Within their first year of marriage, Timothy Xavier transformed into an emotional stranger. A Buddhist altar dominated the villa while Buddha beads remained eternally clasped in his hands. Every attempt to revive his affection fell against a wall of indifference. One night, the painful truth emerged behind the bathroom door. I watched him weep over a photograph—not of me, but of another woman. Timothy was far from emotionless; he simply harbored no feelings for me. Desperate to escape, I manipulated him into signing the divorce agreement and vanished completely. Unknown to me, finding her became his consuming obsession. Fate intervened at his uncle's wedding. She arrived in a white wedding gown, breathtaking and serene. Upon seeing her, his eyes flushed red—the word 'aunt' lodged in his throat, unspoken.