Three years of marriage, and Isabelle Claremont still wasn’t pregnant.

Late at night, she sat on the couch, staring at the pregnancy test results. The heartbreak and helplessness didn’t let her sleep even for a moment.

Just then, her husband, Arthur Raymond, sent her a text.

[ I’m not coming home tonight. ]

Isabelle couldn’t even count how many times this had happened.

The last time they had slept together was months ago, back when Arthur was drunk. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have touched her at all.

A crushing wave of sadness washed over her. The feeling was so overwhelming that her ears started ringing; her ear condition was acting up again.

With trembling hands, she texted back a simple [ Okay ].

She had loved Arthur for twelve years. In fact, she had nearly died saving him once.

But Arthur hated her. Their marriage had been a business arrangement, but on the day of the wedding, the Claremont family had secretly moved all their assets elsewhere.

Isabelle didn’t know anything about it, but Arthur still took his anger out on her.

The room was painfully silent. As always, Isabelle turned on the TV, hoping the noise would drive away the loneliness.

On the screen, an exclusive interview was airing—Camille Viona, the internationally renowned pop diva, had returned to the country.

Isabelle’s hand jerked, and the remote slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a soft thud.

‘Camille… Arthur’s first love.’

Even after all these years, Camille was still breathtakingly beautiful.

She faced the camera with effortless confidence, a far cry from the shy, insecure girl who once sought financial help from the Claremont family.

When the reporter asked why she had come back, Camille smiled knowingly.

"I came back to make up for something… to reclaim something I lost."

Isabelle’s heart sank. Her heart suddenly felt unbearably heavy, pressing down on her like a weight she couldn’t shake off.

‘Has Camille come back for… Arthur? Would she… take him away from me?’

Panic spread through her like wildfire, but she forced herself to turn off the TV and try to sleep.

She told herself it was impossible. Camille wouldn’t—couldn’t—affect her and Arthur’s relationship.

…Right?

Eventually, exhaustion won, and she drifted off into a restless sleep.

When she woke up, it was already 5 AM.

Dragging her tired body out of bed, she freshened up and started making breakfast.

Maybe—just maybe—a warm meal would fix something.

At exactly six o’clock, Arthur walked in.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, tall and lean, radiating a quiet elegance.

With his sharp, handsome features, he always stood out no matter where he went.

But he didn’t even spare Isabelle a glance. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and said coldly, “You don’t need to make me breakfast anymore.”

The bowl of eggs in Isabelle’s hand wobbled, spilling onto the stovetop with a quiet sizzle.

“I… Did I do something wrong?” she asked softly, not realizing how small and defeated her voice sounded.

Arthur lifted his gaze, his eyes devoid of warmth. “I need a wife, Isabelle. Not a housekeeper.”

A fresh wave of ringing filled her ears, her temples throbbing in pain.

Her chest felt like it was being torn apart. She wanted to say so much, but in the end, all that came out was "Okay."

Arthur’s brows furrowed in frustration. “Is that the only word you know?”

He suddenly stood up, shoving the chair back with an irritated sigh. “You’re just so… so—”

He held himself back, exhaling sharply before his voice softened just a little. “Forget it. I don’t want to argue with you. I have more important things to do than waste time here.”

And with that, he turned to leave.

“Arthur!” Isabelle’s voice trembled, her eyes shining with unshed tears.

She used to believe that if she loved him enough, he’d eventually accept her.

But now… she wasn’t sure anymore.

Images of Camille flashed through her mind—her confidence, her beauty, and that hauntingly cryptic sentence: "To reclaim something I lost."

Taking a shaky breath, Isabelle whispered, “I need to ask you something.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“If… If there’s someone else in your heart…” She swallowed hard before continuing, “Then let’s get a divorce.”

The moment the words left her lips, all the strength drained from her body.