He Lost His Only Love, Then Traded Everything for Her Return

Damian Lancaster had barely set foot in their home in the past three months. After 10 years of loving him, Vivian Bennett looked back on their three-year marriage and realized how much of it had felt like a cruel joke. Lately, his visits home had become fewer and farther between. Vivian counted the days and realized it had already been nearly a week since she last saw him. That morning, after getting ready, she stepped into the living room and found the very man she'd been thinking about sitting on the couch. His elbow rested on his knee, a cigarette nearly burned to the filter between his fingers. His other hand held his phone, impatience written all over his face, his tone carrying the unmistakable edge of someone about to snap. "I'll take care of this. Don't you threaten me with her and the baby!" Vivian stopped in her tracks. Before she could ask what was happening, Damian heard the door open and ended the call. He looked up at her, exhaustion and sleeplessness showing in his bloodshot eyes. Damian stubbed out the cigarette and slowly leaned back against the couch. "Come here." His voice was deep and rough. Vivian glanced at the time. "I can't be late for work." Damian seemed to find that amusing. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it disappeared almost instantly, replaced by sternness. "We need to talk." Vivian remained standing, quietly trying to figure out what this was about. A standoff stretched between them. Finally, Vivian was the one who gave in. She walked over and sat down. "I'm listening." Vivian had called him last night. The one who answered the phone was a woman. "He's asleep. You can call back later." Vivian had expected it. The moment she realized that the voice on the other end belonged to Damian's first love, she had already seen this coming. The day she had been dreading hadn't come too soon—nor too late. In one more month, it would be their third wedding anniversary. Damian sat opposite her, looking more unsettled than usual. He tugged his tie loose in frustration, then pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to ease the tension building inside him. Vivian broke the silence first. "Is this about... divorce?" For a split second, she caught the surprise that flashed across Damian's face. He hadn't expected her to be so blunt. After a brief pause, he gave a quiet response. "Yes." "Because of Rose?" Vivian asked, unable to stop herself. After a long silence, Damian finally admitted, "Yes." Vivian felt as if she could barely breathe. A sharp pain tore through her chest, as if her heart had been split open from the inside. If she hadn't been clenching her hands so tightly at her sides, she might have given herself away. She took a deep breath and forced the pain down, asking him, "When are we going to get it done?" Dragging it out would be undignified. Pretending things could go back to normal was impossible. Letting go was the only choice left. With that thought came a bitter sense of irony that slowly spread through Vivian's heart, mixed with a dull ache she couldn't ignore. Damian was the one who asked her to marry him. Back then, he had stood his ground, pushed through every obstacle, and refused to take no for an answer. Now he was the one asking for a divorce, making the decision with the same firmness and unwavering control as before. Vivian lowered her gaze. When she looked up again, her voice was shaking, but there was a stubbornness in her eyes. "But Damian, you always make every big decision on your own. Did you ever once ask what I wanted?" For the three years they had been married, Vivian had always been the gentle, understanding wife who never made things difficult for him. Her sharp question came from years of hurt that Damian had caused. Just like she said, he had always made choices based on what he thought was right, without considering how she felt. Damian's throat tightened. A struggle flickered deep in his eyes. He wanted to explain everything to Vivian, but after weighing his words over and over, he only said in a cold voice, "I've made my decision. Period." Vivian knew Damian better than anyone. In the business world, he was known for being ruthless and decisive. Once he made a choice, he never looked back. Since he had brought up divorce, it meant he had already thought it through. There was no chance of turning things around. Damian frowned. "The sooner, the better. I'll make sure you're taken care of. Whatever you want, name it." Vivian watched him light another cigarette. He held it between his fingers but didn't take a single puff. She turned her eyes toward the window. "I don't want anything. Whenever you're ready is fine." Vivian pulled out her phone, but her fingers were trembling so badly that she could barely hold it. She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window and turned her back to him, hiding her emotions from his view. Behind her, Damian's voice sounded unusually