Chapter 7

"I'd rather never get married in this lifetime than marry Micah. Never!"

Deidre stopped laughing, her face freezing over, her voice sharp: "I think you've misunderstood something. When I said 'fine,' I meant I'll leave this house, and you can all go ahead and live your happy little lives."

Since middle school, Deidre had been a boarding student, and the bond between her and her father, Vincent, had always been tenuous. The estrangement between them was as thin as the paper separating two worlds.

In a blended family, when there are children from previous marriages, someone always ends up hurt. Vincent's fatherly love had been doled out almost entirely to his other children, Valerie and Johnny, leaving only the scraps for her. It was like charity, barely a gesture.

Now, standing on the edge of her limits, she had had enough. Absolutely enough.

"Fine! Fine then!" Vincent, enraged, his face contorted, pointed toward the door and bellowed, "I'll cut ties with you today! Get out! Get out of this house—now!"

"Don't worry, I'm leaving."

The deepest sorrow wasn't in the confrontation itself but in the stillness that followed it. Deidre had imagined this moment countless times, but now that it was happening, she felt a strange tranquility—almost a sense of release.

Like her presence in this house had always been superfluous, an eyesore. She should have left long ago.

Calmly, Deidre turned and went upstairs to her room to pack her things.

Kiera, thrilled on the inside, masked her joy with an expression of feigned concern and helplessness. She muttered, "Don't be so upset. Why argue with a twenty-year-old? I'll go check on her."

When Valerie heard Deidre's words, the sting of the slap on her face lightened. A wicked smile spread across her face, and sweetly, she said, "Dad, you still have me. I'll be a good daughter from now on."

Vincent had been angry with Valerie earlier, but seeing her with that slap mark on her face, now with her pitiful, submissive expression, all the anger drained away. His tone softened as he looked at her, a far cry from the venomous words he had thrown at Deidre.

He spoke gently, as a father would to a daughter he cherished, his voice full of indulgence. "Yes, having you is enough, my dear."

Johnny watched Deidre walk up the stairs, his face contorted with disdain and contempt. This burden had been long overdue to leave.

Upstairs, Deidre entered her room, changed out of the wedding dress, and began packing her suitcase.

She heard footsteps stop at the door. Turning, she saw Kiera leaning against the doorframe, a smile plastered on her face.

It was clear to Deidre that Kiera's smile was full of unmasked triumph, as if her goal had been achieved.

"You don't need to stand there. Don't worry, I won't take anything valuable."

Kiera chuckled lightly. "What valuable things could you even have in this room? Compared to Valerie's, yours is barely furnished. Take whatever you want—it's all just the last little bit of charity our family has given you."

Deidre eyed Kiera for a moment, then silently walked past her and slammed the door shut.

Kiera raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the gesture. Her mood was too good to argue with the brat now. She turned, adopting a concerned expression, and went downstairs.

…

Inside the room, Deidre slid down to the floor, leaning against the door, her eyes closed, her face etched with sorrow.

From this moment on, she would be alone.

She was only twenty, but why did it feel as though she had already lived an entire life?

She didn't want to stay in Salve City anymore. She needed to leave, to disappear far away.

But now, she had no money. Where could she go?

Would she ask Vincent for money?

No, she'd rather die.

But she couldn't die. She had to keep living, to prove to everyone who had mocked her that one day, she would slap their faces with her achievements.

But what other choice did she have? How could she escape this place, this city, if not through death?

Her eyes still closed, Deidre's mind scrambled through every possible future, searching for some shred of hope.

Then, suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind. She opened her eyes, her gaze trembling slightly.

Perhaps she still had one chance left.

She stood up, found her phone, and dialed her mentor's number.

After a few beeps, the call was answered, and her mentor's voice, warm with a smile, came through the receiver. "Deidre?"

"It's me, Professor." Deidre's voice was hoarse.

"Congratulations on your wedding today. If I hadn't been abroad for an academic exchange this week, I would have definitely come to your wedding."

Deidre's throat tightened, her nose burning. Her voice cracked as she responded, "Professor, I… I want to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

Deidre took a deep breath, summoning all the strength she had left before speaking, "Is it… possible for me to reclaim my study-abroad spot?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by her mentor's surprised voice. "Didn't you say you were planning to stay in Salve City after marriage? What's changed? Has your husband agreed to it?"

The wedding had been canceled. She didn't have a husband.

Deidre barely managed a smile, her lips twitching silently, before speaking as calmly as she could. "No… I just think the opportunity to study abroad with a full scholarship is too rare."

"Yes, it is. There are only three spots in the whole school, and you were the top choice. You know, for your field—finance—the offers from top international universities are extremely precious. This means you could stay in a foreign country and work there after graduation."

Deidre opened her mouth but couldn't find the words.

What was there to say?

She had given up a brilliant future for a man she had believed was her one true love, only to end up as a fool, tossed aside in a fleeting illusion.

"Deidre?"

Her mentor's voice cut through the silence, noticing the quiet on the other end.

"Professor, is there still a chance?"

"Well, that's hard to say. The spot you gave up has already been filled by someone else."

Deidre bit her lip, and the sharp pain in her mouth made her bite down harder, blood filling her mouth. She gripped the phone tightly, her voice laced with desperation.

"Really... no chance at all?"