After the call connected, Vivian spoke first.
"Baby, why are you calling so late? Did something happen?"
The other side was silent for two seconds.
"Vivian," Celeste said, her voice as cool as always, though there was a faint tiredness hidden beneath it. "I'm divorced."
"What?"
Vivian froze.
For a moment, she thought she had heard wrong.
"Seriously? You divorced him? The contract husband?"
"Yes."
Vivian opened her mouth and found she did not know what to say.
Business, she understood.
Comforting a newly divorced friend?
No one had trained her for that.
"Vivian?"
Celeste's voice brought her back.
"Are you home?" Vivian asked.
"Yes."
"Wait for me. I'll come over now. We'll talk in person."
"Okay."
Vivian ended the call and started the car again, heading for Celeste's villa.
She did not need navigation.
How could she not know where her best friend lived?
...
Ten minutes later, Vivian's sports car stopped outside a detached villa.
She took a bouquet from the trunk, held it in both arms, walked through the yard, and rang the bell.
The door opened quickly.
Celeste stood there in simple loungewear, her hair loose around her shoulders. Without makeup, she looked less sharp than usual, softer and a little more tired.
"Celeste," Vivian said, holding out the flowers with both hands. "Congratulations on being single again."
She added, "Happy freedom."
She had found the line online.
She was not entirely sure it was appropriate.
Celeste paused.
Then she took the bouquet, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.
"Thank you."
She stepped aside.
"Come in."
"Good."
Seeing Celeste smile, Vivian finally relaxed and followed her inside.
But as they walked, Vivian noticed something was wrong.
Celeste looked normal.
She smiled like usual.
Her posture was neat.
Her voice was steady.
But her eyes held too much silence.
Loneliness, maybe.
Vivian suddenly had a bold thought.
Had Celeste accidentally fallen for him?
She did not ask immediately.
She took off her shoes and followed Celeste to the living room.
Celeste placed the flowers on the coffee table and sat down.
Vivian sat beside her quietly.
Under the warm light, Celeste's perfect profile carried a faint, hard-to-name weariness.
"Celeste," Vivian said at last.
"Mm?"
Celeste blinked as if waking from a thought.
Vivian pretended not to notice.
"Weren't things fine before? Why divorce him so suddenly?"
"Our agreement was three years. Yesterday was the last day."
Only then did Vivian remember.
There had been a three-year arrangement.
So much time had passed that she had almost forgotten.
"Right," Vivian said. "That."
She hesitated for a few seconds, then asked, "Celeste, you didn't... fall for him, did you?"
"Fall for him?" Celeste denied it immediately. Her tone was cold and flat. "Impossible."
"Then why do you look so miserable?"
Celeste fell silent.
She stared at the bouquet on the coffee table, her expression drifting.
After a long while, she said, "No matter what, we lived under the same roof for three years. Suddenly returning to life alone feels unfamiliar. That's normal."
Vivian thought about it and found the logic reasonable.
Keep a dog for three years and one would feel something.
Let alone a living person.
She shifted closer and wrapped one arm around Celeste's shoulders.
"If you feel lonely, I can move in with you for a while."
Celeste shook her head.
"Not for now."
Her eyes moved toward a corner of the living room and emptied again.
"I'm thinking of selling this house soon. I'll move somewhere else."
Vivian nodded.
"That's good. A fresh start. New place, new mood."
She stretched lazily.
"Besides, this house is full of traces of him. Living here probably doesn't feel great."
Celeste did not answer.
She looked back at Vivian.
"Enough about me."
Her mouth curved slightly as she changed the subject.
"What about you? My mother asked about you today. She told me to persuade you to find a boyfriend soon. Preferably marry next year."
Vivian froze.
She had not expected the topic to turn on her.
"Me?"
Her eyes flickered.
Even her words became less steady.
Celeste narrowed her eyes.
Normally, when this subject came up, Vivian rejected it cleanly and used work as a shield.
Today was different.
"Vivian," Celeste said, suspicion rising. "You're acting strange. Are you hiding something from me?"
"No. Absolutely not. What could I hide from you?"
Vivian denied it quickly, but her voice grew smaller.
Celeste said nothing.
She simply looked at her.
Vivian lasted less than half a minute.
"Fine. Fine. I'll tell you."
She sighed and recounted everything that had happened that day.
Derek's public harassment.
The handsome stranger she pulled in as a shield.
How he solved Derek.
How he casually wrote a hundred-billion-dollar beauty formula.
How he used that formula to make her agree to be his girlfriend.
Graham Lowe kneeling.
Charles Lang being fired with a phone call.
Of course, she selectively omitted the parts where Ethan had tricked her into losing several small territories of innocence.
Celeste listened in disbelief.
"You're saying you randomly grabbed a man from the crowd, and he might be a super heir with hundreds of billions or even trillions in assets?"
Vivian nodded.
"And in one day, he solved both the Lowe family and Linford for you?"
Vivian nodded again.
"Most importantly, he owns one hundred and fifty villas at Summit Ridge?"
Vivian continued nodding.
Celeste's mouth twitched.
Then she laughed.
"He owns two massive companies, has more than twenty billion in Summit Ridge property, and when you're in trouble, he protects you without hesitation."
Celeste took Vivian's hand and said sincerely, "Vivian, you won big. Congratulations on finding such a good match."
Vivian became embarrassed.
"Won what..."
She muttered, "That man is shameless, despicable, and impossible."
That was what she said.
But the happy curve at the corner of her mouth could not be hidden at all.
Celeste saw it and smiled without speaking.
...
They talked a while longer.
When it grew late, Vivian said goodbye.
Celeste saw her to the door and watched the car lights disappear before turning back into the entryway.
The strange feeling returned as soon as she stepped inside.
In the past, whenever she came home, Ethan would be waiting in an apron.
He would have slippers ready.
The house would never be this quiet.
Not quiet enough to make a person's chest feel hollow.
Celeste shook her head, clearing the thought, and returned to the living room.
She sat on the sofa for a while.
Then she got up and walked into the kitchen.
After searching through the cabinets, she found a cup of instant noodles.
She tore it open, poured in hot water, closed the lid, and carried it back to the living room.
After waiting, she stirred it with chopsticks and took a bite.
The taste was ordinary.
Almost flavorless.
She was clearly hungry, yet eating felt pointless.
Without meaning to, she looked toward the kitchen.
It was dark.
Empty.
Images rose in her mind.
No matter how late she returned before, if she sat here, the kitchen light would always be on.
That man would be at the stove in an apron, smiling foolishly as he busied himself.
The house would smell of warm food.
He would say, "Honey, you're hungry, right? Wait a minute. It'll be ready soon."
Celeste lowered her eyes to the noodles.
Suddenly, she lost her appetite.
She placed the cup back on the coffee table.
After another half minute of silence, she picked up her phone.
She unlocked it, opened her contacts, and scrolled down.
Ethan Cole.
The name had been saved three years ago.
She had never changed it.
Celeste stared at it for a long time.
Her finger hovered above the screen.
At last, she pressed call.
Author's Note:
This story will continue updating here.
If you want to read the full story without waiting or more books, you can unlock it here:
/c/TYMercer
Thank you for reading.