Chapter 3

At the corporate gala, many wealthy wives looked down on me.

They gathered in groups, leaving me isolated to the side.

Cheney, who'd been warm earlier, went off to greet others, as if I were an unremarkable weed mixed among famous flowers — an eyesore and pitiable.

Only one woman, similarly isolated, was willing to sit beside me.

She said she was a widow.

I glanced at her, understanding that this gala was essentially a matchmaking event for single men and women — besides the unmarried, there were only couples like Ethan and me there to make appearances. A widow showing up here would inevitably attract gossip about being "restless." But that was others' prejudice, which I didn't share. Starting a new life after losing a husband was perfectly normal.

Those society wives and daughters avoided her to prevent being tainted by idle gossip that might affect their social image — pure snobbery and herd mentality. And I, a janitor who married into wealth only through the Chairman's arrangement, was equally beneath their notice.

We were kindred spirits — one outcast needn't look down on another.

We kept each other company until the banquet ended. She walked out with me.

Passing through the archway, she smiled at me. I found her face somewhat familiar.

Before I could place her, she plucked a flower and tucked it into my hair.

"Mrs. Harrington, I'm Vivienne Windsor."

She turned and left.

I walked toward Ethan in the distance, forcing a shy smile.

But as I approached, I found Ethan distracted, staring blankly in the direction Vivienne had departed.

"So similar, too similar."

I turned back, finally realizing where that sense of familiarity came from.

She and I shared similar height, build, and features.

The difference was that she had an extraordinary bearing — the look of someone with excellent breeding.

Ethan and I returned home. He didn't speak the entire way.

As soon as we arrived, he rushed impatiently to his study.

The next day, before dawn, he woke me with dark circles under his eyes.

He handed me an invitation, his tone casual.

"Invite her to visit our home."

I opened the invitation and saw Ethan's familiar handwriting.

It bore the name I'd expected.

Vivienne Windsor.

I held the invitation, keeping my head down without speaking.

Ethan's gaze fell on me like something tangible.

"Honey, you'll be obedient, won't you?"

I was silent for a moment, then finally nodded.

He smiled with satisfaction.

His departing footsteps carried anticipation.

I stood there lost in thought, wondering if Vivienne could be Ethan's dream girl.

If so, what would he do?

Would he marry her? Then what about me?

An idea took root in my heart.

If Vivienne truly was that savior, Ethan would definitely want to be with her.

Then I, the substitute, would become an obstacle.

So could I perhaps ask Ethan to divorce me?

At this thought, my heart began to race uncontrollably.

Vivienne accepted the invitation.

I received her as a standard housewife would.

While strolling in the courtyard, we ran into Ethan in his suit.

He approached through the flowers and willows, impeccably dressed.

Standing in the sunlight, light and shadow played across his amorous features.

He apologized as if by accident. Vivienne didn't mind, her gentle eyes meeting Ethan's.

They exchanged pleasantries, gradually walking side by side.

The stone path in the garden wasn't wide. I fell back a step, following behind them with lowered eyes, listening to their conversation.

Ethan brought up five years ago, asking if Vivienne had been in the capital that year.

Vivienne smiled carelessly.

"If Mr. Harrington mentioned other times, I might not remember. But that year I truly can't forget."

Under Ethan's expectant gaze, her features like a painting, she spoke calmly.

"Five years ago, heavy snow in the capital — it nearly froze quite a few people to death."

Ethan looked as if he'd been punched.

He froze in place, staring at Vivienne, unable to speak.

I followed behind them, slowly tightening my grip on my handkerchief.

Five years ago, Ethan's family was destroyed, and he became a vagrant.

He'd nearly frozen to death in that heavy snow.

His eyes reddened, words on his lips but unable to emerge.

He could only remove the red coral bracelet from his wrist and press it into Vivienne's hands.

He looked at her as if at a treasure lost and found.

"Wait for me! You wait for me! This time, I won't let you leave again!"

He turned and hurried away.

Vivienne held the red coral bracelet, turning back to look at me, her face innocent.

"What does Mr. Harrington mean by this?"