"Ethan." Chloe cut him off softly, her tone remaining calm yet possessing an unyielding firmness. "Let the past stay in the past. You should have seen the divorce agreement by now.

Find a time and we'll finalize the paperwork. I don't want a dime of your assets. These 3 years, let's just pretend it was a bad dream. A bad dream.

Those three words were light, yet they sawed like a blunt blade slowly across Ethan's heart. It suddenly dawned on him that in three years of marriage, he had never heard her call him by his full name in such a crystal clear, calm, and resolute voice. It wasn't a dream. He raised his voice suddenly.

Tinged with a desperation he didn't even recognize. Chloe, I know I was wrong that night. I shouldn't have left you. But Lily was in a critical situation.

She was alone. Her foot was hurt. You don't need to explain Ms. Lawson's situation to me. Chloe interrupted him again.

A faint, almost ghost-like smile tugged at her lips. That's between you and her. It has nothing to do with me. How could it have nothing to do with you?

You're my wife. Ethan's composure finally cracked. He stepped forward, reaching to grab her wrist, but she gracefully stepped aside to avoid his grasp. Those hands, which used to gently fix his collar and serve him hot tea, were now slick with cold mud, shunning him like poison.

Chloe raised her eyes, gazing quietly at him. The eyes that once overflowed with warm expectations for him now held only crystalline clarity and a faint exhaustion. Ethan Vance, she said slowly, every word ringing with absolute clarity. From the moment you abandoned me in a pouring storm at the airport without a second thought over another woman's phone call, from the moment you didn't check on me for seven straight days and couldn't even remember what day it was, the role of wife ended for me.

That's not true. I was so busy those days, too busy to make a single call or send a single text. Chloe countered softly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it acted like a fine needle popping all his self-deluded excuses.

Ethan, face reality. You weren't busy. You just didn't care. You didn't care if I got soaked in the rain, didn't care if I was heartbroken, didn't care where I went, and didn't even care if I existed in your world anymore.

She paused, her eyes sweeping over his expensive yet travel crumpled shirt, passing over the frantic anxiety and disheveled distress in his eyes he couldn't hide in time. A deep weariness echoed in her voice. For three years, I was so exhausted. I was always waiting for you to turn around, waiting for you to see me, waiting for you to throw me a crumb of affection and care.

I was like a beggar holding out my genuine heart by the roadside of your path, while you found it a waste of time to even bend down for a look. No, Chloe. I, right now, I don't want to wait anymore, and I don't want it anymore. Chloe's tone suddenly became wonderfully light, as though a tremendous weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

Look at me. Without you, without the title of Mrs. Vance, I'm living so well. For the first time, I learned how sweet the sun feels when it warms the clay. I learned that my hands can create soulful pottery instead of just ironing your shirts.

I learned how peaceful and fulfilling it is to live even a single day quietly for myself. She took a few steps forward, standing at the courtyard gate, gazing out at the slow-flowing river and the gentle curls of chimney smoke rising on the opposite bank. Her profile looked soft yet unyielding in the setting sun. Go back, Ethan.

Return to your corporate empire, back to the world of networking and control that you dominate. That is your battleground. And here, she turned back to glance at him, a look as tranquil as still water. Yet, it felt like a gulf of a thousand miles stretched between them.

"is my peace." We were never from the same world. I was foolish in the past, always trying to squeeze into yours. Now, I see clearly and I've walked away.

Let's let each other go, okay? Ethan stood transfixed, looking at her figure haloed in gold by the sunset, witnessing the vast, quiet peace in her eyes that he had never reached and could never touch again. He suddenly realized with terrifying clarity he had lost her. Not a temporary separation, not a passing fit, but a permanent, absolute loss of the Chloe who had once loved him with all her heart and soul.

It felt as though an invisible fist had gripped his heart, squeezing it with a suffocating pain. He parted his lips, only to find his throat choked, unable to utter a single sound. The sun dipped behind distant hills, shedding its final last rays from Chloe's silhouette. She turned around, picked up the newly shaped clay piece that still held the warmth of her fingers from the rack, and called out softly toward the inner studio, ""Master Miller, I'm heading back for today.

I'll come back tomorrow to trim the clay."" A warm, elderly voice called out from inside, "All right, walk carefully, Chloe." Chloe gave Ethan a subtle nod as a final farewell, then cradling her piece of pottery, stepped out of Nie En Studio's courtyard with steady strides. Walking down the cobblestone street toward Seven Clouds Lodge, she didn't look back once.

Ethan stood frozen in the deepening twilight, watching her silhouette merge into the warm lights and crowd of the ancient town until she vanished. The evening breeze brushed past, carrying the river air and the aroma of home-cooked meals, a humble, yet vibrant breath of real life, worlds apart from the icy office towers and expensive perfumes he was accustomed to. He suddenly recalled a long time ago. Chloe had timidly asked him, "Ethan, could we go stay in one of those quiet, slow-paced towns for a few days sometime?

Just the two of us." How had he responded? He was reviewing a merger proposal at the time and hadn't even looked up, answering impatiently, "What's the point of going to places like that? It's a waste of time.