Wyatt Shaw only noticed something was wrong when he saw the red rash breaking out on Yvonne Sutton’s face. He immediately took a bite of the cake and realized it was taro cake. But when he looked back at Yvonne, she was still eating it, one bite after another.

"Don’t eat that," he said, trying to stop her.

"It’s actually quite good," Yvonne Sutton said, taking another bite.

"Stop eating!" Wyatt Shaw roared.

Yvonne Sutton reluctantly put down her fork and looked up at Wyatt Shaw.

"It’s just an allergic reaction. It’s not a big deal."

As she spoke, more bumps appeared on her face. It grew increasingly itchy, and she couldn’t resist scratching it a couple of times, causing a large patch of skin to turn red.

Wyatt Shaw’s eyes reddened, and his lips trembled, rendering him speechless.

"I know you just got it mixed up. Hannah Abbott is the one who likes taro cake. I’m the one who’s allergic to it. I’m Yvonne Sutton. I..." Yvonne wanted to say, ’Take a good look at me, and don’t get us mixed up again,’ but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words.

She... in truth, she was deeply hurt as well.

Wyatt Shaw’s expression darkened. He swept all the taro cake from the table onto the floor. Under the stunned gazes of the people around them, he pulled Yvonne Sutton up and strode outside.

"Sir, is something wrong?" a waiter asked, rushing over.

"Who told you to serve taro cake?" Wyatt Shaw bellowed.

The waiter was taken aback for a moment. "Sir, you’re the one who specifically told us this lady likes taro cake."

Wyatt Shaw irritably pushed the waiter aside and pulled Yvonne Sutton away, striding out.

Once they were in the car, neither of them said a word the entire drive.

There should have been something to say, but perhaps at that moment, words were pointless.

When they arrived at the hospital, Yvonne Sutton was taken to the emergency room.

After a series of tests and an IV drip, by the time the whole ordeal was over, Yvonne Sutton was so exhausted she fell asleep.

She didn’t know how long she had slept, but when she opened her eyes, the sky outside was already bright.

She saw Wyatt Shaw standing on the terrace outside. His back was slightly slumped, like a deflated balloon. She let out a faint sigh and went outside, only to see a pile of cigarette butts at his feet.

’He must have been out here for a very, very long time. What was he thinking about all this while?’

"I’m okay now," Yvonne Sutton said.

Startled to find her behind him, he quickly wiped his face and turned around. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale and sallow, and he looked as dejected as if he’d lost everything.

"I’m really okay," Yvonne Sutton couldn’t help but say again.

Hearing her say that made Wyatt Shaw’s eyes turn even redder, but he still managed a faint smile.

"I’m sorry."

"You just got them mixed up. Next time..."

"There won’t be a next time."

"What?"

"We..." Wyatt Shaw only managed to say that one word before he couldn’t continue. He lowered his head, remaining silent for a long time before looking up again. "Let’s get a divorce."

Yvonne Sutton froze. She never expected him to say the word "divorce."

"I’m sorry. I can’t lie to you, and I can’t lie to myself. I can’t forget Hannah Abbott. If we continue like this, we’ll only make both of us miserable."

Yvonne Sutton had been reaching out her hand to pat his shoulder and comfort him, but now she could only let it fall helplessly.

"Yvonne, I’m sorry."

"I accept your apology, but don’t say it again." Yvonne Sutton gave a bitter smile. "At least you never intentionally deceived me, so I can forgive you for that."

Wyatt Shaw lowered his head and didn’t speak again, nor did he look up at her.

Yvonne Sutton took a deep breath. "Then let’s leave it at that. Goodbye."

Yvonne Sutton returned to the country alone. A month after she got back, she and Wyatt Shaw finalized their divorce. On the day of the divorce, he was expressionless the entire time, not even sparing her a second glance. They were like complete strangers.

’He really is something else,’ she thought. ’To be able to turn his emotions on and off so freely.’ She couldn’t do that. That day, holding the divorce certificate, her heart ached for a long, long time.

「One year later.」

Yvonne Sutton was sitting on the subway, on the phone with Claire Lawrence.

"I really can’t get in touch with Wyatt Shaw. He’s such a big shot, how could a small-time actress like me ever get to see him? But I did ask Mr. Rhodes to check, and Wyatt Shaw’s message was that the money I owe should just be paid back to you. I have to say, your ex-husband is a pretty stand-up guy. He didn’t shortchange you on the money, unlike my ex... PTUI, PTUI, let’s not talk about him. You were the fool, asking for nothing in the divorce. But this 300 million is mine to give, and you have to take it. Of course, I can’t pay it all back at once, so I’ll have to do it slowly."

Yvonne Sutton froze for a moment when Claire Lawrence mentioned Wyatt Shaw. For the past year, she had done her best not to think about him. And she had succeeded. But when someone else brought him up, his face and all their beautiful memories together would uncontrollably surface in her mind.

"Yvonne, nothing in this world is reliable. Only money gives you security—well, for me, there’s also you. But this money should be yours, so there’s no need to refuse it again. You..."

"Alright, alright. You already transferred it to my account. I’ll accept it."

"I was just worried you’d be silly enough to try and return it to him."

"Didn’t you just say he’s a big shot? How would I even get to see him?"

"Heh, good point."

Just then, two middle school girls sat down next to her.

One of the girls was playing music—a fast-paced song with a strong beat. It seemed to be very popular lately; you could hear it several times just walking down the street, with every other store playing it.

"Huh? You’re listening to ’Bad-tempered Princess’ too?" Claire Lawrence exclaimed.

"It’s not me..."

"You’re really taking this well. That song is by Candice Yates, and Candice Yates is your ex-husband’s lover. You’re telling me you don’t mind that at all?"

"Huh?"

"Wait, you didn’t know?"

Yvonne Sutton let out a breath. She really hadn’t known. She didn’t like listening to music, and she cared even less for entertainment gossip, so she was completely in the dark about it.

When Claire Lawrence heard that she didn’t know, she let out a couple of dry laughs and quickly hung up the phone.

"Candice Yates is so cool. I love her," said the middle school girl who was playing the music.

"She looks killer in that racing suit. I heard her album is selling really well, it’s number one on all the charts."

"Of course it’s selling well. I mean, look who her boyfriend is."

"Whoa, it’s not really the Crown Prince of the Rhodes Group, is it?"

"It’s gotta be him. A couple of days ago, the paparazzi snapped photos of them going in and out of a hotel together."

"That Crown Prince is pretty mysterious, but I still managed to find a photo of him online. He’s seriously handsome, way better looking than those male celebrities."

"So they’re a perfect match! I wonder when the Rhodes Crown Prince will marry our Candice. I can’t wait!"

Yvonne Sutton just smiled at their words. ’So, Wyatt Shaw really can’t forget Hannah Abbott. She’s dead, and he’d rather be with a woman who looks just like her. I just don’t know if he’s clear-headed or confused right now... but I guess it doesn’t matter whether he’s one or the other anymore.’

The two middle school girls got off the train. The music disappeared, and those two people vanished from her world as well.

The train car was filled with ordinary people, all hurrying somewhere. ’This is my world now.’

Just then, a little boy, about five or six years old, came running in her direction, his cheeks puffed out in anger.

The subway lurched twice, and the little boy lost his balance, stumbling hard toward the seat opposite Yvonne Sutton. Yvonne quickly stood up to catch the child. To keep him from hitting his head, she cushioned his fall with her hand, but due to the momentum, her own hand was slammed hard against the seat.

’Sss... that hurts!’