Nadia flew seventeen hours just to spend her birthday with her husband and daughter.

But not only had they forgotten, they were busy preparing a birthday gift for another woman.

At 9:07 p.m., her flight landed. Her phone kept buzzing beside her thigh. More than thirty birthday wishes filled the screen at once, all from coworkers and friends.

Nadia scrolled through them one by one, but her heart sank lower and lower.

Not a single one was from Rodger Zander.

No missed calls. No texts. The message she had sent him three days ago was still marked “unread.”

He must be too busy.

She told herself that again and again.

A little after ten, the car arrived at the villa. The porch lights were bright, but the house was silent.

Mrs. Weiss opened the door, and the shock on her face was too obvious to hide.

“Madam,” she said, “why are you here so suddenly?”

Nadia stepped inside. “Where are Rodger and Eileen?”

“Miss Eileen is upstairs. Sir hasn’t come home yet.”

Just as she had expected.

Nadia handed her suitcase to Mrs. Weiss and went straight upstairs.

Eileen’s bedroom door was half open, and warm light spilled into the hallway. Nadia gently pushed the door open and saw her daughter sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of an easel.

The wooden palette was covered with oil paint—cobalt blue, scarlet, ocher. Under the desk lamp, an unfinished oil painting glowed softly. The brushstrokes outlined a woman’s face: chestnut curls and a gentle, meaningful smile.

It was Stephanie’s smile.

“Eileen.”

The brush stopped. Eileen turned around. When she recognized Nadia, a flash of joy crossed her face, but the smile disappeared almost at once.

“Mommy, you’re back!”

Nadia crossed the room, knelt down, and pulled her daughter into her arms. Eileen’s body went stiff at first, then slowly relaxed, but her arms still hung at her sides.

“Mommy.” Eileen stepped back a little. “You’re blocking the light.”

Nadia’s hand froze halfway in the air. “Are you painting Stephanie?”

“Yes. Aunt Stephanie is really as pretty as a fairy.” Eileen’s brush moved across the canvas, smooth and confident. “Daddy said she’ll definitely like this as a birthday gift.”

“Eileen.” Nadia spoke, her voice weaker than she had expected. “Do you know what tomorrow is?”

The brush stopped. Eileen frowned at the canvas.

“Tuesday?”

“I mean the date.”

Eileen glanced at her mother’s face, then looked back at the painting. “I don’t know. Mommy, please. Move aside.”

Nadia took one step to the side. Eileen lowered her head and continued mixing colors. Her focused little profile made it seem as if Nadia had never existed at all.

…

Nadia walked into the bedroom and called Rodger right away.

It rang five times. Six. Seven.

“Nadia, I’m in a meeting.”

“I’m home.”

“Oh. You should have told me earlier.”

“I sent you a message. You never read it.”

There was a short silence on the other end. Then a sweet female voice came through, so close it sounded like she was right beside him.

“Rodger, help me zip this up.”

It was Stephanie Klein.

“I’m busy right now,” Rodger said, his voice covering the woman’s. “If there’s something, we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Rodger—”

The call ended suddenly. The busy tone stabbed into her ear like a needle.

Nadia did not sleep at all that night. She stayed awake until the morning light came through the window and stung her eyes.

In Country A, because of the time difference, today was her actual birthday. Two weeks ago, she had booked a table at the garden restaurant early.

She still decided to call him one more time. She wanted to clear everything up face-to-face.

“Are you free for lunch? Just the three of us. You, me, and Eileen.”

“Sure. Send me the address.” He hung up as soon as he finished speaking.

No happy birthday. No small talk. No concern. He did not even stay on the line for one more second.

Nadia should have been used to it by now. On Rodger’s list of priorities, she had always been the last item, like a note at the end of a file that could be deleted at any time.

Still, she sent him the restaurant name, with a ridiculous little bit of hope left in her heart.

Nadia went into Eileen’s room to tell her about lunch with Daddy, only to find that she was still asleep.

Then her eyes fell on Stephanie’s portrait again. Beside it, there was now a card. In crooked handwriting, it said:

[Aunt Stephanie, happy birthday! You are the prettiest lady in the world. You always make Daddy and me laugh so hard. Can you be my mommy? I love you more than candy!]

Nadia read those words three times, and her mind went completely blank.

She stood there for a long time, suddenly feeling like she was the punchline of a joke she had written herself.

She did not remember how she got back to the bedroom. When she came back to herself, she had already opened her suitcase.

At first, her movements were slow. Then they became faster and faster. Besides her clothes, there were also the gifts she had brought. One by one, she stuffed them back into the suitcase.

…

At noon, Eileen had been taken out by Mrs. Weiss and had not come back yet. Nadia sat on the sofa, scrolling through her phone, while a bad feeling slowly crawled up her spine.

Her phone buzzed. Instagram pushed a new post from a friend.

Stephanie had posted a video. Nadia’s thumb tapped it open before she could stop herself.

The camera first showed the elegant French food on the table: foie gras, beef bourguignon, ratatouille, and a half-eaten cheese platter. Then it moved to the right, showing Rodger’s smiling face, his eyes full of tenderness. Then it moved left, showing Eileen leaning over to kiss Stephanie on the cheek, laughing as she said, “Aunt Stephanie, I love you. Daddy loves you too.”

Nadia locked the screen. Her stomach tightened.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed again. A text from Rodger popped up.

[Too busy. Let’s do lunch another day.]

Nadia stared at the words and let out a bitter laugh.

It was not that he had no time for lunch.

He had simply chosen another table.

And she—the woman who had flown seventeen hours to come back, the woman who had booked a restaurant two weeks early and waited for him—was nothing more than an unwanted intruder.

Nadia walked to the sink and looked up at the face in the mirror. The Nadia who used to have light in her eyes, the Nadia who smiled without fear, had disappeared long ago without a sound.

She turned on the faucet, scooped up a handful of cold water, and splashed it hard onto her face.

“Nadia,” she said in a low voice. Her voice was hoarse, but every word was clear. “It’s been seven years. Stop being naive enough to think that giving in will get you anything back.”

She paused and took a deep breath.

“It’s time to wake up.”

She called her lawyer.

“Draft a divorce agreement for me.”

After signing it, Nadia sealed the divorce papers and her ring inside an envelope.

“Mrs. Weiss, please make sure you give this to Rodger yourself.”

After that, she pulled her suitcase and left. Without looking back, she walked toward the door. Sunlight fell on her shoulders, but it brought no warmth.

On the way to the airport, Nadia called her assistant.

“Prepare the documents for my resignation from Zander Group.”

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Nadia looked out the car window at the streets rushing past. Her voice was soft, but steady.