When Wendy saw Carter and Kelly, her brows drew together instinctively, and a flicker of deep disgust surfaced in her eyes.
Her voice was cold. “Shaluna is not for sale.”
Kelly’s brow twitched ever so slightly, her gaze quickly shifting to the woman standing beside Wendy—Sharon.
Compared to Kelly’s delicate charm, the kind you’d find in a dainty porcelain figure, Sharon had a quiet grace, a poised elegance. Her face was a perfect oval, her features soft yet defined. Her eyes, limpid and calm, seemed to hold a ripple of water. She looked just like a classical beauty walking straight out of an ancient painting.
The moment Kelly laid eyes on her, something flickered in her gaze.
She walked quickly toward Sharon and stopped in front of her, her expression tinged with a pleading softness.
“Sharon,” she said gently, “is this violin your friend’s? Could you ask your friend to lend it to me for a little while? Back then, Carter and I met because of the violin. I was practicing in the garden, and he was drawn to my music. That’s how he found me… and how we got together. He always loved hearing me play.
“Sharon, I don’t know how much time I have left. I don’t even know if I can still hold a successful concert. But no matter what, I want to try—just one more time.”
Whether intentional or not, Kelly lowered her head slightly, revealing the familiar necklace on her neck.
The overhead lights caught the pendant, scattering soft brilliance.
The gleam stabbed into Sharon’s eyes.
Her voice was emotionless. “People die every day in this world. So what—just because someone with a terminal illness appears in front of me, I’m supposed to accommodate them?”
Kelly had clearly never heard such words before. Her eyes reddened instantly, tears pooling, trembling on the edge.
Carter’s expression turned cold. “Sharon, it’s just a violin. Must you be so aggressive? If you like it that much, I’ll buy you another.”
Sharon looked at him. “Exactly. It’s just a violin. If she wants one, buy her another. Why does it have to be mine?”
Kelly pleaded softly beside them. “Sharon, what would it take for you to let me borrow it? Whatever conditions you have, just name them.”
Name her price? As if the bill wouldn’t end up on Carter’s desk in the end?
Sharon let out a soundless laugh. “Kelly, you seem quite fond of things left behind by my mother. First the necklace, now the violin.”
Kelly blinked, confused. “I don’t quite understand what you mean.”
Watching her feign innocence, Sharon sneered inwardly.
“This violin—Shaluna—was my mother’s. And that necklace around your neck, that too was hers.”
Kelly’s face turned pale. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t know it belonged to your mother… Last night, Theo gave me a gift box with the necklace inside. I thought it was a gift from Carter, so I wore it. I didn’t realize it was your mother’s…”
Sharon gave a light, cool laugh. “Well, now that you do—can you give it back?”
Kelly touched the necklace at her collarbone, bit her lip, and looked up at Carter, eyes shimmering.
“Carter, since Sharon is asking… why not just let her have the necklace? We shouldn’t upset her over something so trivial—it’s not worth it.”
Let her have it?
Not return it—let her have it.
As if even if the necklace was originally her mother’s, it wasn’t hers to begin with. As if Kelly were magnanimously granting her a favor, not returning what never belonged to her in the first place.
Carter already believed that Sharon’s talk of divorce was just a ploy to threaten him. He hadn’t liked that. Now, as he heard Kelly’s words, his expression grew colder.
“No need,” he said. “Since I gave it to you, it’s yours.”
“But…” Kelly started.
He cut her off. “Once something’s given away, there’s no reason to take it back.”
A trace of emotion stirred on Kelly’s face—touched, grateful.
Sharon instinctively curled her fingers into a fist.
Then, as if shaking something off, she smiled faintly.
“Kelly, didn’t you want to borrow the violin? Sure. If Mr. Biggs begs me for it, I’ll consider it.”
Kelly’s pupils widened. She looked stunned.
Carter’s expression darkened to something almost dangerous.
“Sharon,” he said coldly, “that’s enough.”
Her tone turned mocking. “And here I thought Mr. Biggs would do anything for you, Kelly. But now… seems that isn’t quite true.”
She had once believed Carter would sacrifice anything for Kelly.
Now she realized: the things he sacrificed were always the ones that didn’t matter.
Like her.
Once she understood that, Sharon felt nothing anymore. Not disappointment. Not anger. Just… nothing.
She turned to the shop manager, who’d been frozen at the side.
“If I’m not mistaken,” she said, “the authorization for this violin expires today. Please remove it from display—I’m taking it home.”
The manager glanced cautiously at Carter.
Sharon raised a brow. “What? As the owner, do I not even have the right to take my own violin?”
“N-no, of course not,” the manager stammered. “I’ll arrange the paperwork right away.”
Once the handover was complete, Sharon took the violin and walked out without looking back. She didn’t spare Carter or Kelly so much as a glance.
Carter’s brows knit tightly as he watched her leave.
Kelly lowered her head slightly, voice tinged with guilt. “It must be because you forgot her birthday yesterday. That’s why she’s angry… It’s my fault, I’ve been a burden.”
“It has nothing to do with you,” Carter replied, voice flat as he looked away. “Go ahead and prepare for the concert. I’ll have someone send the Shaluna to you later.”
A bright smile spread across Kelly’s face. “Okay.”
…
That night, Carter returned home on time for once.
But Sharon wasn’t around to greet him with a warm meal like she always did.
When dinner time came around, Theo came downstairs as usual. But the dining room was empty, the table bare.
He looked puzzled. “Daddy, didn’t Mommy cook dinner today?”
Sharon had always been the perfect wife and mother. She never argued, never made a fuss. She played her role flawlessly.
Carter had never loved her, but overall, he’d been quite satisfied.
Especially with Theo’s weak stomach and picky eating habits—Sharon never left meals to the staff. She always cooked everything herself, including dinner and late-night snacks.
Thinking of what had happened during the day, Carter pressed his lips into a line, his face darkening slightly.
If this was her way of retaliating, of throwing a tantrum, then she was overestimating herself.
“Don’t worry about her,” he said coolly. “Let’s go eat out.”
Theo clapped happily. “Yay! Can Kelly come along too? I want cotton candy again!”
“Cotton candy?” Carter blinked. “Didn’t your mom say you can’t eat it because you’re lactose intolerant?”
