Lyra went rigid.

A vise of pain squeezed her heart as she closed her eyes, limp and defeated, and silently endured.

When it was over, she glanced at Lucien, fast asleep beside her. Forcing herself up, she fumbled in the nightstand for the pack of pills and swallowed one dry.

A fire burned in her stomach, but she felt nothing else. Lying next to Lucien, she stared into the darkness until sleep finally claimed her.

The next day.

The alarm blared, and Lyra woke instantly. The space beside her was already empty.

She quickly got up to get ready, only to run into Lucien, who was about to leave for work.

He stood arrow-straight in a perfectly tailored suit, his eyes placid and unreadable. "Take care of it."

Lyra froze.

Her heart gave another violent lurch.

She didn't tell him she already had. "Fine," she answered noncommittally.

He didn't want her child.

Good. She didn't want to have his child anymore either.

Satisfied with her answer, Lucien turned to go, then seemed to remember something. "I had something to do yesterday, forgot about City Hall. We'll go another time."

This was the third time she had heard that exact line from him.

She had nothing left to say. "Okay. Whenever you have time."

Her composure, far calmer than he expected, made him pause and study her for a moment. But in the end, he said nothing and left.

The moment Lyra arrived at the firm, she marched to the HR director's office. "You can cancel my marriage leave."

The director looked up in surprise. "What happened? I thought you were getting married. Did you postpone the wedding?"

Lyra shook her head. "No. I'm not getting married."

Seeing the shock on the director's face, she handed over a stack of documents.

"Also, I've applied for a permanent transfer to the Berlin office. I leave next month."

The director was even more stunned, confirming again and again. "Are you sure? You have no foundation over there. Moving to Berlin means starting from scratch."

Lyra smiled, her expression deadly serious.

"The senior executive positions here are saturated. If I want to move up, starting over is the only way."

After leaving HR, Lyra returned to her office, opened a file, and buried herself in her work.

It was already 9 PM when she left.

Back home, Lyra saw Lucien at the dining table, intensely focused on his tablet.

His sleeves were casually rolled up, revealing strong forearms.

Seeing her, Lucien closed the tablet and looked at her, his voice calm. "Sylvie's back. Did you know?"

"I know."

Lyra met his gaze evenly. "She was the one who brought you home last night when you were drunk."

Lucien paused.

Then, with a slight raise of his eyebrow, he sidestepped the topic. "Sylvie's birthday is in a few days. She wants to invite you to her party."

Lyra stared at him. "She wants to invite me, so why are you the one telling me?"

Lucien's tone was matter-of-fact. "She's working at my research institute now. It was just convenient."

A faint, mocking smile touched Lyra’s lips.

She remembered clearly. Five years ago, when Sylvie left, Lucien had sworn he would never work with her again as long as he lived.

Now that she was back, it was as if those words had never been spoken.

Lyra couldn't be bothered to dig up the past. "Got it," she said, ending the conversation.

A few days later, on Sylvie’s birthday.

Lucien was gone before Lyra even woke up.

After getting ready, Lyra went to the walk-in closet. Staring at the racks of white dresses, she felt a strange sense of detachment.

She suddenly realized how pathetically she had loved him, to the point of unconsciously mimicking Sylvie.

Sylvie loved white, so she wore white, even though the color she truly loved was a fiery, brilliant red.

Now that she had decided to leave, it was time to start with the dress.

From the deepest corner of the closet, Lyra pulled out an old dress from five years ago. A blazing red mermaid gown that perfectly hugged her stunning figure.

Looking at the familiar yet strange reflection in the mirror, she swept her straight hair into an updo and painted her lips a bold, defiant red.

At noon, Lyra arrived at the designated restaurant.

As she reached the door of the private room, she heard a sharp voice from inside. "What? Sylvie, you invited Lyra? Why would you do that? What could she possibly have to talk about with us?"

"Exactly. She went to some state school. We all graduated from Harvard or Yale, PhDs at the minimum. If it weren't for Lucien, she wouldn't even be allowed in the same room as us."

"Lucien, give us a straight answer. Now that Sylvie's back, who are you choosing? Her or Lyra?"