Goodbye, my darling. Mommy loves you.
When Julian Donovan returned home, he glanced up toward the second floor out of habit. He was surprised to find her bedroom light already out. That lamp, the one she always kept on until he was home, was off early for the very first time. A strange pang of unease struck him.
He loosened his tie and strode to his son's room. Though he disliked her for being a bit clumsy and naive, he couldn't help but be grateful. He was grateful she had given him a smart, lovable, and brilliant son, Dylan Donovan.
He gently opened his son's door to find his three-year-old son sitting quietly on the bed, wrapped in his comforter. When the boy saw him come in, he said calmly,
"Mom's gone. She doesn't want me, and she doesn't want you either."
His son's words pierced his heart. He froze mid-stride, staring at the boy's calm expression in stunned disbelief, until tears finally welled up in those large eyes so much like her own.
He spun around and bolted from the room, taking the stairs two at a time and bursting into her bedroom. It was empty.
He still refused to believe someone so fragile would choose to leave. Suppressing a strange sense of panic, he rushed to the closet and threw the doors open. In reality, he had no idea what clothes she even owned. Only when he noticed her pink suitcase was missing did he finally accept that she was truly gone.
A closer look revealed she had only taken a few items of clothing, leaving everything else behind. He leaned dejectedly against her vanity. When he turned, he saw his son standing in the doorway in his pajamas, teary-eyed and watching him. A sudden wave of guilt washed over Julian.
He had only agreed to a divorce; he never meant to drive her away—especially since she had been the one to suggest it. He'd never imagined that beneath her fragile exterior lay such a resolute will. He thought of her delicate nature and couldn't help but worry. She was a woman who'd never done a day of hard labor, someone with no experience surviving in the real world. 'How is she going to make a living after leaving here?'
He walked over and picked up his son.
"Dylan, don't cry. Daddy will send someone to find Mommy and bring her back!"
"If you bring her back, does that mean you won't get divorced?"
The three-year-old asked, his voice thick and nasal. After a long hesitation, Julian finally nodded.
"Mmm..."
In truth, ever since his son was born, he had never considered divorcing her. Even though he didn't love her, he thought it was important to give his son a complete home. The divorce had been her idea.
Carrying his son, he went downstairs and ordered one of his men,
"Go find Tyson and bring him to me!"
Tyson had been her personal bodyguard since she was a child. He was the only person here capable of helping her get away.
The Tyson his man brought back was already dead drunk. Seeing Julian's anxious expression, Tyson couldn't help but let out a cold laugh.
"Julian Donovan, isn't this exactly what you wanted? You forced her to leave on her own terms, so you don't have to take any of the blame. You get your freedom without lifting a finger, on top of your booming career!"
"Talk! Where did you take her?"
Julian roared, grabbing him by the collar in a fit of rage. Tyson merely laughed in derision.
"Why bother? Why put on this show for me? Isn't her leaving exactly what you wanted? I know better than anyone how you treated her. This whole phony act of yours is disgusting!"