Chapter 2

Whenever Damien mentioned divorce, Autumn would typically leave for a time, returning without fuss and attempting to please him. This had always been the pattern. This time, however, was different. Her resolute departure that day was likely due to the miscarriage.

Regarding the child… a look of disgust crossed Damien's face. Autumn didn't deserve to bear his child; the pregnancy had been accidental. Its loss was, in his view, for the best.

Her divorce settlement was five million dollars. The bank card and divorce papers were always kept together. Had Autumn signed three years prior, she could have received the money without further sacrifice. Instead, chasing a fantasy had cost her time, energy, feelings, and fertility. Dwelling on regrets was futile; life was about moving forward. Besides, having the money was better than nothing.

Bank card in hand, Autumn hailed a late-night taxi to Flery Residences, an upscale development with condos costing $30,000 per square foot. Each floor housed only two generously sized units. One was hers. The property, previously owned by her uncle, Darius Green, had been left to her after her mother, Virginia Green's, death. Autumn hadn't anticipated needing it, but plans change. Now divorced, it offered a welcome refuge.

Autumn entered Penthouse No. 1, Building 7, her suitcase in tow. A cleaning service had been scheduled; the nearly 300-square-foot condo was spotless, yet felt empty. Previously, such a large space alone would have felt cold and lonely. However, after three years of Damien's indifference, she felt neither fear nor loneliness, only a surprising sense of peace. Exhausted but relaxed, Autumn washed up and fell asleep.

At 6:00 am, a familiar alarm blared: "Time to make breakfast for my husband." Instantly awake, Autumn remembered Damien's 8:00 am breakfast, his picky nature, and the one or two hours it took to prepare something he’d even eat. Even after late nights, she'd rise early, only sometimes to have her efforts go to waste. Now, that pressure was gone. She deleted the alarm, donned her eye mask, and returned to sleep, falling almost instantly back into slumber.

At 8:00 am, Damien awoke with a pounding headache—a consequence of his drinking without a hangover remedy. He’d been too tired the previous night to eat Autumn’s soup. On his nightstand sat a glass of steaming water. A smirk touched his lips. Despite her decisive departure, she’d returned. The warm water eased his headache. He then texted Barry: "I won the bet."

Barry was speechless, then impressed. "Can't Autumn stand her ground just once? She spoils you more and more each time!" He whined, "Losing sucks! Damn, the angrier I get! Damien, hurry up and introduce me to a woman who loves me to death, please! I want a taste of that!"

Damien chuckled softly. "Stop acting up." He tossed aside his phone and showered. Downstairs, the familiar bustling presence was absent. "Where is she?" he asked coldly.

Rosetta Braun, his housekeeper, emerged from the kitchen. "Mr. Caldwell, you're up. Breakfast is ready."

Damien frowned. "It's you?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you leave the water on my nightstand?"

Rosetta nodded. "Last night, Mrs. Caldwell said she wouldn’t be home today and asked me to come early."

Damien was speechless. Seeing his grim expression, Rosetta nervously added, "Mr. Caldwell, maybe you should eat first…"

Damien hesitated, then reluctantly approached the table. Only a glass of milk, two slices of toast, a fried egg, and some cheese awaited him. Autumn's usual lavish, varied breakfast spread—seven or eight beautifully presented dishes—was nowhere to be seen. This was, to say the least, disappointing.

His simmering anger reignited. "Is this all you made?" he asked coldly.

Rosetta trembled. "I… I’m sorry, Mr. Caldwell! Mrs. Caldwell always made your breakfast; I don't know your tastes…"

"If you don't know, call and ask!"

Rosetta stammered, "I tried, but I couldn't reach her…"

Damien stared at her silently. Well played, Autumn. Yet, he wasn't concerned. He expected Autumn's return, perhaps even to his office by noon. This was her usual pattern. Regardless, the situation had ruined his appetite. He stormed out, slamming the door, leaving Rosetta bewildered. She anxiously called Autumn, but received no answer. She concluded it was likely due to Damien mentioning divorce again. Autumn usually contacted her about Damien and returned strategically, but this was unprecedented. Rosetta eventually decided Autumn was simply playing hard to get, prolonging her absence to unsettle Damien. It wasn't a bad tactic. Everyone knew Damien didn't truly care for Autumn. He was a desirable man with many temptations. If Autumn didn't actively pursue his affection, she stood little chance.

Autumn, having a Saturday off, slept until noon. Lacking groceries, she ordered takeout. Afterward, she browsed a technology forum. Familiar faces were now industry leaders, but she found no news of her mentor, who she believed was engrossed in research. She vividly recalled her mentor's warm gaze, similar to Virginia's. Yet, she had failed them.

Tears welling, Autumn hesitated before calling Olivia Clements, a university friend. Olivia's usual cheerful response was absent. "You cancel nine out of ten times. I'm your friend, but that doesn't mean you can wear me down like this," Olivia said coldly. "Are you sure you want to meet?"

After marriage, Autumn had prioritized domestic life, unintentionally neglecting friendships, including Olivia’s, who had focused on her thriving tech company. The growing distance made Autumn hesitant. Taking a breath, Autumn said, "I'm getting a divorce."

A pause, then Olivia's blunt reply, "Time and place."

Autumn filed her divorce papers at the courthouse, the finalization set for a month later. She arrived early at the café to meet Olivia, ordering coffee. Midway through, her body tensed, as she unexpectedly encountered Damien less than a day after their divorce.