been fabricated.
A part of me wanted to scream, to unleash my fury on Zhao Shan for being part of this. But more than anything, I wanted answers.
"Does Chen Hao know?" I asked, my voice barely restrained.
Zhao Shan nodded slowly.
"Yes. He found out shortly after you left. He tried to reach you to explain, but…" He hesitated, as if afraid to say the next part. "I suppose by then, you didn't want to listen."
The weight of those words hit me like a crushing blow. I had ignored his attempts to contact me after I left. I had changed my number, my address—even moved to another country to avoid him. In my mind, I had condemned him without giving him a chance to defend himself. And now, five years later, I was facing the truth.
Zhao looked at me, his eyes filled with remorse.
"Miss Xu, I know I can't undo what I did. But I needed to confess the truth. Mr. Chen deserves your forgiveness, and you deserve to know what really happened."
I didn't respond right away. I stood up from the couch and walked towards the window. The city lights flickered outside, indifferent to the storm inside me. How could I forgive him? How could I face Chen Hao after all of this?
Zhao stood behind me, his voice trembling with emotion.
"I know this doesn't change anything, but… if there's any way I can make amends, I'll do whatever it takes. Please, Miss Xu, let me help in any way I can."
"You can start by leaving," I finally said, my voice as sharp as steel.
Zhao lowered his head, accepting my words without resistance.
"Thank you for listening. And I'm truly sorry…"
When the door closed behind him, it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. I leaned against the wall, letting the tears I had been holding back finally fall. I didn't know if they were tears of anger, pain, or sheer confusion. Maybe a mixture of everything.
Chen Hao knew. He had known all this time that the photos were fake, that they were the reason I had left. Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he fight harder to prove the truth?
I walked to the bathroom, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on my face. I looked up at my reflection—a woman who was no longer sure of anything. For five years, I had built a life on a lie. What was I supposed to do now? How would I face Chen Hao?
The sudden ring of my phone broke the silence of my apartment. I glanced at the screen, and Chen Hao's name lit up.
My heart stopped for a second before resuming at a faster pace. I hesitated, my finger hovering over the screen, but finally, I swiped to answer.
"Yes?" I said, keeping my voice as neutral as possible.
"Ai," he said. His tone was soft, almost hesitant, a mix of concern and something else I couldn't quite identify. "Are you okay?"
The question caught me off guard, but I didn't let it show.
"I'm busy, Chen Hao. What do you want?" I replied, cold, trying to shield myself from the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line—long enough for me to think he might have hung up. But then he spoke again.
"I just wanted to check on you after the press conference. It was a big moment for you, and… I thought you might need something."
His words surprised me. The Chen Hao I remembered wasn't someone who cared about how I felt. But something in his tone, in his choice of words, was different. Something I hadn't expected.
I took a deep breath, trying to decide what to do. Zhao Shan's confession still echoed in my mind, along with the anger and confusion it had left behind. There were questions that needed answers—and only Chen Hao could give them to me.
"Actually, yes. There's something I want to talk to you about," I said, my tone more resolute now.
"Of course. Tell me when and where," he answered immediately, his voice carrying a restrained emotion he was trying to hide.
"Can you meet this afternoon? Four o'clock. At the café in Jingyan Hotel." I chose a neutral place, a public space where I wouldn't feel cornered.
"Yes. I'll be there." There was no hesitation in his response, as if he had been waiting for this moment.
"Good. See you then," I said and hung up before he could say anything else.
I stared at the dark screen, my mind racing to process what I had just done. The determination I had felt minutes ago began to waver.
But I couldn't back out now. I needed answers. And this time, I wasn't going to run.
I sank onto the couch, my gaze fixed on the ceiling. For the first time in a long while, I felt lost—without a clear path forward. And as I tried to make sense of everything, one thing became undeniable:
The past never stays where you leave it.
CHAPTER 33
The documents remained stacked on my desk, ignored. I tried to focus, but every line I read blurred into nothingness. My attention wasn't on work, it was on her.
Since the press conference, every second, every thought had revolved around her. The way she managed the media's attention, her flawless composure, that spark of determination in her eyes… all of it had left me in a constant state of unrest. I should have felt proud, and I did, but pride was mixed with a gnawing sense of loss that I couldn't ignore.
I rested my elbows on the desk, lacing my fingers together in front of my face, closing my eyes. I tried to push the thoughts away, but instead, they pulled me back to a night I had tried to bury deep in my memory—the night I came home and found her studio empty.
