Chapter 1

Three days before our silver anniversary.

I stumbled upon his secret—a hidden basement.

Every inch from floor to ceiling was covered in photos of another woman.

I realized that from his thirties to his sixties, his heart belonged to someone else.

Those crucial business trips, those mysterious souvenirs—they all made sense now, seeing the radiant smiles in the photos.

I stared at my own hands, marked with the signs of hard work.

Suddenly, I felt exhausted.

Declan was away on a business trip, but his assistant showed up at my door.

"Mrs. Carter, we really need that document. It's important to us."

Standing at the door, Declan's assistant looked at me with respect.

I tried calling Declan three times, but there was no answer.

"Are you sure it's in the study?" The assistant nodded politely.

I reluctantly went upstairs to search for it.

I rarely entered Declan's study. He didn't like to be disturbed while working.

As I fumbled around the desk, a pen holder caught my eye.

It seemed familiar, but I couldn't place where I'd seen it before.

The assistant's voice urged me from downstairs.

As I exited, I accidentally knocked over the pen holder.

With a loud thud, an opening appeared behind the bookshelf.

I was taken aback, hearing the assistant calling from below.

I quickly went down and handed over the document. The assistant seemed concerned by my expression.

"Mrs. Carter, is everything alright?"

I pressed my lips together and shook my head.

After he left, I went back to the study.

Staring at the lit basement, I hesitated.

My instincts screamed not to enter.

But my legs moved on their own, leading me inside.

The room was bathed in a warm yellow light.

Yet, upon entering, I was completely frozen.

The walls were filled with photos of one person.

Some were faded, others discolored, clearly aged.

Yet, they were carefully framed by the owner.

I stepped closer and gently touched a photo.

Not a speck of dust—indicating the owner's deep care for these photos.

The subject was always the same person.

She looked familiar—I recognized her at once.

It was Declan’s first love, Nora.

The wall was covered with photos of young Nora.

Reading, shopping, dining—captured in many moments.

The most recent showed her, with some gray hair, feeding pigeons.

She was wearing a blue traditional dress, timelessly elegant and graceful.

Her smile was bright as she looked at the camera.

The thought that Declan might have taken this photo inexplicably upset me.

Nora was Declan's first love. Back when he was at his lowest.

She left without a word to study abroad.

But the travel expenses were covered by my father, who felt sorry for her troubled home life.

Because of this, for a long time after I married Declan.

He treated me coldly.

I quietly endured a lot of grievances.

Looking closely at these photos.

There were quite a few of them together.

Declan appeared relaxed in front of the camera.

I rarely saw him so carefree.

I looked at my hands, marked with the toll of labor, dull and lifeless.

I sat quietly in the room, staring at the wall of photos.

I thought about many things.

Years ago, to be with Declan, I had a falling out with my parents.

I almost missed seeing my father one last time.

During Declan’s three years of studying abroad, I managed the household through all its ups and downs.

I took care of his bedridden mother every day.

I even financially supported him during his studies.

We had a harmonious time together.

During that period, we had our son, Theo.

But back then, Declan’s career was just starting.

He didn't have time for household matters.

I took on everything so he could focus on his career.

During that time, he treated me very well.

Though it was tough, it was also happy.

When did things change? It was when Nora returned from her messy divorce abroad.

I remember when I heard the news, Theo was only two.

I worried that what I had was just an illusion, like a moonlit reflection on water.

Sensing my unease, Declan comforted me for a long time.

He said many things, promising he wouldn’t look back.

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, without a hint of guilt, I felt relieved.

Looking back, perhaps he did have genuine feelings, but true feelings can change in an instant.

Suddenly, my heart felt swollen and heavy, like a sponge soaked in water.

My hands trembled uncontrollably.

He must have struggled to hide it from me.

It's been most of a lifetime.