The afternoon sun burned fiercely over the city, turning the concrete roads outside the residential district almost painfully bright. Heat shimmered faintly above the ground, distorting the air as pedestrians moved through the glare with hurried steps.After leaving yet another failed interview, Alexander walked alone through the crowded streets. In one hand, he carried a cheap boxed lunch; in the other, a folder containing his résumés. His expression remained calm, but a trace of exhaustion lingered between his brows, subtle yet unmistakable.He had attended three interviews, each one ended the same way, three humiliations.Three instances of being treated like a liar.If this had happened years ago, his name alone would have been enough to make people lower their voices in fear. Now, dressed in plain clothes and concealing everything he truly was, he had become someone others could mock without hesitation.Even so, Alexander showed no anger. It was not because he could not retaliate

That evening, the city shimmered beneath layers of neon and traffic lights, while crowded sidewalks carried streams of exhausted office workers toward restaurants, subway entrances, and apartment towers. Car horns echoed impatiently in the distance, and warm light spilled from convenience stores lining the streets, giving the entire neighborhood a restless yet comforting energy.Alexander moved slowly through the supermarket aisles with a small shopping basket in hand. Inside it, he placed fresh vegetables, a modest package of beef, a few basic seasonings, and some fruit. These were simple, ordinary items, yet they brought him a sense of calm he had not felt in a very long time.When he paused near the seafood section, his gaze drifted to his reflection in the glass refrigerator door. Only a few days ago, he had been carefully preparing anniversary gifts, believing his future was secure. Now, after being rejected from interviews all day, he was buying discounted vegetables and working

The apartment fell into a heavy, lingering silence after Nahir left, as though even the air had grown tense from everything that had just unfolded. The faint echo of the closing door still lingered in the living room, stretching the moment uncomfortably.Aurelia continued to hold Alexander tightly, her grip almost fearful, as if loosening her arms for even a second might cause him to slip away again. Across from them, Clara leaned lazily against the kitchen counter with her arms folded, her beautiful eyes calm but observant as she watched the scene unfold without interruption.The atmosphere felt suffocating, stretched thin by tension and something far more fragile beneath it.Alexander slowly lowered his gaze toward Aurelia and noticed that her fingers were trembling slightly against his shirt. That small detail unsettled him more than any apology she could have offered, because in nearly three years of marriage, Aurelia Winters had never once lowered her pride like this. Not even on

Aurelia frowned slightly as the phone rang again. Under normal circumstances, she disliked being interrupted during her personal time, especially on a day like this. Today was supposed to be different. Today was meant to repair what had been broken between them.She glanced at Alexander with a hint of apology before answering the call.“Hello?” she said, her tone edged with impatience. “What is it? I’m with my husband. If it’s not important, call later.”Her secretary’s anxious voice came through immediately. “President Aurelia, it’s Mr. Virel.”Aurelia’s brows drew together. “What happened?”The panic in the secretary’s voice was unmistakable. “Mr. Virel has a very high fever. The doctor measured thirty-nine degrees, but he refused treatment. He won’t take medicine, and he won’t go to the hospital.”Aurelia’s expression shifted slightly, though she said nothing.The secretary continued, growing more desperate. “We’ve tried everything. He says he’ll only cooperate if you come.”Alexan

The rain from the previous night had stopped, but the chill it left behind still lingered in the air.Sunlight streamed through the apartment windows, casting long golden beams across the living room. From the outside, the weather looked calm and inviting, almost deceptively peaceful.Alexander felt none of it.A dull ache pulsed behind his eyes as he sat alone at the dining table. Although his clothes from the previous day had already been washed and hung to dry, the cold from walking home through the storm seemed to have settled deep into his bones.A cup of tea rested beside him, untouched and slowly losing its warmth.Across the table lay a neatly prepared document—the divorce agreement. Its pages were carefully arranged, waiting in silence, much like the man sitting in front of them.Alexander checked the time again. It was nine twenty-three.Aurelia had said nothing after receiving his message. There had been no call, no apology, and no attempt at explanation. The silence from h