She grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and walked to Ethan's bedroom door, giving it a couple of knocks. "Ethan, you alright? I brought you some water."

The coughing inside stopped abruptly, and everything went dead quiet.

After a long pause, his voice came through the door, weak but sharp as ever, carrying a detached coldness. "No need. Go back to sleep."

Just from his tone, Carol could almost picture his expression-cold, distant, completely closed off.

She held the slightly heated glass in her hand and replied softly, "Okay.

"I'll leave then."

She wasn't the type to keep trying when clearly not welcome. She turned to leave but hesitated halfway, pausing, then leaning back toward the door with her ear pressed to it, still worried.

It was so quiet inside that it made her uneasy.

Suddenly, the door swung open from the inside.

Carol froze mid-action, awkwardly straightening up from her odd posture.

She met Ethan's deep, unreadable eyes. His gaze seemed darker than usual, probably because he'd just had a heavy coughing fit. A bit of moisture lingered in his eyes, making him look slightly more human.

"I'm not dying anytime soon," he said hoarsely, voice still cold and distant.

Carol held out the glass. "Still, have some warm water."

He gave her a look, brows furrowed ever so slightly, skeptical. "It's pointless. Warm water won't cure me."

"I know," she said casually. "But your throat must feel awful after all that coughing. A bit of warm water might help, you know?"

Ethan didn't take the glass, his tone laced with sarcasm, like always. "You had the chance to walk away, but you chose not to. So what's the point-pleasing a guy who might be on his deathbed won't get you anywhere."

His eyes scanned her face, as if trying hard to dig out even a hint of insincerity beneath her calm, almost annoyingly gentle gaze.

But all he found was quiet steadiness, and maybe... real concern?

Carol blinked, her tone light. "Well, everyone dies someday. But while we're alive, might as well not make it harder than it already is. I already got the water anyway-makes sense to try and feel at least a bit better, right?"

Ethan was taken aback, not expecting that response.

While he was still processing, Carol slid the cup into his slightly cold fingers, turned on her heel, and walked away with ease.

"Get some rest."

Ethan just stood there, staring down at the warm glass in his hand. The surface rippled slightly from the earlier movement.

A faint, unfamiliar scent lingered in the air-something gentle and warm, so out of place in this cold house. It was hers.

He stood there for a long time, so long that his legs started to go numb and that scratchy feeling in his chest began creeping back again.

Finally, his pale fingers gripped the glass a bit tighter.

The heat from the glass stung his cold skin slightly, a strange kind of sensation.

With the glass in hand, he turned around, walked back into the room, and shut the door behind him.

The hallway outside fell silent again.

Inside, he placed the glass on the bedside table. He didn't drink it.

He just sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, eyes closed and brows slightly furrowed, lost in thoughts that wouldn't leave him alone.

The night was far from over.

...

The following days passed without a ripple.Carol worked her 9-to-5 and came home to make dinner.

Every time she thought about whipping up something spicy to treat herself, Jack's voice would echo in her mind, "Mr. Mitchell can't handle spicy food," and before she knew it, she'd end up cooking something bland again.

Over the phone, Sophia practically shouted, "You, of all people, living on spice, now suddenly eating bland food just for him?"

"Carol, be honest with me. Don't tell me you've fallen for him? Look, I get swooning over a good-looking guy, but he's seriously ill! Falling for him is like jumping into a pit!"

Carol rolled her eyes at the phone. "Falling in love isn't as simple as flipping a switch, okay? Plus, too much spice isn't great for skin either. Let's just say I'm trying to eat clean.

"He's good-looking, sure, but don't worry, he's not some prince charming in my book."

Sophia sounded half-desperate, "Just promise you won't catch feelings, alright? Do not fall for someone you shouldn't!"

Right after hanging up, Carol got a call from Jack letting her know Ethan had an evening engagement and wouldn't be home for dinner.

It was the first time since they got married he had dinner plans away from home, and Carol was a bit surprised.

She figured, hey, with him out of the house, it was finally spicy time. But turns out, bland was her new default-she'd already seasoned everything mild without even thinking.

She had just finished eating when she heard the door open-Ethan was back.

Seeing his gaze sweep over the spotless dining table, Carol explained, "Didn't you have dinner out? I didn't make anything for you."

Ethan just gave a low "Mm" and headed upstairs to his study without another word.

Carol didn't think much of it and went back to sketching her designs.

