At 6:55 the next morning, I stood barefoot on the beach wondering whether sixty million yuan could buy me a new personality.

Because my current personality hated mornings.

Leo was already there.

He looked at his watch.

“You’re early, ma’am.”

My smile disappeared.

“Why do you keep calling me that?”

He blinked.

“Because you’re older than me?”

I stared at him.

He immediately corrected himself.

“Because you seem… respectable.”

“Worse.”

He laughed.

It was the first time I noticed his smile properly.

Bright.

Carefree.

Annoyingly young.

“Get on the board,” he said.

Twenty minutes later, I had swallowed enough seawater to reconsider every decision I had made since signing the divorce papers.

Leo stood waist-deep in the water.

“Again.”

“I’m thirty, not immortal.”

“You’re acting eighty.”

I glared at him.

Then climbed back onto the board.

This time, when the wave came, I pushed myself up.

One foot.

Then the other.

For perhaps three glorious seconds, I stood.

“I’m doing it!”

I shouted.

Then I fell sideways.

When I surfaced, laughing uncontrollably, Leo was laughing too.

And suddenly something strange happened.

I felt happy.

Not Julian’s wife.

Not the abandoned woman.

Not someone competing with a twenty-two-year-old.

Just Nora.

After breakfast, I checked my phone.

Nine missed calls.

All from Julian.

I frowned and called back.

He answered immediately.

“Where were you?”

“Surfing.”

Silence.

“You?”

“Surfing.”

Another silence.

“With whom?”

I almost smiled.

“Why?”

“Nora, you can barely swim.”

“I can swim.”

“You panic when water reaches your shoulders.”

“That happened once.”

“It happened on our honeymoon.”

My smile faded.

Julian seemed to realize it too.

His voice softened.

“Who’s teaching you?”

“Someone.”

“Who?”

I looked across the terrace.

Leo was carrying two surfboards toward the equipment shed.

“Leo.”

“Leo who?”

“Why are you interrogating me?”

“I’m not.”

“You sound exactly like you are.”

Julian became quiet.

Finally he said:

“I just want to know you’re safe.”

Something inside me tightened.

Six years of habit was dangerous.

Sometimes concern sounded so much like love that you forgot the difference.

“I’m safe.”

I hung up.

Mia appeared with coffee.

“Ex-husband?”

“Yes.”

“Jealous?”

“No.”

“You sound disappointed.”

I threw a napkin at her.

Three days passed.

Then five.

I learned to stand on the board.

I learned to eat breakfast alone.

I learned that I could make hotel reservations without an assistant.

I also discovered that having money did not automatically make someone competent.

Once, I ordered groceries online and somehow bought twelve kilograms of onions.

Leo found me staring at them.

“What are you doing?”

“Thinking about opening a restaurant.”

He looked at the onions.

Then at me.

“You accidentally added twelve bags?”

“Leave.”

He laughed.

But Leo never flirted with me.

That bothered me more than I wanted to admit.

He treated me exactly like everyone else.

When I fell, he laughed.

When I complained, he ignored me.

When I offered to buy everyone dinner at the most expensive restaurant in Nansa, he said:

“Why?”

“Because I can.”

“That’s not a reason.”

Nobody had spoken to me like that in years.

Julian had always solved everything for me.

Leo expected me to solve things myself.

Strangely, I began to like it.

Then, on Friday afternoon, Julian appeared.

I was sitting outside Mia’s hotel drinking coconut water when a black car stopped at the entrance.

I recognized it immediately.

My stomach dropped.

Julian stepped out.

White shirt.

Dark trousers.

Expression terrible.

Mia whispered:

“Oh.”

I whispered back:

“Why is he here?”

“Maybe sixty million came with after-sales service.”

Julian walked directly toward us.

His gaze landed on me.

Then on Leo, who happened to be sitting beside me.

Leo stood politely.

Julian looked him over.

“How old are you?”

I nearly choked.

Leo raised an eyebrow.

“Twenty-five.”

Julian looked at me.

I looked at the sea.

Mia suddenly found the clouds fascinating.

“Nora,” Julian said, “can we talk?”

“No.”

His expression tightened.

“I flew three hours.”

“That sounds like poor planning.”

Leo coughed, obviously hiding a laugh.

Julian noticed.

For one horrifying second, I thought two grown men were about to start behaving like teenagers.

Instead Julian placed a folder on the table.

“You left this at home.”

I opened it.

My university certificates.

Old documents.

Several photographs.

Things I had forgotten existed.

“You flew here personally for this?”

“I had business nearby.”

Mia whispered:

“Liar.”

I kicked her under the table.

Julian heard anyway.

He ignored her.

Then his eyes fell on the surfboard beside my chair.

“You’re really learning?”

“Yes.”

“You hate the ocean.”

“I discovered I only hate drowning.”

For some reason, he looked at me for a long time.

“You’ve changed.”

I laughed.

“It’s been twelve days.”

“I know.”

But his expression said something else.

That evening, Julian stayed at the hotel.

Apparently his “business nearby” required exactly zero meetings.

At dinner, I finally asked:

“Where is your twenty-two-year-old?”

His fork stopped.

Mia suddenly became extremely interested in her soup.

Julian looked at me.

“Who?”

My blood pressure rose instantly.

“The reason we’re divorced.”

Understanding appeared on his face.

“You mean Sophie.”

“Wonderful. She has a name.”

“Nora—”

“Don’t worry. I’m not asking because I care.”

“You clearly care.”

I put down my fork.

“Fine. Where is Sophie?”

“London.”

“Already?”

“She went back to university.”

I stared at him.

“You divorced me for a student?”

Julian rubbed his forehead.

“I never said I divorced you for her.”

My entire body went still.

“What?”

“You asked whether there was someone else.”

“You said yes.”

“There was.”

“And she was twenty-two.”

“Yes.”

“And you were in love with her.”

Julian stared at me.

Then, very slowly, he said:

“No.”

I stopped breathing for a second.

Mia stopped eating.

Even Leo, sitting two seats away, looked over.

I felt something cold spread through my chest.

“Then why did you divorce me?”

Julian didn’t answer.

I laughed once.

There was no humor in it.

“You gave me sixty million, two properties and practically half the assets already under my name. You let me believe you were leaving me for a twenty-two-year-old girl.”

“Nora.”

“Why?”

His face changed.

For the first time since I had known him, Julian Hart looked afraid.

Not guilty.

Afraid.

He stood.

“Not here.”

“Here.”

“Nora.”

“Tell me.”

His jaw tightened.

Then my phone rang.

Unknown number.

I almost rejected it.

Something made me answer.

“Hello?”

A woman spoke.

“You’re Nora Hart?”

My eyes moved automatically toward Julian.

“Yes.”

There was a pause.

“My name is Sophie Bennett.”

The restaurant disappeared around me.

I slowly stood.

Across the table, Julian’s face lost all color.

Sophie continued:

“I think your ex-husband has been lying to both of us.”

I gripped the phone.

“What are you talking about?”

Another pause.

Then she said the sentence that changed everything.

“I’m not Julian’s lover.”

My eyes locked onto his.

“I’m his daughter.”

And for the first time since our divorce, Julian looked like the sixty million had never been compensation for betraying me.

It had been payment for keeping me far away from a secret he was terrified I would discover.