Moana’s apartment felt quieter than usual.

Moana sat on the edge of the bed, clutching a pillow like a child who had lost her grip. It had been three days since she left the hospital, but the smell of antiseptic still seemed to cling to her skin. Every time she closed her eyes, what she saw was no longer the future—but an empty, white, and silent space.

That loss hadn’t gone away. It had simply settled in. Moana had started snapping at people for no apparent reason.

"Damn it! Why did I have a miscarriage?!" She yanked at her own hair.

The apartment door suddenly opened slowly. Sean entered without making a sound. His suit was neat; his face looked tired in an elegant way—a tiredness he’d feigned so he’d appear sad in front of his girlfriend.

Moana jumped to her feet.

"Why are you just getting home now, Sean?" she asked quickly. Too quickly. As if afraid Sean would disappear again if she was too slow to greet him.

Sean nodded. "I had a meeting."

He took off his watch, placed it on the table, then walked to the kitchen without looking at Moana.

Moana followed from behind.

"I was alone all day, I felt so lonely," she said softly. "I had another nightmare. About... that baby."

Sean paused briefly, then continued opening the cabinet.

"You need to rest, Honey," he said flatly. "The doctor said not to get too emotional."

Moana swallowed hard. She stepped closer, hugging Sean from behind. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, as if afraid of losing the person she’d fought so hard to keep.

"Don’t leave me," she whispered. "I’ve already lost everything."

Sean froze.

"My family hates me for daring to get close to you. My dad is too busy with his new wife and never gives me any allowance. My siblings hate me and label me as a homewrecker. I have no one left but you." Moana continued to hold Sean tightly.

The embrace no longer felt like love. It felt like a noose.

"Don’t get ahead of yourself. Don’t think about things that aren’t true. You need to think about your health." Sean slowly released Moana’s hands, turning away with a thin, too-perfect smile.

"I’m not going anywhere," he said. "I just... need some space."

Space.

That word hit Moana harder than a scream.

"But I feel like you’re drifting away," she said quickly. "Ever since that incident, you’ve changed. You rarely touch me, Sean. You rarely speak."

Sean sighed, as if he were tired of dealing with a child.

"I’ve got a lot on my plate," he replied. "You’re not the only one suffering."

Moana fell silent. Her eyes widened.

"Why are you being so harsh?"

Sean stared at his girlfriend for a long moment. For a split second, a shadow crossed his eyes—not love, not regret—but exasperation and disgust.

"Don’t be so sensitive, Moana."

"Sean, you still plan to marry me, right?"

"We’ll see," Sean finally said.

Moana fell silent.

That night, Sean slept with his back to Moana.

And for the first time, Moana cried without her boyfriend’s embrace.

---

Meanwhile, in another house, the atmosphere felt different.

Clara sat in the living room of her mother’s house, a cup of chamomile tea in her hand. The house was quiet. There were no sounds of Sean’s footsteps, no judgmental stares, no imposing walls that felt cold.

Only her mother.

Mrs. Diana sat across from her, observing her daughter with tired yet sharp eyes.

"Are you ready?" she asked softly.

Clara nodded. "I’m ready, Mom."

There was a moment of silence.

"You’re going to face difficulties in the trial," Mrs. Diana said honestly. "Their family won’t stay quiet."

Clara lifted her face. Her eyes still held pain, but there was something new there—resolve.

"I’m going to ask my friend for help."

After that, Clara called someone.

"Lucie?" she said when the call was answered. "I need your help."

On the other end, a woman’s voice sounded alert. "I’ve been waiting for this call for a long time."

"I want a divorce."

"Are you sure?" Lucie asked without surprise.

"Yes."

A brief silence.

"Okay," Lucie replied calmly. "We’ll start tomorrow. I’ll take care of everything."

Clara closed her eyes. For the first time in a long while, her chest felt a little lighter.

Ever since returning from the hospital, Clara had already told Sean and his family that she would be moving back to Mrs. Diana’s house. Sean had initially objected and pleaded with his wife to return to their home. But Clara firmly refused her husband’s request.

And from that day on, Clara changed her phone number so she wouldn’t receive repeated calls or messages from Sean. She wanted a break from all the interference from her husband and mother-in-law.

---

The next day, Sean received the document in his office. He read it once. Then twice. His face immediately hardened.

"What is this?" his voice rose.

Horison stood in front of the desk. "This is an official notice, sir. A petition for divorce filed by Mrs. Clara."

Sean gave a short laugh. "She must be joking."

"It doesn’t look like it, sir," Horison replied. "Her lawyer’s signature is right here."

"Damn it...!" Sean slammed the folder down on the desk.

"She can’t do this," he said coldly. "She’s my wife. She still loves me! She must!"

