"Mr. Pettyfer said it was just a worthless bracelet. I thought..."

Oliver interrupted our exchange, his tone dismissive.

"Enough! I was just trying to lighten the mood. I never said you couldn't have it.

"Why are you being so petty? Just because of a bracelet, you're going to throw a divorce in my face?

"Scarlett, you're really getting bold!"

Oliver seemed to think that after all these years, he was the one keeping me afloat, allowing me to enjoy my life as a wealthy wife.

But Oliver had conveniently forgotten that it was during his company's bankruptcy that I had made the hard choice to sell that bracelet to help him get back on his feet.

Now, his words felt like a denial of my worth.

I said, forcing a bitter laugh, "You know what that bracelet means to me.

"I'm not making a scene."

I cradled the broken pieces of the bracelet in my hands, my expression betraying no emotion.

"See you in court on Monday."

With that, I turned on my heel, leaving Oliver staring after me, his face gloomy.

The autumn rain fell in heavy sheets, thick and relentless. It was just like the autumn when Oliver lost everything.

I remembered how he held me close, weeping, promising he would find a way to buy it back.

"You have to wait for me. I'll give you the life you want," Oliver had said.

And I believed him.

Now, I was left with shattered pieces of the bracelet and the sting of his disdain.

I couldn't help but laugh at my own naivety.

I didn't know what Lillian had whispered in his ear, but I could guess it was something that hit too close to home.

For me, that bracelet was a symbol of Miranda's love. For Oliver, it was a constant reminder that he had risen from nothing thanks to my sacrifice.

His pride wouldn't allow him to accept that.

It was ironic, really.

Oliver thought relying on a woman's money was shameful, yet here we were.

But I was beyond caring now.

I touched the bag that held the remnants of the bracelet and quickly reached out to a skilled craftsman, asking if there was any chance of repair.

After examining it for a while, he confirmed it could be fixed but warned that it might never look the same again.

"If it holds special meaning for you, I'd recommend leaving it as is," he said gently, clearly concerned about my feelings.

I remembered the day my mother passed, how she had held my hand and Oliver's, urging us to take care of each other.