Chapter 188

Philip's POV

After Ruth left my office, I remained alone in the silence, the burning sensation on my cheek a stark reminder of everything that had just transpired.

"You had everything and you destroyed it." Ruth's words echoed relentlessly in my mind.

I leaned back in my chair, barely able to breathe. She was right. Once,I had a beautiful family-Annie's love and Brian's adoration. Now, Annie felt nothing for me. Brian was afraid to see me, and I was left alone,trapped in this spacious yet empty office.

The most painful realization was that I had finally understood all of this was my own doing.

I picked up my phone, mindlessly scrolling through social media.Suddenly,a photo caught my attention-Howard's Instagram post. In it,Annie was styling two little girls' hair, her smile so natural and radiant,in stark contrast to the exhaustion and pain that had marked her face during the final months of our marriage.

"A happy day." Howard's simple caption felt like a dagger straight to my heart.

That should have been my photo. That shoud have been our happiness.Looking at that relaxed smile on Annie's face-one she had never shown me-an indescribable jealousy and sense of loss washed over me. She was genuinely happier than she had ever been with me-this knowledge burned like poison in my soul. I stared at the photo, myfingers trembling, driven by an inexplicable anger and need for control. I clicked on the comment section and hastily typed."Did you get Annie's permission before posting her photo?"

The moment I hit send, rationality returned.and I instantly regretted it.The comment was both boring and ridiculous,completely revealing my jealousy and insecurity. Pathetically, I couldn't even control my own fingers,just as I couldn't control my life.

Howard's response was clean and direct: "How do you know I didn't have her permission?"

I continued to press: "Is she willing to make your relationship public?"

"We've been public about our relationship for some time. Didn't you know?11

I stared at this answer, my finger hovering over the screen. Howard was right.Why would I assume they would be secretive?

Taking a deep breath, I dialed Howard's number. Each ring tightened my heart a little more. When he answered, my throat felt dry.

"It's me," his voice was calm and low, in stark contrast to the chaos inside me.

"Howard, do you realize how negatively this could affect Annie?" I asked,feigning concern and trying to sound somewhat authoritative. I knew I had no right to appear as a protector, but I needed an excuse to talk to him.

Maybe I could catch Annie's voice.

"Elaborate," he replied briefly, his voice remaining steady.

"If you don't marry Annie, then she-" I began crafting a narrative.attempting to appear concerned for Annie's welfare.

"I will marry her," he calmly interrupted my hypothesis, without revealing any unnecessary emotion.

Three simple words, direct and clear, yet they hit my chest like a heavyweight punch. I had fantasized that he might justbe playing around.had comforted myself with the thought that Annie would eventually realize Howard wasn't serious. That fantasy shattered in an instant.

I was momentarily speechless, my lips dry, quickly adjusting my strategy."Are you certain Annie is right for you? What if after marriage you suddenly discover you're incompatible? What then? Will you abandon her?Divorce her?" As I spoke these words, I knew I was projecting-exactly what I had done.

"If we weren't compatible, then I wouldn't have gotten to this point with her," his voice was steady and resolute. "Philip Baker, I'm deliberate in my decisions."

The certainty in his tone stung me. In that moment, I suddenly realized I had never had such certainty. Every relationship I'd been in, even my marriage to Annie, had always been accompanied by doubts and escape routes.

"Relationships change, people change," I insisted, the anxiety in my voice evident even to myself.

"I know what I want, and I know who Annie is-not who I want her to be,but who she truly is."

That statement was like a mirror, reflecting that I had never truly known Annie. I only saw what I wanted her to be docile, compliant.always forgiving of my mistakes. I wanted to object. but he continued:

"Have you considered that perhaps your inability to commit is a personal deficiency,not the norm?"

Those wordIs hit my stomach like a punch, nearly suffocating me. Howard had articulated the truth I had been avoiding all along-the problem was never Annie, but me. "What do you mean?" I struggled to keep my voice steady.but could feel it trembling slightly.

"You treat relationships like disposable commodities. Not everyone does that, nor should they."

Each word pierced my heart like a needle. I felt a shame I had never experienced before, because he was absolutely right. I had indeed treated relationships, Annie, my marriage, as accessories that could be replaced at any time.

"That's not fair!" I protested, but even I found the defense weak. My voice had lost its initial arrogance, replaced by futile justifications.

"Not fair?" Howard questioned, his voice carrying an edge for the first time.

"You had Annie's love and Brian's admiration, yet you destroyed everything with your own hands. Now you're questioning my commitment to her?"

I couldn't answer. He had pinpointed my hypocrisy with surgical precision.My throat felt blocked, unable to produce any sound, as I silently held the phone,feeling the burning pain with each passing second.

"I've made arrangements," he continued calmly, seemingly sensing my struggle, the edge in his voice disappearing again. "If anything happens to me,Annie will be well taken care of."

This statement caught me off guard, piquing my curiosity. "What do you mean?" I asked eagerly, trying to understand how Howard differed from me.

"My assets. Apart from what's reserved for my parents,everything else will go to Annie."

My heart skipped a beat. This answer shocked me. Throughout my marriage with Annie, I had never considered her long-term interests; even during our divorce. I deliberately ensured she got nothing.

"You're not leaving anything to Lucy?" I asked in surprise, almost instinctively looking for flaws in his plan.

"Lucy is too young to manage such wealth, and it would make her a target.By ensuring Annie's financial security. Lucy will naturally be taken care of.Annie loves Lucy as her own, they will support each other."

Howard's answer plunged me into deep thought. Every decision he made was thoroughly considered, taking into account all possible outcomes. And me? What arrangements had I ever made to protect Annie or Brian? I wasn't even sure what they would receive if I suddenly passed away.

This level of comprehensive consideration left me speechless. I had never thought of anyone the way Howard did, not even those I claimed to have loved. This realization sent a chill through my bones.

"Who knows if you're sincere or just saying pretty words?" I weakly challenged as a last resort, the conviction already gone from my voice. It was a final struggle, a pathetic attempt to not admit I had thoroughly lost.

Howard chuckled lightly. "You don't need to believe my words;observing my actions should be enough."

This simple answer completely defeated me. I mumbled a few words as farewell, then hastily hung up, not wanting him to hear the wavering in my voice.

*This is what it truly means to love someone.*

Howard didn't just say he loved Annie-he proved it through his actions.In comparison, what had I given? I had driven Annie out of our home during the divorce, ensuring she got nothing. I had instigated Brian to distance himself from her. Even now, my desire to reconcile stemmed more from wounded pride than genuine love or remorse.

I suddenly realized that even if Annie and Howard were to separate someday-which seemed almost impossible-she would never return to me. After experiencing the depth of true love, how could she ever accept my shallow affection?

A tear fell onto the desk, making a faint sound.

*That's the sound of my heart breaking.*

No one had ever taught me how to truly love someone.Myparents marriage had been a cold arrangement of interests, my father's affairs were an open secret, and my mother's response had always been detached tolerance.

*If I learn how to love now-if I truly change myself-would it be too late?

I thought of Annie's smile, of the family I once had and destroyed with my own hands, of Brian who carried the shadow of my failures. *We still have a child together." I clung to this thought as a last hope.But even as this idea formed. I knew it wasn't enough. A child is not a bargaining chip for forced reconciliation:using Brian in this way would only cause more harm.