That space, which I had once considered insignificant, now felt like an open wound. The shadows of what had been her creative haven still lingered, like scars etched into the walls. The sewing machine was covered in dust, the mannequin stood bare, and staple marks lined the places where her sketches once hung. I had never truly stopped to look at what she did there. I assumed it was just a hobby, something trivial compared to my work.
That night, amidst the shadows of her absence, I found a sketch crumpled on the floor. It was a delicate design, filled with intricate details I hadn't understood then—but now, I recognized it as a masterpiece. I had held that sheet of paper in my hands, feeling for the first time the weight of everything I had ignored.
How many times had I walked past her without asking about her day? How many times had I dismissed her efforts, assuming my work was more important?
I wondered what our life might have been if I had been a different man—a better husband. Would we have had children? Would she have felt safe enough to share her doubts and dreams with me? Would she have given me those smiles she now reserved for someone else?
The image of Ai at dinner with Wen flashed through my mind like a gut punch. That smile, that connection they shared… I had never had that with her. Instead, I had given her indifference and coldness. And now, it seemed I was paying the price for my mistakes.
I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my temples to quiet the storm raging inside me. But then, a light knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. I looked up just as Jiang stepped in with his usual discretion.
"Mr. Chen," he said, holding his tablet like it was about to explode, "there's something you need to know."
His tone was serious enough to snap my attention back into focus. I straightened in my seat, feeling the tension in the room thicken.
"Speak," I ordered, my voice sharper than usual.
Jiang stepped forward, placed the tablet on my desk, and looked at me directly.
"It's about Mrs. Chen," he said. "She was at the Civil Affairs Bureau today. It seems… she's discovered that you're still legally married."
The words hit me like a bucket of ice-cold water. For a moment, I felt the air leave my lungs as I processed what I had just heard.
"What?" I murmured, unable to mask the shock in my voice.
"According to our sources, she requested to verify her marital status. She now knows the divorce was never finalized." Jiang spoke carefully, as if each word were a fragile piece of glass that could shatter at any moment.
I leaned forward, grabbing the tablet to read the details myself. My heart pounded hard in my chest, and I wasn't sure if it was panic, guilt, or a mix of both.
This isn't how she was supposed to find out.
I had planned to tell her myself; to face her with the truth and explain why I never completed the divorce. But now, that choice had been taken from me—it had exploded in my face.
"You can go, Jiang," I said finally, my tone leaving no room for argument.
When the door closed behind him, I was left alone with my thoughts, feeling more vulnerable than I had in a long time.
What was Ai thinking right now? Was she furious? Confused? Or maybe, just maybe, was she considering what this meant for us?
My eyes drifted to the phone on my desk. I needed to call her. I couldn't let this sit in the air, but… what was I supposed to say?
That I never signed the papers because I couldn't bear to lose her? That even though I had let her go physically, she had always been my wife in my mind?
I took a deep breath, picking up the phone with slightly trembling hands. As I dialed her number, I braced myself for the worst.
But I also knew—this was my chance. My chance to start making things right.
When she answered, her voice hit me like a direct blow to the chest: neutral, distant, yet carrying a firmness I didn't remember.
Every word she spoke made me more aware of how far apart we were now.
But then she said she wanted to talk. And I couldn't stop the flicker of hope that sparked inside me.
"Can you meet this afternoon? Four o'clock. At the café in Jingyan Hotel," she said.
Her tone was direct, leaving no room for discussion—but that was who she was now. Determined, in control. And all I could do was agree.
"Of course. I'll be there," I replied, faster than I had intended.
When she hung up, I stared at the dark screen of my phone.
There was something in her tone, in the way she spoke, that told me—this wouldn't be just a conversation.
For the first time in my life, I felt fear.
Not the fear of a business negotiation or a battle for power. But the fear of losing something that had once been mine—and perhaps still was.
As the afternoon approached, I couldn't stop imagining how different our life could have been. If I had seen her dreams from the beginning. If I had listened to her fears. If I had shared her joys instead of ignoring them. Would we have a family now? Would we be talking about her new collection over dinner? Would she smile at me the way she smiled at Li Wen?
I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. I couldn't afford to dwell on a future that might never exist. But I couldn't give up. Because even though I was preparing for the worst, I still wanted to fight—to prove what Xu Ai meant to me. And I would do whatever it took to convince her that not everything had been lost.
CHAPTER 34
The sound of cups clinking softly filled the coffee shop, muffled by the conversations of the few customers present. I paused at the door, my hands clutching my purse, trying to calm the storm in my chest. I knew he was in there, waiting for me, and even though I had spent days preparing for this moment, the weight of what I was about to face made my legs feel like lead.
