Chapter 317
The cemetery lay shrouded in quiet darkness, moonlight casting long shadows across rows of headstones.
Each granite marker carried a story, each engraved name representing a life once vibrant. In the stillness of night, time seemed to slow, becoming heavy and deliberate.
Henry found himself delayed at the entrance, the night watchman suspicious of visitors at such a late hour.
By the time he convinced the man of his innocent intentions and made his way into the shadowy grounds, Sophia had disappeared from view.
The cemetery sprawled in all directions, like an endless sea of stone.
Henry paused, scanning the horizon.
Finally, in the furthest row, he spotted a small figure huddled against a headstone. He moved cautiously toward her, taking care to remain unseen.
Before he could get close, Sophia’s soft sobs reached him, carried on the night breeze. Her grief was raw, unfiltered–the kind of pain people only express when completely alone.
“Sam, I miss you so much,” she whispered, arms wrapped tightly around the cold stone as if embracing a lover. “If you were still here, you’d protect me, wouldn’t you?”
Each word cut through Henry like a blade, every syllable driving deeper into his chest, confirming his worst fears.
“They say souls linger after death,” she continued, her voice breaking. “If your soul can see me now, please, hold me, just
once.”
Henry stood frozen, unable to approach yet unable to leave. Witnessing her vulnerability was heartbreaking. The thin hospital gown provided almost no protection against the biting wind, her shoulders trembling with each sob.
Since the incident at the police station, doctors had suspected depression and started her on antidepressants, but clearly, her emotional state remained fragile.
“Sam, I need you,” Sophia pleaded, her fingers tracing the engraved letters of his name. “Please appear to me, even for just a few seconds. Please?”
With each desperate plea, Henry’s expression darkened further.
He stood in the cold night air, hands slowly curling into fists at his sides, watching the woman he’d married, the woman he’d begun to truly love, pouring her heart out at another man’s grave.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to step forward.
The truth crystallized before his eyes to Sophia, he was merely an unimportant replacement for Sam, a poor substitute.
Throughout their six–year marriage, after every New Year, Sophia would request a day off, saying she needed to visit a friend. He had never questioned it, never suspected.
But now he understood–she had been coming here, to Sam’s grave, maintaining her connection with her former love while
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pretending to build a new life with Henry.
“Why pretend to love me at all?” Henry thought bitterly.
Henry would have preferred that Sophia deceive him forever, yet after only six years, he had discovered this cruel truth.
He couldn’t bear to watch any longer. With a heavy heart and heavier steps, he turned away, leaving the cemetery without confrontation.
That night, Henry dismissed his driver and walked alone through New York’s streets until dawn, letting the cold air numb his pain.
His father’s words echoed in his mind: “Things that don’t belong to you will eventually leave. Things that are truly yours, even if separated, will find their way back to you after wandering.”
If he couldn’t keep her heart, perhaps it was better to set her free.
I had no idea Henry had been at the cemetery. After releasing my emotions at Sam’s grave, I returned to my hospital room, physically exhausted but mentally relieved.
Today was important–the DNA test results would finally be available.
Betty noticed my improved mood and couldn’t resist teasing me.
“What if the results aren’t what you expected?” she asked, trying to adjust my pillows to a comfortable position.
Ishrugged, feeling calm after my emotional release at the cemetery.
“Then they aren’t. If Henry isn’t Billy’s biological father, I’ll accept it and move on. I’ll find someone else eventually.”
Perhaps my unusually detached attitude made Betty more concerned.
“Sophia, if Billy truly is Henry’s son, will you still go through with the divorce?”
Betty had witnessed Henry’s transformation firsthand over recent weeks. The cold, distant man had changed, showing
genuine concern and affection toward me.
Betty clearly didn’t want to see Henry and me separate, especially if reconciliation was possible.
“It doesn’t change anything,” I firmly replied, handing Betty a slip of paper. “Here’s the authorization form. Could you get the DNA test results for me? I don’t want to face the entertainment reporters who might be waiting outside.”
Betty reluctantly took the form, her expression troubled. Just as she prepared to leave, a familiar figure appeared in the doorway–James, Henry’s personal assistant.
I straightened in surprise. “Jamés? What are you doing here so early? Isn’t the company keeping you busy?”
Henry was known as a workaholic who rarely took time off, which meant James also seldom had free time.
James’s sudden appearance made me suspicious. I felt my heart flutter with an ominous premonition–something wasn’t right.
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James was here on Henry’s orders to deliver something to me. He approached with a smile, handing me a manila envelope. “Mrs. Harding, I’m here to deliver something from Mr. Harding. He insisted I give this to you personally.”
The title “Mrs. Harding” sounded so jarring to my ears. I frowned at James and said, “Don’t call me Mrs. Harding anymore. I soon won’t be. Just call me Sophia.”
I’m returning the title of Mrs. Harding to Henry!
Seeing my anger, James pretended to be frightened: “Okay, Mrs. Harding, but you should first see what’s inside!”
As soon as I opened the envelope, I saw something I had been desperately waiting for!
A divorce agreement signed by Henry Harding!
The divorce I had been craving for half a year finally materialized–I had obtained what I had longed for.
Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to smile.
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