Chapter 3

3.

I ignored Eamon's text and went to my room to pack.

To make it easier to manage the medical team, I had moved from the master bedroom to a guest room next to the medical wing long ago.

Looking around, there were pitifully few things that belonged to me.

The room was cluttered with his mother's backup medical equipment and stacks of nutritional supplements.

Eamon's books, business awards, and a mahogany desk stood in solemn order.

Only I was confined to a simple wardrobe and an old vanity.

My Chanel suits were outdated, and the few cosmetics I owned had long since expired.

Looking in the mirror at the woman who was only thirty-one but had a dull complexion and tired eyes, my heart clenched painfully.

How could I have let myself become this for Eamon?

A wave of deep guilt washed over me as I thought of the senior partner at my old law firm, who had sighed with regret when I resigned. For the first time in five years, I called him.

The phone was answered on the first ring.

"Elara, you finally called me."

I felt a mix of shame and remorse.

"I'm sorry, Lucas. I let you down back then. I was too ashamed to face you, but now I want to..."

"Don't say that. You can come back anytime you want. I'll have HR draw up the contract right now. You can resume your senior consultant position next week."

"Lucas... thank you."

After hanging up, my calloused fingers trembled as I held the phone, and tears streamed down my face.

Thank God.

I still had a way out.

Driven by a final ounce of responsibility, I organized his mother's medical plans and the contact information for her care team, leaving them on the table.

Just as I was about to leave with my Rimowa suitcase, Eamon walked in with his executives.

The scent of disinfectant in the air made them all frown.

"God, this place... it smells like a hospital."

"Eamon, you need to upgrade your ventilation system."

Seeing the open door to the medical wing, Eamon immediately understood.

His face turned pale, and he strode into my room, hissing in a low voice.

"Elara, didn't I tell you to handle this? How can we have guests with this smell? Go tell the nurse to fix it."

I looked up, my face a blank mask.

"Why should I?"

Eamon, who had been annoyed just a moment ago, was stunned.

He stared at me, the usually gentle and obedient woman, and asked in disbelief.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, why should I? Let's get this straight. That's your mother, not mine. I'm her guardianship supervisor, not her maid."

"Elara, you're insane..."

Before he could finish, I threw the fake marriage certificate on the floor.

Dragging my suitcase, I looked him straight in the eye.

"Yes, I was insane. Insane to believe in your so-called 'shared future.' But today, I see you for who you are, Eamon. We're done."

The wheels of the suitcase screeched across the hardwood floor, a starkly different sound from when I had moved in five years ago, full of hope.

Eamon was no longer the man with stars in his eyes who had held me and said, "Welcome home, my partner." Now, his eyes were dark as he called out to me.

"I just didn't have time for a wedding, so you had to make a scene like this in front of my team?"

The room fell silent.

I turned back, incredulous.

Even now, he was still blaming me?

"Elara, Eamon is really busy, and there are always unexpected acquisitions. If you want a wedding, why can't you just discuss it properly? Why push him like this?"

Before Eamon could speak again, Clarice chimed in, defending him with a look of distress.

The other executives also sided with Eamon.

"Yeah, this line of work is high-pressure. There's no need to get hung up on formalities."

"The CEO is already exhausted from running the company. She chose to be the lady of the manor, living off the family trust fund, yet she can't even handle this small thing."

"What can she even do without Eamon?"

Suddenly, all the female executives were pointing fingers at me.

It was as if they were the new generation of independent women, and I was just a parasite, clinging to a man with no ambition, deserving of their judgment.

But who among them knew the truth?

The entire estate's operating budget, the staff's salaries, the expenses for social events―all were meticulously planned by me.

Even the fees for the most expensive neuro-rehabilitation specialist on his mother's top-tier medical team were paid for out of my pre-marital savings and investment returns, because Eamon always claimed the company's "cash flow was tight."

Meanwhile, his dividends were all spent on "business expenses" with Clarice―attending global defense forums together, ordering custom matching ski gear, even going on "business trips" to Paris.

My fingers, gripping the handle of my suitcase, turned white. Thinking of all my sacrifices, a sarcastic smile crept onto my lips.

"That's right, Mr. Sterling is so mighty and superior. Isn't that why he's sleeping with his own subordinate?"

"As for this mess with you and your mother, from this day forward, I'm done playing along."