When Flora Walker arrived at the airport in the Netherlands, it was already past nine in the evening.
Today was her birthday.
As she turned on her phone, a flood of birthday wishes poured in—all from colleagues and friends.
But from Wesley Monroe? Not a single message.
Her smile faded.
By the time she reached the villa, it was well past ten.
Mrs. Leah, the housekeeper, looked startled when she saw her. "Madam, you... you're here?"
"Where are Wesley and Nina?"
"Mr. Wesley hasn't returned yet, and the young miss is playing in her room."
Handing her luggage to Mrs. Leah, Flora headed upstairs and found her daughter in her little pajamas, completely absorbed in something at her tiny desk. She was so focused she didn’t even notice someone had entered.
"Nina?"
Nina turned at the sound of her voice, beaming. "Mommy!"
Then, just as quickly, she turned back to whatever she was working on.
Flora scooped her into her arms, planting a kiss on her cheek, only to be gently pushed away. "Mommy, I'm still busy!"
Flora hadn't seen her daughter in two months and missed her terribly. No amount of hugs and kisses could satisfy her longing, and she yearned to have a proper conversation with the little girl.
Seeing how engrossed her daughter was, she didn't want to ruin her mood. "Nina, are you making a seashell necklace?"
"Mhm!" Nina's face lit up at the mention. "Miss. Eva's birthday is in a week! This is the present Daddy and I are making for her. We carefully polished every single shell—aren't they pretty?"
Flora's throat tightened. Before she could respond, her daughter continued cheerfully, her back still turned, "Daddy even got Miss. Eva some other special gifts. Tomorrow—"
A sharp pang struck Flora's chest. She couldn't hold back any longer. "Nina... do you remember Mommy's birthday?"
"Huh? What?" Nina glanced up briefly before immediately lowering her eyes again to the beads in her hands, frowning. "Mommy, stop talking—you made me mess up the order!"
Flora loosened her embrace and fell silent.
She stood there for a long while, waiting, but her daughter never looked up. Pressing her lips together, Flora finally turned and left the room without another word.
Mrs. Leah spotted her in the hallway. "Madam, I just called Mr. Wesley. He said he has business tonight and asked you not to wait up."
"I see."
Flora nodded, but her daughter's words lingered in her mind. After a pause, she dialed Wesley's number.
The line rang for a long time before he answered, his voice distant. "I'm busy. We'll talk tomorrow—"
"Flora, why is it so late?"
Eva's voice, light and familiar, drifted through the receiver.
Flora's grip on the phone turned white-knuckled.
"Never mind."
Before Flora could say another word, Wesley had already hung up.
It had been two or three months since they’d last seen each other. She had finally made the trip to Netherlands, yet he couldn’t even be bothered to come home—not even for a phone call. He didn’t have the patience to let her finish speaking…
This was how he had always treated her throughout their marriage—cold, distant, impatient.
She was used to it by now.
In the past, she would have called him back, patiently asking where he was and whether he could come home. But today, exhaustion weighed her down, and she suddenly couldn’t muster the energy to try.
The next morning, after some hesitation, she dialed Wesley’s number again.
There was a seventeen- or eighteen-hour time difference between Netherlands and home.
Here, today was her birthday.
Aside from desperately wanting to see her daughter and Wesley, the whole reason she had come to Netherlands was so the three of them could sit down together for a meal on this special day.
That was her birthday wish this year.
Wesley didn’t answer.
A long while later, a single message finally came through.
"[What is it?]"
Flora: "[Are you free for lunch? Let’s take Nina and eat together—just the three of us.]"
"Got it. Let me know once you've set the location."
Flora: "Okay."
After that, Wesley fell completely silent.
He had forgotten that today was her birthday.
Though Flora had braced herself for it, a pang of disappointment still crept into her heart.
As she finished washing up and prepared to head downstairs, she overheard her daughter and Mrs. Leah talking below.
"Isn’t Madam coming? Doesn’t that make you happy, young miss?"
"Dad and I already promised Miss. Eva, we’d go to the beach with her tomorrow. If Mom suddenly shows up and tags along, it’ll be so awkward!"
"Besides, Mom’s so mean—she’s always picking on Miss. Eva—"
"Young miss, Madam is your mother. You mustn’t say things like that—it would break her heart, understand?"
"I know, but… Dad and I both like Miss. Eva more. Can’t she be my mom instead?"
"..."
Whatever Mrs. Leah said next, Flora could no longer make out.
She raised her daughter with her own hands, but over the past two years, the girl had grown closer to Wesley. Last year, when he left for Netherlands to expand business, their daughter had insisted on following him.
Flora couldn’t bear to part with her—of course she wanted her child to stay by her side.
But she couldn't bear to see her daughter heartbroken, so she reluctantly agreed.
Who would have thought...
Flora stood frozen in place, her face turning deathly pale. For a long moment, she didn’t move.
She had canceled work commitments and flown all the way to Netherlands, hoping to spend more time with her daughter.
Now, it seemed that wasn’t necessary at all.
Returning to her room, Flora packed the gifts she had brought from home back into her suitcase.
A short while later, Mrs. Leah called to say she had taken the child out to play and that Flora could reach her if needed.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Flora felt hollow, adrift in a fog of emptiness.
She had dropped everything to come here, only to realize no one truly needed her.
Her arrival had turned into nothing but a joke.
After what felt like an eternity, she stepped outside.
Aimlessly, she wandered through the streets of this country—both foreign and familiar.
It wasn’t until nearly noon that she remembered she had made lunch plans with Wesley.
Recalling the words she had overheard that morning, she hesitated over whether to go home and pick up her daughter. Just then, a message from Wesley flashed on her phone.
"Urgent matter came up. Lunch canceled."
Flora watched without a trace of surprise.
She was used to it by now.
In Wesley's mind, whether it was work commitments or casual gatherings with friends—anything and everything took priority over her, his wife. Plans made with her were canceled on his whims without a second thought. He never once considered how she might feel.
Did it hurt?
Maybe once, long ago.
But now she was numb, too hollow to feel anything at all.
A deeper confusion settled over Flora.
She had come here with such eagerness, only to be met with cold indifference—first from her husband, then from her own daughter.
Lost in thought, she found herself driving to the restaurant she and Wesley had frequented many times before.
Just as she stepped inside, she spotted them—Wesley, Eva, and Nina, all seated together.
Eva sat cozily beside her daughter on one side of the table, chatting animatedly with Wesley while playfully teasing the little girl.
Her daughter giggled, kicking her legs excitedly as she leaned in to take a bite of the pastry Eva had just nibbled on.
Wesley smiled as he served dishes to both women, yet his gaze remained fixed on Eva across the table, as if she were the only one who existed in his world.
So this was the "important matter" Wesley had mentioned.
And this was the daughter she had carried for ten months, nearly losing her life to bring into the world.
Flora let out a quiet laugh.
She stood there, watching.
After a long moment, she finally tore her eyes away and turned to leave.
Back at the villa, Flora prepared divorce papers.
He had been the dream of her youth, yet he had never truly seen her.
If not for that one reckless night and the pressure from the family patriarch, he would never have married her.
She had once naively believed that if she tried hard enough, one day he would finally notice her.
But reality had slapped her hard across the face.
Nearly seven years had passed.
It was time to wake up.
Placing the divorce papers into an envelope, she instructed Mrs. Leah to deliver them to Wesley. Then, suitcase in hand, she stepped into the car and told the driver, "To the airport."