Horison fell silent.

Sean stood up and began pacing back and forth.

"Who’s her lawyer?"

"Lucie Cordova."

Sean stopped.

The name sounded familiar.

"That woman," he muttered. "She’s known for being tough."

"And she’s known as an honest lawyer," Horison added cautiously.

Sean clenched his fists.

"Clara has nothing without me," he said. "She wouldn’t dare go this far."

"Sir, but the evidence... Mrs. Clara has already gone this far. She must have gotten help from someone else. Maybe Mrs. Clara doesn’t love you anymore."

BUGH.

Sean immediately punched his secretary in the face with all his might. He accepted what Harrison had said.

"Shut your mouth! Don’t make me even angrier!"

**********

It’s been a week.

Seven days without a word. Seven nights without a visit. Seven mornings Moana woke up with the same hope—and was always let down.

"Sean, when are you coming over to my apartment?" She texted Sean.

But Sean never replied.

At first, Moana tried to be patient. She convinced herself that Sean was just busy. That he was dealing with a major problem. That she had to understand.

But that patience cracked little by little.

On the fourth day, Moana started calling more frequently.

But the phone still wasn’t picked up.

On the fifth day, she sent a long message about loneliness, about pain, about a loss that hadn’t healed.

"Sean, I love you with all my heart. You can’t treat me like this. I once carried your child, and I’m the woman who understands you best. Sean, don’t do this. I’m so sad, and my heart aches. I’m lonely. Don’t ignore me. Please come over tonight. I miss the feel of your lips."

But, as always, the message was never replied to. This time, it was only read.

On the sixth day, Moana cried while sitting on the floor of her apartment, her phone in her hand feeling useless, its screen always blank with no reply.

And on the seventh day—

Her anger began to boil over. Her emotions took over.

---

That day, Moana stood in front of Sean’s house, her hair tied up haphazardly, her face pale but her eyes burning. She was furious.

The gate opened slowly as the security guard approached.

"I want to see Sean," she said firmly.

"Mr. Sean isn’t home, ma’am," the guard replied cautiously.

"You’ve said that three times this week," Moana snapped. "Call him. Now."

The guard hesitated. "I’m sorry, Miss—"

"If he doesn’t come out, I’ll scream right here," she threatened, her voice trembling between anger and desperation. "And I’m sure... the media will love to hear it."

Sean’s name was too valuable for a minor scandal at the front gate.

A few minutes later, a staff member came out.

"Mr. Sean is at the office," he said briefly.

Moana laughed bitterly.

"Okay, I’ll go see him!"

She turned and walked quickly toward her car.

This time, she wouldn’t go home. Moana was going to Sean’s office to demand answers.

"Sean! This is all so frustrating!"

*******

Sean’s office was on the top floor of the glass building. Moana barged in, ignoring the stares of the secretary and other employees.

"I’m his girlfriend," she said coldly. "Or do you want me to spell it out louder?"

Horison stood up from his chair. "Miss Moana, Mr. Sean is in an important meeting."

"I’m important enough to have waited a week for him. I’m more important than that meeting," Moana retorted. "Move aside."

She opened the door to Sean’s office without knocking.

Sean was standing near the window. He turned his head quickly.

"Moana?" His eyebrows furrowed. "What are you doing here?"

"I should be the one asking that," Moana replied with a sharp glare.

"Moana, what do you want?"

"Sean, why did you disappear?"

"This isn’t the right place to discuss that," Sean said softly, holding back his emotions.

"Is there no place left for me?" Moana stepped closer. "I lost our child, Sean. And you disappeared like a coward."

Several staff members turned their heads from behind the glass partition.

Sean slammed the door to his office shut.

"Your arrival will only cause a commotion, Moana!" he hissed.

"Oh, so my arrival makes you feel uncomfortable?" Moana laughed bitterly. "Good. Because I’ve been feeling uncomfortable for a week now."

Sean rubbed his face. "I’m facing a divorce suit."

"Great! I hope you and Clara get divorced soon!"

"Moana! Keep your distance!" Sean shouted.

"I know now," Moana replied quickly. "It seems like you’re starting to love Clara."

"Moana! It’s not that simple."

"For me, it’s this simple," Moana said, her voice breaking. "I was there when you needed me. And now you have to let go of Clara, then marry me!"

Sean didn’t answer. His silence was his answer. The answer that he couldn’t make Moana a replacement for Clara.

Moana stared at her boyfriend for a long time, then nodded slightly.

"Okay, I understand now," she said softly. "In that case... I’ll talk to your parents."

Sean looked up sharply. "Don’t."

"Marry me, or I’ll make a scene in the media!" Moana threatened.