Moana backed away, her heart pounding wildly. Her head was spinning, and she was breathing in short, shallow gasps. She was walking too fast, too frantically—and ...

CRASH!

The metal trash can next to Mrs. Diana’s house tipped over, making a loud noise that shattered the silence.

Moana staggered; she almost fell.

"Who’s there—?"

The voice made Moana’s blood run cold.

Clara appeared to have just gotten out of her car. Her bag was still slung over her shoulder when her eyes caught sight of Moana in the corner of the yard. Moana’s face looked pale, stiff, and clearly—eavesdropping.

Clara tensed.

"Moana?" she called out loudly. "What are you doing here?"

There was no way out.

Moana froze in place. Her mind raced, searching for an excuse, but it all felt too late. She was like a thief who’d just been caught.

Clara’s expression had changed—not angry, but wary. Her face looked sharp. Like someone who’d just realized they were being watched.

The front door swung open. It was followed by the shouts of her two middle-aged women inside.

"What’s going on?!"

"Who’s that?!"

Mrs. Diana came out first; her face hardened the moment she saw Moana standing in the yard. Right behind her, Mrs. Weasley followed. And the moment their eyes met, her expression crumbled instantly.

"You...?" Mrs. Weasley’s voice caught in her throat. "How long have you been there?"

Moana swallowed hard. Her throat was dry.

"I..." her voice barely came out. "I just... wanted to see Clara."

Clara gave a short, humorless laugh. "You wanted to see me? And we were sneaking around the side door of my mother’s house?"

Those words pierced Moana’s heart.

Mrs. Diana stepped forward. Her gaze was cold, calculating. "How long have you been standing there, Moana?"

Silence fell like a hammer.

Moana gripped her bag’s strap tightly. Her eyes widened, not out of fear, but out of shame and anxiety at having been caught eavesdropping on a conversation.

"It wasn’t long," Moana stammered.

"What on earth were you listening to by the side of my house?! How dare you eavesdrop on grown adults? Is this how you live your life?!" Mrs. Weasley raged.

"You’re truly a rude and uneducated woman. I deeply regret allowing Sean to marry a woman like this!" she shouted.

The air seemed to stand still.

Moana’s face went pale instantly. She took a half-step back, as if those words had struck her harder than any accusation.

"I only heard it faintly. I don’t understand where your conversation is going. I don’t know what you’re talking about." Moana spoke softly,

Moana turned sharply toward Mrs. Weasley. "Mom, don’t be so harsh on me. I’m your daughter-in-law, and I’m Sean’s wife too."

"Don’t call me Mom! It’s so disgusting to hear those words come out of your mouth!" Mrs. Weasley grew even more emotional.

Mrs. Diana raised her hand. "Enough. Don’t make a scene in my house!"

"Please leave my house along with your new daughter-in-law!" She glared at Mrs. Weasley with pure frustration.

"Diana, please don’t get so angry. I came to your house to mend our relationship. I want to sincerely apologize to you. Ignore Moana, who suddenly showed up and made the atmosphere tense." Mrs. Weasley looked pleading.

"Enough! Get out of my sight right now. I’m sick of seeing your faces." Mrs. Diana glared at Moana and Mrs. Weasley in turn.

"You brainless woman! You must have followed me all the way from home to this place! How dare you stalk your own mother-in-law? I’m going to report you to Sean!" Mrs. Weasley pointed at Moana’s face in a rage.

*

That evening, Sean had just arrived home.

His suit was still on, his tie still fastened. He tossed the court documents onto the table without caring if the contents spilled out. His face was hard, his jaw tense—the aftermath of a defeat he couldn’t process quickly.

The divorce was final. Sean and Clara were now strangers. No room for compromise. No delay. No chance to turn things around.

Clara was truly gone from Sean’s life.

And that left Sean without the one thing he hated losing most: control.

His phone vibrated.

"Mama" appeared on the screen.

Sean answered without hesitation. "What’s up?"

Mrs. Weasley’s voice came through immediately, sharp and full of emotion. "Sean, I’ve just been humiliated."

Sean closed his eyes for a moment. "I don’t have the energy to listen to this drama right now."

"This isn’t a drama," his mother interrupted. "Your wife—Moana—is stalking me."

Sean opened his eyes. "What do you mean, Mom?"

"She’s following me," Mrs. Weasley continued quickly. "From the house. All the way to Mrs. Diana’s house. She was eavesdropping on my conversation. She was caught standing by the side door like a thief."

Sean didn’t answer right away. His grip tightened on the phone.

"She caused a scene," his mother continued. "Embarrassed me in front of Diana and Clara. She really has no shame."