"It's just coffee," I told myself for the umpteenth time, trying to convince myself that I could handle it. But it wasn't just coffee. It was Chen Hao. It was the man who had been my greatest wound, and at the same time, the only person who seemed to have the ability to disarm me with a single glance.
I took a deep breath, looking at my reflection in the glass of the door. My face looked calm, almost expressionless, but I knew that beneath that controlled facade hid emotions that I had learned to suppress for years. "Just coffee," I repeated, and finally pushed the door open.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped me instantly, comforting and familiar, though not enough to soothe my anxiety. My eyes scanned the room quickly until I found him. He was sitting by the window, leaning forward, his elbows on the table and his hands clasped in front of him. He seemed calm, but there was something in his posture that betrayed tension, a barely perceptible stiffness in his shoulders.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the noise of the coffee shop vanished. There was no room for anyone else at that moment. I watched as he stood up slowly, as if afraid that any sudden movement might break the fragile balance that kept us face to face.
"Ai," he said, pronouncing my name in a soft, almost reverent tone.
I raised a hand, stopping him before he could try any gesture.
"There's no need, Chen Hao. This is not a formal meeting," I replied as I sat down in front of him, keeping my tone neutral.
I saw him nod and sit back down. His eyes didn't leave me, and although I had tried to prepare myself for his gaze, I couldn't help but feel it slide over my skin, searching for something I didn't want to show.
"Thank you for coming," he said finally, breaking the silence with a voice that, for the first time, seemed to falter.
I placed my purse on the table, intertwining my fingers to keep them busy. I had no intention of making this easy for him.
"I'm not here out of courtesy. I'm here because I need answers," I said firmly, forcing myself to look directly at him.
I saw his jaw tighten slightly, and a flash of something I couldn't identify crossed his eyes. He wasn't used to me talking to him that way, but I didn't care. I was no longer the woman who avoided confronting him.
"Ask me anything you want," he replied, leaning forward, as if willing to endure any blow I threw at him.
I didn't waste any time.
"Why did you never finalize the divorce?" I blurted out, watching his expression change instantly.
He looked away for a second, as if searching for the words in the air. When he looked back at me, his eyes were filled with a sincerity that disarmed me as much as it enraged me.
"Because I never wanted to divorce you," he said, in a voice so low that I almost had to lean in to hear him.
His words hit me like a hammer. I felt my heart race, but not in the way it used to, when I still believed in us. Now it was anger, confusion, pain. Everything mixed in my chest, threatening to overflow.
"Never wanted to divorce?" I repeated, my tone sharper than I expected. "Then explain to me, Chen Hao, what did you want? Because all I remember of our marriage is loneliness. Endless nights waiting for you, not knowing if you would even come home. Meals I prepared only to watch them get cold while you were anywhere but with me."
The words came out before I could stop them. For years I had kept them in, afraid that they would say more than I wanted to admit. But now it didn't matter. He had to hear them; he had to understand the weight of what he had done to me.
"You treated me like a decorative object," I continued, my voice trembling slightly. "Something pretty to show off, but empty." I put a hand to my chest, trying to calm the pain that was beginning to resurface. "Every cold gesture, every indifferent word... I can still feel it here. And it hurts. It hurts so much that I don't know if it will ever stop hurting."
I saw his hands, usually so controlled, clench on the table. His eyes, always impenetrable, were now filled with something that seemed to match my pain.
"I know," he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I know I failed you. I failed you in every way possible, and there are no excuses for that."
"Then why?" I asked, feeling tears well up in my eyes, though I refused to let them fall. "Why didn't you let me go when I asked you to? Why did you allow me to think that everything was over, when you had done nothing?"
He took a deep breath, as if each word he was about to say took a monumental effort.
"Because I couldn't let you go." His confession took me by surprise. His voice was low, but the words carried devastating weight. "Even when I thought it was the best for you, I wasn't able to take that step. I'm a coward, Ai. I didn't want to lose you, even though I knew I already had."
Tears escaped my eyes before I could stop them. I didn't want to feel any of this, I didn't want his words to have any effect on me, but they did. And that was what hurt the most.
"It's not enough," I whispered, my voice heavy with a weariness that came from years of accumulated wounds. "Words are not enough to erase what happened. You can't just show up now and expect everything to disappear."
I saw him nod slowly; his gaze fixed on mine. His eyes seemed to scream something that his lips didn't dare to say.
"I know. But I'm not here to ask you to forget. I'm here to ask you for a chance to make amends. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I can't stop trying."
