Chapter 2

Edmund returned home at dawn.

An urn containing Amelia's father's ashes sat on the table. Amelia curled into a small ball, hugging her knees with her head buried.

The sudden light startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the face she once loved deeply. Now, it churned her stomach.

Edmund placed a box of cash beside her, his face blank.

"I got this today, but it was too late. Don't be too upset. I'll honor your father's wishes and go through with the wedding. Rest early," he said.

His words lacked warmth, each one sounding like a rehearsed line.

Amelia once thought this was just Edmund's nature-proud and unyielding. No matter how cold he seemed, she always met him with warmth.

But after seeing his attentiveness to Rosalyn Hall, she found it all pointless.

Edmund paused at his bedroom door. Normally, after something like this, Amelia would throw herself into his arms, sobbing and begging him to stay.

He turned back, pulling out the silver necklace.

"I passed by a shop today and thought this suited you, so I picked it up," he said.

Amelia didn't take it.

Edmund had given her many inexpensive gifts before, and she treasured each one.

She always believed his modest means didn't reflect a lack of care.

If he didn't care, why would he give her gifts on every birthday?

Now, she understood. His "picking it up" was as casual as it sounded.

"You don't like it?" Edmund asked, frowning with irritation. He tossed the necklace into the trash.

His patience was always thin. Yet, Amelia had overheard him tirelessly coaxing Rosalyn to eat after she skipped a single meal.

She looked up at him, a faint smile on her tear-streaked face. "I don't like it. Should a Hopewell heiress wear something so cheap? I think a sapphire necklace suits me better."

She caught a flicker of panic and guilt in Edmund's eyes.

Before he could respond, his phone rang.

Seeing the name on the screen, his lips curved into an unstoppable smile. He walked into the bedroom to answer, offering Amelia no explanation.

Amelia flipped on the TV, which was synced to Edmund's phone. His face, beaming with tender warmth, filled the screen.

"The Amelia's father is gone now. Can you give me a smile? You've kept me out of the house for days. Don't forget I gave you that villa in Riverhaven," he said.

Rosalyn, with a haughty smirk, held up the sapphire necklace to her neck.

"Since you put in the effort, I'll let you in tonight. But you'd better be here in half an hour!" she demanded.

"Not a second late!" Edmund agreed eagerly, then left the bedroom.

Amelia's heart felt pierced by countless needles, her breathing tight and labored.

She and Edmund had gone on countless dates, but she was always the one waiting for him to show up late.

Once, she tentatively asked if he could be on time. He stormed off, face cold.

"If you think I'm too late, you don't have to meet me. I have plenty to do, unlike someone who spends all day playing," he snapped.

After that, Amelia never brought it up again.

"Your father's passing was sudden. The company has a lot to handle, so I won't be back tonight," Edmund said.

He grabbed his coat, accidentally knocking the urn off the table.

As it fell, Amelia lunged forward, catching it just in time. Her arm slammed into the table's edge, a deep gash opening across her skin.