But later that night, when everything was quiet, a loud crash from the kitchen made her jump.

She opened the door and found Ethan collapsed on the floor. A shattered glass lay next to him.

Panicked, she called Jack and rushed him to the hospital.

After some checks, the doctor said it was a stomach issue. Guilt instantly washed over Carol.

Was it because she hadn't made dinner for him...?

Jack looked apologetic. "Sorry, ma'am. We were at Golden Hearth restaurant, and I thought Mr. Mitchell would eat something, but he didn't touch much.

"Maybe... he wanted to come back and eat your cooking."

Carol found that hard to believe. No way Ethan wanted to come home just to eat what she cooked.

If she were facing a stranger she couldn't kick out, she wouldn't want to come home either.

Still, guilt settled deep in her gut.

Before heading to work that morning, she packed up some homemade chicken soup and asked Jack to drop it off at the hospital. Luckily, Ethan's condition wasn't too serious, and he got discharged that same day.

But somehow, the word made it to the family estate before she even got off work. Grace Carter had already summoned her home.

Carol knew exactly what was coming and quietly prayed for mercy under her breath: Lord, please help me.

As expected, the moment she stepped into the estate, Grace greeted her with a frosty, "Carol, you're here."

Carol quickly put on a smile and took the lead, "Grace, it's my fault. I didn't take care of Ethan properly..."

Seeing her admit fault right away, Grace couldn't lash out too much, though her tone still carried subtle blame.

"Ethan's health isn't great; he needs more of your care. You two share a bed, don't you? How did he even collapse?"

Carol was about to have a headache just trying to keep her smile in place. Her tone stayed earnest though. "Grace, don't worry. It was totally my fault this time. I'll take better care of Ethan from now on, I promise."

Grace's face softened a little at those words, clearly appeased.

When she heard from Jack that Ethan had been eating all the meals Carol cooked lately, surprise flickered across her face, quickly followed by satisfaction. "Good girl. Knew I picked the right one.

"You'll cook tonight too, okay? I mean, even when I personally make something, Ethan barely touches it sometimes. Seems like he's got a soft spot for you..."

Carol couldn't really say no at that point, so she agreed.

She thought maybe that was the end of it, but after dinner, Grace pulled her aside into a side room, and things only got more awkward when the topic shifted to having kids.

"Ethan doesn't have much time left, you know. You two should... make the most of your nights," Grace hinted rather bluntly.

Carol's face heated up as she floundered for a response. "Grace, we just got married. We're still figuring each other out..."

Grace gently patted her hand and said in a slow, meaningful tone, "I'm not saying you shouldn't build feelings. Love can be made too, while you're at it."

Carol was so caught off guard her face instantly turned red. And then came the final line from Grace: "You two aren't going home tonight. Stay here."

Carol had been counting on Ethan to object-he didn't.

After dinner, he just went upstairs like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Carol followed behind, confused. "We're really not going back?"

Ethan was loosening his tie as he said flatly, "A priest is coming by tomorrow morning to say a blessing."

That's when she remembered Grace had mentioned it over dinner-something about bringing someone in to bless the place for Ethan's sake.

She couldn't help wondering-someone like Ethan, highly educated and rational, actually believed in this stuff?

Almost like he'd read her mind, Ethan said after a pause, voice laced with subtle exhaustion, "I don't buy into any of it."

This was for his mother-her last bit of hope.

He'd long stopped caring about living, but he didn't want to take that hope away from someone who cared.

He turned to her then, his gaze dark and steady. "I'll ask once more-still thinking about that divorce?"

Carol didn't say anything. Instead, she walked straight over to the bed, pulled back the covers, and climbed into the only bed in the room.

Nope.

Ethan frowned. "Who said you could sleep there?"

Carol stared at him like he'd grown another head. "There's only one bed. What do you expect me to do, sleep on the floor? I'm still a respectable woman, you know."

Ethan didn't answer, but his expression said it all-he wasn't stopping her.

Carol looked like she was about to explode from frustration. "What if your mom pops in again for a surprise inspection? You think she made us stay over here for fun?

"You don't want her stressing over you again, do you?"

That finally shut Ethan up-he fell silent, clearly giving in.

Seeing that she got her way, Carol smugly crawled back into bed. But right after saying that, she couldn't help but feel something was off.

Damn, she sounded just like one of those shady bosses in those sketchy videos: "You wouldn't want your husband to find out, would you..."