The silence that followed was overwhelming. My heart was torn between the pain of the past and the uncertainty of the present. But something in me knew that I wasn't ready to decide yet. Not yet.
*****
I held the coffee cup in my hands, but didn't drink. The heat it gave off was barely a reminder that I was still here, in this world, in this instant. In front of me, she stayed motionless, her face a mask of control that barely managed to hide the storm in her eyes. I didn't need her to speak to know what she was thinking: she was angry, distrustful, and with good reason.
I had dreamed of this moment, had rehearsed the words in my mind over and over, but now, sitting in front of her, the emptiness in my chest was too great. I didn't know how to begin, how to face the truth that we had both avoided for years.
"You're right about everything you said," I said finally, breaking the heavy silence. My voice sounded lower than I intended, but at least it was honest. "I treated you in the worst possible way. I was cold, distant, and selfish. But I want you to know something: that was never my intention when I married you."
Her hands tightened around the cup in front of her. It was a small, almost insignificant gesture, but revealing. She was listening. I could see her processing my words, as if searching for some hidden meaning in them.
The moment stretched out, but I couldn't stop now. I needed her to know everything, to understand what I had never said.
"I fell in love with you when we were in high school," I confessed, my voice trembling slightly, an effect of too many repressed emotions. "I don't know if you noticed, but I always found an excuse to pass near you. It was a silly way to get closer, to be in your world, even if only for a few seconds."
The shadow of an emotion crossed her face, but she stayed silent. It was as if every word I said baffled her, but she was unwilling to admit it.
I took a deep breath and continued.
"When my family proposed the marriage, at first I flatly refused. I didn't want to marry for business, I didn't want my life to be dictated by contracts or agreements. But everything changed when I found out who my wife would be." I let out a bitter laugh, running a hand over the back of my neck. "I thought it was fate. That I finally had a reason to accept."
I wanted to stop there, but I knew I couldn't avoid what came next. I had to face the worst moment, the one that had marked the beginning of the end for us.
"But everything changed on our wedding day." I felt the weight of the words settle on my chest, but I let them out. "I heard something I shouldn't have."
She raised an eyebrow, her gaze questioning me even before I continued.
"I heard your mother say that you had married me for the power, for the social and economic benefits that my family could offer." My hands tightened around the cup even more, as if the memory could crush me. "She said you had accepted because the marriage would help your family and give you what you had always wanted."
Xu Ai shook her head slowly, her expression a mixture of disbelief and held anger.
"That's not true," she said firmly, although her voice trembled slightly. "I never accepted this marriage for power. I accepted it because..."
She stopped, as if the words were too heavy to pronounce. Finally, she looked up at me, and in her eyes, I saw something I didn't expect.
"Because I was in love with you."
The impact of those words hit me like a punch straight to the soul. I knew I had felt it before, I had read it in the pages of her diary that I should never have opened. But hearing it from her lips, here, now, made it so real that it almost hurt.
"Then why?" she asked, leaning towards me, her voice heavy with a pain that seemed too old to heal. "If you really cared about me, why did you behave the way you did? Why was I just a decorative vase to you?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but the knot in my throat stopped me. I took a breath and spoke, although I knew that my words would not be enough to heal what I had broken.
"Because I didn't know how to handle it," I admitted, each word laden with a guilt that I had carried for too long. "On our wedding day I heard those words and... I shut down. I let fear and pride blind me. I thought that everything I had dreamed of with you wasn't real, that I was just being used."
Ai shook her head again, this time more forcefully, as if my words were a direct blow against her principles.
"I was never that person. I broke ties with my family before the wedding because I knew what they stood for. I never wanted them to interfere in our lives. But you... you never gave me a chance." Her voice broke slightly as her fingers tightened around the cup; her knuckles white with tension. "I spent entire nights waiting for you, dreaming that you would come home and be the loving husband I imagined. Meanwhile, what were you doing? Where were you?"
"I hated you for all the things I endured since we got married."
"What things did you endure? What did I do to you to make you treat me like that?"
The words pierced me like daggers, each one a reminder of how much I had failed. I lowered my gaze, unable to sustain her scrutiny.
"Your father showed up at my office several times during that year," I confessed, my voice low but clear. "He asked me for favors, financial support for his projects."
Xu Ai's face paled. She placed the cup on the table as if the contact with it burned her hands.
"Benefits?" she asked in a whisper, her words laden with disbelief and palpable pain.
"It was almost always money," I admitted, watching how my confession devastated her even more.
