Three years ago, divorce would have been devastating.
But now, Sophia Sullivan could barely remember Liam Winston's face.
It wasn’t true that she felt nothing.
She had played the obedient wife for three years, clinging to the foolish hope of their youth.
She had believed he would eventually remember.
But what did it matter now?
Liam already had his first love—Chloe Evans.
He was no longer the boy from her memories.
Now, divorce felt as mundane as buying breakfast.
No heart-wrenching pain.
Just relief, as if a weight had been lifted.
Perhaps three years of disappointment had numbed her.
Now, all she felt was exhaustion.
How had she never noticed how repulsive he was?
A bitter smile tugged at her lips.
This was her rebirth.
That night, she slept deeply.
The next morning, the Winston Estate nestled halfway up the hillside.
Sophia intended to see Mr. Winston Sr. directly.
But the moment she stepped into the parlor, Mrs. Winston appeared.
“Sophia, you’re here.” Mrs. Winston sipped her coffee leisurely.
At fifty, she was still elegant.
Her emerald-green cheongsam and pearl earrings gave her the air of a refined socialite.
But when she looked up at Sophia, surprise flickered in her eyes.
Today, Sophia wasn’t wearing her usual drab clothes.
A pale green dress accentuated her porcelain skin.
Her hair was loosely tied, a few strands curling against her neck.
Like a willow in early spring—soft yet resilient.
“Mrs. Winston.” Sophia nodded politely.
No matter how ugly things had gotten with Liam, she wouldn’t abandon courtesy.
It was ingrained in her.
“Why so formal?” Mrs. Winston took her hand warmly. “Sit.”
The moment their fingers touched, Mrs. Winston stiffened slightly.
Sophia’s face was still gentle.
But the timid submissiveness was gone.
Replaced by cool detachment.
“Calling you ‘Mother’ after the divorce wouldn’t be appropriate.” Sophia sat gracefully. “Just a title—no offense meant.”
Her words were flawless.
Mrs. Winston’s brow twitched imperceptibly.
Then she smiled again, maternal and kind.
“I’ve already scolded Liam for his foolishness.” She sighed. “If not for Mr. Winston’s illness, he’d face the family’s discipline.”
She was startled.
She had never realized how sharp this girl was.
One sentence, and she had drawn a clear line.
Yet no one could fault her for it.
Mrs. Winston dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief.
“You poor child, orphaned and now divorced…” Her voice trembled. “How will you manage alone?”
She slid off a gilded enamel bracelet.
“I can’t control that wretched son of mine, but I’ve always seen you as my own.” She pressed the bracelet into Sophia’s hand. “If you’ll have me, be my goddaughter. Let’s preserve our bond.”
“Sophia, I truly care for you. We’re still family.”
Sophia stared at the gaudy bracelet.
It was almost laughable.
Such tender words.
Yet every syllable was a warning.
Mr. Winston is ill. You have no one.
Making a scene won’t help you.
Take this offer. Stay under the Winston name.
Beneath the warmth was pure calculation.
More sophisticated than Chloe’s blatant malice.
“Thank you for your kindness.” Sophia gently pushed the bracelet away. “I prefer my independence now.”
Mrs. Winston’s smile faded.
Her gaze turned cold.
“Don’t worry about Liam’s objections.” Her voice softened. “My decision isn’t his to challenge.”