hesitant. "You can keep this place. The villa in the southern suburbs too. Live wherever you want. And there's also..." Vivian couldn't bring herself to listen anymore. She turned around and interrupted him, "I don't need money or houses. I have a place to stay." If they were going to end things, she wanted a clean break. She didn't want anything tying her to the man who had broken her heart. Vivian glanced at the time, pretending to be calm. "I have to go. I have something to attend to. Have your lawyer draft the agreement and contact me when it's done." She didn't look at Damian again. Another glance would only make the pain even harder to bear. She grabbed her purse from the couch and walked out. "Vivi.." She didn't stop or look back. The door closed with a heavy bang, and she leaned against it outside for a long moment, unable to speak. Inside the room, Damian finally brought the cigarette that was almost burned down to his lips. He took a deep drag, tilted his head back, and slowly released a long breath of smoke. Vivian really did have something to deal with that day. She pulled out her phone to ask for leave, but hesitated. In the end, she didn't request time off—she submitted her resignation. She didn't want to spend another second at that company. After she returned from the company and finished the resignation process, the housekeeper, Susan, smiled and told her that Damian had only just left. They had missed each other. Indeed. They had missed each other. That night, Damian still didn't come home. The dinner at Lancaster's family estate had been arranged two weeks in advance. Vivian had no desire to attend a family gathering like that, but they were still husband and wife for the time being. Until the divorce was official, there were certain occasions she couldn't simply skip. The only person in the Lancaster family who had ever truly accepted Vivian was Damian's grandmother, Elizabeth Sinclair. Everyone else in the family looked at her with deep hostility, as if she had never belonged there in the first place. In fact, she had always been the one overreaching. Vivian came from an ordinary background, while Damian was the man everyone in Northshore City looked up to. She'd once believed that marrying Damian meant finally having a family of her own, a home where she belonged. But in the end, that had only been a beautiful illusion she had created for herself. Around 5 p.m., Vivian wrestled with the idea for a long time but ultimately chose not to call him. She took a cab to Lancaster's family estate alone. Just as she expected, Damian was nowhere to be seen. At the dinner table, Vivian sat quietly and behaved herself, bracing for Damian's mother, Serena Jones's usual round of criticism. But to her surprise, no one brought it up this time. They didn't even question why Damian hadn't shown up with her. Vivian couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she had missed something important. She replayed everything in her head, trying to find the piece she had overlooked, but no matter how hard she tried, she still couldn't figure out what was wrong. The dining room was unusually quiet. The only person that looked genuinely happy was Elizabeth, who smiled warmly as she picked food for Vivian and placed it on her plate. Vivian barely tasted the food throughout the meal. The moment she found an excuse, she quietly left the table. The night breeze was cool, and the garden was wrapped in silence. She sat down on a lounge chair, listening to the laughter and cheerful conversations drifting from inside the house. A bitter, self-mocking smile slowly curled at the corner of her lips. She had always been an outsider. No matter how hard she tried, she would never truly belong. "You don't have to come here anymore. There's no need to keep trying to please anyone." Vivian turned her head and saw Damian had returned. He stood hidden in the shadows, the cigarette in his hand flickering like a tiny ember. Only when he lifted it to his lips and took a deep drag did the faint glow outline his sharp features. Lately, it seemed like Damian had been smoking more than ever. Vivian didn't understand. She had already agreed to the divorce—what else was there for him to worry about? But her voice remained distant. "I wasn't trying to please anyone." She had tried before. After marrying Damian, Vivian had done everything she could to get along with his parents, his sister, and his relatives. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she could never meet their expectations. Once she realized some people's hearts were impossible to warm and some people would never like her, she stopped trying. Damian crushed the cigarette and walked toward her. His face finally appeared under the light, looking like someone who had stepped out of a magazine cover. But the cold expression on his face ruined the illusion. "Let's go." Vivian stood up. "I'll get my purse." Damian followed. "I'm not going home tonight." He paused briefly. "We're staying here."