She leaned back in the chair, bringing a hand to her forehead as she tried to process what she had just heard. During all that time, while she was trying to save our marriage, her father was undermining any possibility of reconciliation.
"I didn't know," she said finally, her voice broken. "I had no idea that this was happening. When I left, I left everything behind, including my family."
I looked at her, noticing how my words were tearing her apart.
"I found out that you were raised by your grandmother when you left," I said softly. "It was then that I understood many things. But it was too late."
Ai closed her eyes for a moment before straightening up, her expression hardened.
"All this only indicates that we cannot be together," she decided, her voice firm. "Fate separated us for a reason, Chen Hao."
I shook my head, feeling how despair began to take hold of me.
"The photos weren't real, Ai," I said urgently, knowing that it was now or never. "I have never been with another woman since I married you. I was cold, distant and selfish, but never unfaithful because, deep down, I have always loved you."
The confession left me completely exposed, but I couldn't keep it in any longer. I saw her press her lips together, her eyes fixed on me, shining with a mixture of disbelief and a contained fury.
"Hao, I'm not here for a reconciliation or to listen to your apologies," she said finally, her tone as sharp as a knife. "My intention is only one: to ask you to hand over the divorce papers and that we finally separate legally."
Her words were like a dagger straight to the heart. I knew I expected that reaction, but I was not prepared for the weight of her coldness. I closed my eyes for a moment, seeking strength in the abyss of my despair.
"Let me propose something different," I replied, my tone serene, although inside I felt myself crumbling.
She raised an eyebrow, skepticism drawn on every line of her face.
"What else could you propose, Chen Hao?" she asked sarcastically, her voice tired, as if she no longer had the strength to argue.
I leaned my body forward, determined to risk everything.
"Give me two months. Just two months to prove to you that I have changed. That my love for you is real and that, despite everything, we can still find a way to be together. If after that time you still feel that there is nothing to save, we will hand over the divorce agreement. I will not object. You will have what you always wanted."
The air in the coffee shop seemed to stop. Ai blinked, processing my words. There was a slight tremor in her gaze, as if she didn't know whether to reject me immediately or grant me one last thread of hope.
"Why would I do something like that?" she asked, her tone less aggressive, although still heavy with skepticism. "What makes you think you have the right to ask me for more time after what you did?"
"Because I love you, Ai." The words came out simple, but the weight they carried was immense. "I'm not saying that I didn't make mistakes. But I can't let this be the end. Not without trying."
She let out a brief, bitter laugh and shook her head.
"It's easy to say that now, after everything that happened. But do you know what I think?" Her eyes were two mirrors full of fury. "I think that all you want is to redeem yourself. To feel better about yourself, as if that could change anything."
Her judgment was so accurate that it left me breathless. I knew she was right, at least in part. But I couldn't let her think that my love for her was a simple excuse to ease my conscience.
"If you really loved me, Chen Hao, you wouldn't have allowed your pride to come between us. You wouldn't have let rumors, lies and the words of others destroy what we had. You would have talked to me, instead of shutting yourself off in your own world and treating me like a ghost."
I lowered my gaze, my hands clenching on the table. Every word she spoke was a truth that I could not refute, a sentence that I accepted as deserved.
"You're right," I admitted, my voice breaking slightly. "I didn't know how to love you as you deserved. But that doesn't change what I feel. I love you and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove it."
She stayed silent, evaluating me with a look that seemed to pierce to the depths of my soul. Finally, her lips parted, but not to pronounce words of hope.
"Two months?" she asked, her tone cold, as if she had already decided the futility of my proposal.
I nodded, keeping my gaze fixed on hers.
"Two months. If I don't manage to change what you feel, my lawyer will finalize the divorce."
She looked away towards the window, as if searching for answers in the outside world. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, reflecting the whirlwind of emotions she was trying to hide. I knew that the logical thing would be to reject me, but something made her hesitate.
Finally, she turned towards me, her voice as cutting as a winter wind.
"Fine. I accept your proposal. But I want one thing to be clear: I don't believe you will achieve anything. You froze my heart, Chen Hao. And there is nothing you can do to make it tender again."
Her words were like a verdict, but even so, they meant that I had a chance. A small spark in the darkness that I clung to with everything I had.
She stood up calmly, smoothing her coat before looking at me one last time.
"We'll see each other at the office," she said coldly before turning and leaving.
I watched her as she walked away, each of her steps a reminder of how much I had lost and how much I had to do to get her back. Two months. Only two months to prove to her that my love was real.
And I didn't plan to waste a single second.