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On the wedding anniversary, Elaria Grace watched her husband kiss a stranger against the wall and take her like a man in love.

The way he kissed her-tender, devoted.

The way he touched her-hungry, unrestrained.

It was a side of him she had never seen in three years of marriage.

And in that moment, the truth hit harder than the betrayal:

He wasn't incapable of love.

He was just incapable of loving her.

*****

As dusk fell, Elaria sat silently in the backseat of a black Rolls-Royce Phantom, fingers lightly tracing the sapphire ring she wore.

She had just bought it that afternoon at an auction.

All because Sebastian Richards once said he liked sapphires. So she used up all her savings to get it for him.

Now? She regretted it.

At that very moment, in a corner of their villa, her husband was wrapped around a blond girl.

The girl was young, dressed in a perfectly fitted white dress. Her golden hair flowed down her back like silk.

She tilted her head up slightly and gave Sebastian a command, almost playfully: "Kiss me, Sebastian! Hard!"

Sebastian didn't respond right away, just stared at her gently-and that moment gave Elaria a flicker of hope.

He never kissed her in public. Maybe he'd reject the blond too?

But reality slapped her in the face-hard.

Instead, Sebastian chuckled softly and leaned down, kissing the girl full on the lips.

She let out a surprised but sweet moan, then reached up and touched his throat-right at his Adam's apple.

Elaria's pupils shrank at the sight, her gaze locked on that hand.

That spot-his Adam's apple-was something he was incredibly sensitive about.

It had always been their little secret, something deeply personal, almost forbidden between them.

She had always believed she was the only one allowed to touch him there.

But now, that girl was brushing it with her fingers, all curious and unafraid.

Sebastian didn't flinch.

His Adam's apple even moved slightly up and down in response.

The girl leaned against the cold wall, still murmuring something in that coy, soft voice.

Sebastian's tall, looming figure pressed closer, effectively trapping her between himself and the wall.

He leaned in, noses nearly touching, like they were in their own little bubble.

The girl looked up, lips parted just enough-it was a silent invite.

Elaria shut her eyes tight, trying to shut out the burning scene.

She didn't recognize the man in that moment.

That wasn't the composed, sharp heir who dominated negotiation tables.

It wasn't the aloof, polite husband who always kept a polite distance at home.

It wasn't even the man who stayed cold and mechanical in their occasional, passionless nights.

No-this man would break his rules just for a coquettish word from that blond.

He'd make out with her in broad daylight, practically in front of the world.

Turns out, he wasn't cold at all.

He simply never loved her, Elaria.

That realization sliced through her like a dull, icy blade, pressing slow and deep into a heart already shattered from years of trying.

Three years of marriage-a thousand nights and more-she had clung to her title as Mrs. Richards like it was salvation, locking herself into a golden prison.

Tiptoeing around his moods, learning his wants, pretending to be the perfect wife.

Foolishly thinking, maybe he'd soften toward her one day.

What a joke.