hree years ago, Elena Nichols pulled a suicidal billionaire back from the edge—only to marry him, bear his child, and get thrown away like a discarded toy when his ex returned with a fake cancer diagnosis. Now she\'s back at the Marriage Registration Office, ready to tie the knot again. This time, not with her ex-husband Adrian Sommers, but with the gentle, mysterious doctor who once mistook her for a gold-digger. But when Adrian shows up with their son, begging her to reconsider, Elena simply lifts her left hand—showing off a diamond ring that doesn\'t belong to him. He regrets. He weeps. But it\'s too late.
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Chapter 1
I never thought I’d run into Adrian Sommers again—especially not at the Marriage Registration Office.
Just as he stood to leave, I opened the door. We collided head-on.
“Elena Nichols?” he blinked, clearly surprised. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
His voice carried that familiar warmth… and a hint of something else—nostalgia? Regret?
“You doing alright?” he asked, as if we hadn’t been strangers for years.
Adrian looked like he wanted to talk. Really talk.
But all I wanted was to get away.
“I’ve been managing,” I replied flatly.
He repeated the words under his breath and nodded slowly, like he was turning the weight of them over in his mind.
Just as I turned to leave, his voice caught me again.
“It’s been what—our first time seeing each other since the divorce, hasn’t it?”
Chapter 2
Life’s cruel sense of irony never fails.
Last time I saw him? Also here, at this same office.
That day, we signed the papers. Four and a half years of marriage ended with the stroke of a pen.
“Need to head back to the house to grab anything?” he asked, casually.
I looked up at the clear blue sky above the parking lot.
“No,” I replied, turning slightly. “I’ve been sorting through things for years now. Turns out, what really matters was never in that house.”
“What I truly wanted to keep was never inside those walls.”
Adrian reached for the car door but froze midway. His voice turned cold, almost accusatory.
“You were the one who insisted on the divorce. For Claire Whitmore. She’s all alone now—and she’s just been diagnosed with cancer. You’re the lucky one here, can’t you back down just once?”
He turned to face me fully, disappointment plain in his eyes.
“Even Aiden gets that she needs compassion right now.”
His righteous tone almost made me laugh. Almost.
Lucky? Me?
I clutched the divorce certificate tighter, my hand trembling.
“There’s nothing left for me to give,” I said quietly. “After all, my family... already became hers a long time ago.”
Chapter 3
Claire Whitmore was the daughter of the Sommers family’s housekeeper.
When Adrian was eight, he and the housekeeper were kidnapped. The kidnappers left Adrian behind to demand ransom—the housekeeper didn’t survive.
Out of guilt, the Sommers took Claire in and raised her like their own.
Years later, Claire and Adrian started a secret relationship behind everyone’s back.
But Claire was soon shipped off overseas by the family.
They kept in touch for a while.
Then, the Sommers lost everything in a bad futures investment. Adrian couldn’t reach Claire again after that.
That winter, I found Adrian on the edge of a bridge, ready to end it all.
I pulled him back.
I helped him through his lowest days. We got married. Had a beautiful little boy.
On our fifth anniversary, Claire suddenly reappeared from abroad.
Her hands trembled as she handed over a diagnosis report, tears streaming down her face. She claimed she vanished because she’d been diagnosed with cancer.
Adrian rushed her to the hospital. After a full battery of tests, the doctors confirmed it.
When I got there, I found Claire clinging tightly to him, sobbing into his chest. Adrian gently stroked her back.
That image... is burned into my memory.
The rest played out exactly how you'd expect. Claire took everything that used to be mine.
The doctors said she needed warmth and family around her. Cancer patients do, after all.
“She’s got no one else,” Adrian said. “I just want to be there for her.”
“But... I heard her father’s still alive,” I replied, testing the waters.
Adrian’s face darkened instantly.
“Who told you that?” he snapped. “Claire made it clear—he’s no one to her. A scumbag she cut ties with long ago.”
The way he defended her made it obvious. I shut up after that.
For two whole months, Adrian practically lived at the hospital.
Meanwhile, I stayed home, alone, raising our three-year-old son.
Aiden was always a sharp kid.
“Mom,” he whispered one night, “our neighbor said Dad has another woman... are you two gonna break up?”
I tucked the blanket under his chin gently.
“Don’t worry,” I lied. “Mom and Dad are staying together.”
His tiny fingers curled around mine.
“You have to be strong, Mom. You’re my favorite person.”
Later that night, after I tucked him in, I closed the door softly and called Adrian.
“Aiden’s been overthinking lately. Can you come home for a bit and spend some time with him?”
His voice was low, careful—as if he didn’t want to wake Claire.
“Yeah. I’ll come back now.”
Then nothing but the soft hiss of static on the line. Neither of us hung up. Neither of us spoke.
Finally, I whispered, “Adrian Sommers.”
Years of marriage made him instantly understand the meaning behind my voice.
“Elena,” he said, “I owe her mother everything. I can’t just walk away from Claire.”
I leaned back against the cold wall, slid to the floor, and buried my face in my hands.
“Then go.”
We ended the call.
And I stayed there on the floor for a long, long time.
When I finally stood up, the dizziness hit like a wave—and I collapsed forward, into darkness.
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