There was silence for a few seconds.

Then Sean gave a short laugh. Not a chuckle—but a cold laugh that signaled one thing: anger that had found its target.

"I’ll handle it," he said briefly.

The call ended.

Sean stood still for a few seconds. His breathing was heavy. His chest rose and fell slowly.

Then he turned and strode quickly toward the stairs.

★★★

Moana was sitting on the edge of the bed when the bedroom door burst open.

BANG!

She jumped.

Sean stood in the doorway. His face was dark. Those eyes—the eyes that once made Moana feel chosen—were now empty and sharp.

"Did you follow my mom to Mama Diana’s house?" Sean asked flatly.

"Mama Diana? Do you still call that woman Mama Diana? Aren’t you her son-in-law anymore?!" Moana laughed.

"Shut up!" Sean snapped. "Answer me: did you follow my mom to Clara’s house?!"

Moana stood up hurriedly. "I was just—"

"Answer YES or NO," Sean cut in.

Moana swallowed hard. "Yes."

Sean stepped forward. One step. Two steps. The pressure made Moana step back unconsciously.

"Do you think what you’re doing is funny?" Sean’s voice rose. "Stalking my parents? Eavesdropping on their conversations?"

"I was just suspicious," Moana tried to defend herself. "You’re hiding something from me."

Sean laughed sarcastically.

"You’re in no position to be suspicious," he said coldly. "You’re in my life because I allowed it. Don’t forget that."

Those words hit Moana harder than a slap.

"I’m your wife," Moana whispered, but her voice trembled.

Sean stopped right in front of her.

"You’re my wife because I needed to shut people up out there," he said softly but cruelly. "And now you’re just becoming a problem."

Moana’s face went pale. "So... all this time you’ve just been—"

"Shut up," Sean cut her off sharply. "I’ve lost enough patience today."

He looked Moana up and down, appraising her.

"You humiliated my mother. You dragged my name into a conflict that’s none of your business. And you’re starting to act as if you have a right."

Sean leaned in slightly. His voice was low.

"Don’t do it again," he threatened. "Or I’ll make sure you regret ever getting involved."

Moana trembled. Her eyes widened.

Sean turned and walked toward the door.

"Oh, and one more thing," he said without looking back. "Don’t leave the house tomorrow. I don’t want to hear your name mentioned anywhere."

The door closed.

The lock clicked.

Moana stood alone in the vast room. Silent. Cold. Unnervingly quiet for a space so vast.

For the first time since her wedding, she truly understood one thing: She hadn’t married a man. She had married a prison cloaked in luxury.

********

The next day.

That day, Sean went to Mrs. Diana’s house. He didn’t arrive in a fit of rage. He arrived with something far more dangerous: obsession.

His car pulled up in front of Mrs. Diana’s house in the late afternoon. The house looked the same. The atmosphere was still calm and orderly, and the door was tightly shut. Sean sat behind the wheel for quite a while, staring at the door that had once always stood wide open for him.

He rang the doorbell.

There was no answer.

He rang it again, this time holding it down longer.

Still silence.

"Clara," he murmured, almost like a failed prayer.

Mrs. Diana finally appeared, her face cold the moment she saw who was standing on the porch. No smile. No small talk.

"Clara isn’t here," she said curtly.

Sean tensed. "I know she’s been living here again since she came back from—"

"No," Mrs. Diana cut him off. "Clara has moved. She lives out of town."

Sean chuckled, not believing it. "She wouldn’t go far from me. She still loves me, ma’am."

"Don’t delude yourself! Clara left because she wanted a peaceful life," Mrs. Diana retorted sharply. "And that peace doesn’t include you."

Sean fell silent.

"You have no right to look for her again," Mrs. Diana continued. "Clara is busy working now. She has a decent job. She’s safe. And she doesn’t want to see you."

"Did Leo give her the job?" Sean snorted.

"No." Mrs. Diana replied curtly.

"Mom, please don’t lie to me."

"Sean! Why are you pushing it? What answer do you want to hear from me? Aren’t you happy that Leo can make Clara happy?" Mrs. Diana snorted.

"One thing’s for sure, Clara is safer living near Leo. Leo is better than you in every way!" the woman asserted.

Sean glared.

That name—Leo—hit his ears like a slap.

"Safer?" Sean took a half-step forward. "Safer from whom? Safer from what?"

"From you." Mrs. Diana smirked. "Get out of my sight now!"

The door slammed shut, leaving no room for argument.

Sean stood there for a few seconds. His chest rose and fell. His hands clenched into fists.

Not because of loss, but because he felt separated from something he considered his own.