He arrived at the hotel, unpacked his clothes, and collapsed on the bed, falling fast asleep.
Thick curtains blocked out the setting sun, and he slept until nightfall before waking up naturally.
When he opened his eyes and saw the unfamiliar surroundings, he was momentarily disoriented.
He got up and took a quick shower.
Then he turned on his computer and started handling matters related to studying abroad.
Jonathan had sent over the email address of a mentor in Desland, suggesting he reach out in advance.
He only knew basic Deslian, but to live in Desland, he would definitely need systematic language study.
After thinking for a moment, he used the money in his bank account to sign up for a language class and checked his balance.
He hadn’t taken a single cent from his mother-in-law or Jessica.
The money in his account was solely from his scholarship, since the Wilder family had covered all his mother’s medical expenses in her final years.
He knew he had to pay them back eventually, so he started considering ways to make a living.
He reopened the blog he hadn’t touched in ages, where he had published a few essays.
Back in school, he was known for his writing skills—many classmates had asked him to write love letters—and he had the habit of blogging.
From the second post onward, he had charged his readers, and surprisingly, people had still paid to read.
He hadn’t expected to find a considerable amount of money in his blog’s backend.
He withdrew it all.
After searching for a while, he finally found his phone under the bed—probably dropped while he was asleep.
He pressed the power button a few times, but the screen didn’t light up.
He plugged in the charger and turned it on.
The moment the phone was on, a flurry of messages and missed calls flooded the screen.
He thought it was Jonathan reaching out about the scholarship, but to his surprise, it was all from Jessica.
Jessica. “Jordan has a fever and wants oat porridge. Make some.”
Jessica. “Where are you? Why aren’t you at home?”
Jessica. “Where’s the oat kept? What kind of tantrum are you throwing? Even with a sick child, you’re still being petty? Come back now!”
Chris stared at the messages for a few seconds and found them ridiculous.
That was Michael’s child, not his—why should he be anxious?
Besides, that house belonged to Jessica, so technically it was her home.
After five years, she didn’t even know where the oat was stored—wasn’t that hilarious?
Since they had already decided to divorce, it was better not to get too entangled.
So he didn’t respond.
Unexpectedly, Jessica didn’t give up.
Just as he was about to put his phone down, a call came through.
It was Jessica’s younger sister, Sophie Wilder, who launched into a barrage of scolding the moment he answered.
Sophie said, “How can you be so heartless? The child is sick and you don’t even care. My sister told you to come back and cook! The whole family is waiting for you!”
Chris frowned. “Who’s waiting for me?”
“My sister, Michael, Jordan, and I—that’s a lot of people. Come back now. Jordan wants spaghetti. Takeaways aren’t healthy. You come back and do the cooking.”
‘What a commanding tone,’ thought Chris.
Sitting up straight, he said, “First, Jordan isn’t my child, so I have no obligation to take care of her. Second, if you want to wait, go ahead—I’m not coming back. Lastly, from a medical perspective, children shouldn’t eat spaghetti when they’re sick. It’s hard to digest.”
On the other end of the line, Sophie was stunned—Chris had actually said so much in one go?
“Sophie, is that Chris? Let me speak to him,” said Michael.
Unwillingly, Sophie handed the phone over to Michael, pouting.
“Hello, Chris. We haven’t met yet, but I still want to apologize. It wasn’t right of me to come to your house without your permission. But Jordan was sick and wouldn’t cooperate. If you’re upset, I’ll leave with her right away. We shouldn’t make you feel like you can’t even go home.”
His words put Chris in a tough spot—making it seem like if he didn’t return, he was being cruel to a child.
His lips felt dry, and he instinctively licked them.
Over the years, he had gotten used to appeasing Jessica.
He wasn’t good at arguing and didn’t know how to refute this on the spot.
But he still wasn’t going back.
“Mr. Hall, we’ve never met because when I rescued Jessica years ago, you had already been taken away. But that doesn’t matter. We don’t really need to meet.”
From the side, Sophie shouted, “What do you mean by his home? This house was bought by my sister! She can let anyone she wants in! Who is he to act like the owner?”
“Sophie,” Jessica said sternly, clearly unhappy. “Enough.”
But Sophie remained defiant. “Am I wrong? You bought the house! What does it have to do with him? He’s just a gold-digging freeloader!”
She had always been biased against him—especially after his marriage to Jessica.
She idolized Michael and believed Chris had stolen his place.
Even though their mother had explained many times that Michael had gotten married abroad, Sophie never listened.
There was no need for Chris to endure her baseless insults.
“She’s right,” he said. “That’s not my home.”
Then he hung up and put the phone on silent.
Sophie and Michael stared at the disconnected call in disbelief.
“I can’t believe Chris dared to hang up on me! Does he still think he’s part of this family?”
Jessica, however, felt uneasy.
She didn’t know why, but she had a strong feeling that she had missed something important today.
She had called Chris earlier in the afternoon because she wanted to make up for forgetting his birthday.
She had planned to take him out for dinner.
But it had all gone wrong.
Years of being in a high position had spoiled her temperament—she couldn’t bring herself to swallow her pride and make peace with him.
The phone screen lit up with a new message.
Chris picked up his phone to take a look.
Jessica. “This is your last chance. If you don’t come back, I’ll delete your fingerprint and change the passcode. You’ll never be able to return.”
‘What a threat.’ Chris shook his head helplessly.
They had already signed the divorce papers. If she wanted to erase his fingerprint, so be it.
He replied, “Okay.”
Jessica, furious, immediately called him.
He didn’t answer.
His mood for writing had been completely ruined.
He sat in front of the computer for a long time, not moving, his body as stiff as a statue.
He couldn’t understand—how had his life turned out this way?
If he hadn’t agreed to marry Jessica back then, he might have already become a renowned doctor, shining with talent in the operating room.
The room was dim, with only the faint glow of the computer screen illuminating his expressionless profile.
He was undeniably handsome.
Since middle school, he had always attracted girls wherever he went.
But he had been entirely focused on studying, unwilling to waste his talent, and had ignored every girl’s affections.
Until he met Jessica.
She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
But her tears fell on his heart at a moment when he felt most helpless.
They were scorching.
So scorching, he couldn’t bear to turn her away.
It had been a vicious cycle.
If he hadn’t married her, his mother wouldn’t have gotten the treatment she needed and might have died even sooner.
There had been no way out.
Luckily, the cycle only lasted five years.
He had reached the end and could finally start over.
His love for Jessica had already been ground to dust by day after day of despair.
What remained was only regret.
Regret that he had never won her love.
He even felt a little jealous of Michael.
The phone lit up again.
Jessica. “This is your last chance. Tell me where you are. I’ll come pick you up.”
Chris was puzzled. ‘Why come pick him up? To bring him back and watch her and Michael play happy family?’