A shiver ran down her spine. Mortified, she yanked the covers over her head and curled up like a burrito.

"Wait, hang on..." She suddenly remembered something and peeked her head out, just about to say something to Ethan.

At the same time, Ethan was leaning toward her side, probably trying to grab the water on her nightstand.

They ended up way too close-like, nose-to-nose, literally breathing each other's air, on the verge of kissing.

And of course, right then, the door creaked open. Grace poked her head in and caught them mid-almost-kiss. Her face instantly lit up and she yanked the door shut, her voice cheerful from the hallway.

"Don't mind me! Pretend I wasn't even here!"

Both Ethan and Carol: "..."

They scrambled to move apart, the tension thick.

Only one dim bedside lamp was on, throwing soft shadows. Somehow, Carol noticed his ears had turned faintly red. Maybe it was just the lighting, but...

Ethan was the first to speak, his voice a bit lower now, raspier. "You were saying something just now?"

Carol's mind was still blank. She blinked and answered automatically, "...totally forgot."

Eventually, they settled onto the same bed, though a whole body could've fit in the space between them-like they were on opposite ends of a galaxy or something.

In the dark, their silhouettes stayed stiff and still. Their breathing overlapped-hers calm on purpose, his a little uneven.

Moonlight slipped through the curtains and spilled onto the floor, casting pale patches over a night the two of them spent worlds apart in one bed.

The next morning, Carol woke up and found herself wrapped around Ethan like some overzealous octopus-one leg thrown over his waist, arms around his chest, face tucked into his neck.

She flushed in an instant and quickly pulled back, only to realize Ethan was already awake. He was frowning at her like he'd had enough, clearly stuck in that position for a while.

Mortified, Carol mumbled, "Uh... I sleep kind of wild. Why didn't you push me off or something?"

Ethan's voice, still rough from sleep, replied, "Tried. You wouldn't wake up."

Carol let out a sheepish laugh. "Heh... my bad..."

Then she bolted out of bed.

Right before heading out, Carol stared at herself in the mirror, steeled her nerves, and pinched her neck hard, intentionally leaving a visible red mark.

Ethan frowned at her.

She winced and said, "It's for your mom. She'll ask questions."

Ethan didn't say a word, just gave her a long, unreadable look before turning around and heading downstairs.

Sure enough, when Carol followed after him, Grace spotted the mark on her neck and instantly lit up with satisfaction. She handed Carol a bank card right then and there and gleefully encouraged her, "Keep it up! If you hit the jackpot in one go, I will be extra generous with the next gift."

Carol held the card and forcefully smiled.

When the ceremony wrapped, the two left the old house. Jack drove her to work and dropped her off at the company entrance.

She had barely stepped out of the car when a sharp-eyed coworker called out, "Whoa, is that a Rolls-Royce? Carol, don't tell me that's the rich boyfriend of yours!"

Carol shook her head.

Even thinking about Ryan made her cringe-cheating scumbag. Disgusting.

The coworker clearly didn't care about her denial. Carol always looked stunning, so changing boyfriends daily wouldn't even surprise anyone.

She leaned closer, trying to peek inside. Though the windows were tinted, the crack in the front one was just enough to make out a sharp-featured profile. She gasped. "Damn, Carol, your new husband is hot!"

Carol's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly covered her friend's mouth. "Shh! Keep it low-key, alright? This is top-secret!"

The girl nodded seriously.

But by noon, it felt like the entire design department had the scoop-Carol had not only married rich, but the guy also looked like he walked straight out of a drama.

One coworker messaged her privately: "Wait what?! Carol, you're really married? That's one hell of a secret.

"But what about Philip Walker? He's been into you since your first day. This might crush him."

Carol replied without hesitation, "I was never into him. If this makes him move on, then good."

No sooner had she sent it than Philip messaged her directly.

[You really got married?]

[Yeah.]

[Not Ryan?]

[Nope.]

[You've known how I feel for all these years. Even after you broke up, you still didn't give me a shot? Does this guy even love you?]

Carol sighed.

[Philip, you can't force love. We won't work out as a couple, but we can still be friends or coworkers.]

His answer came fast.

[No. Love doesn't work like that. From the moment I fell for you, being 'just friends' stopped being an option. You're just using this marriage excuse to turn me down, aren't you? I don't believe you're married.]

Carol could only reply, [It all happened kinda suddenly. Otherwise, I'd have sent you an invite...]

After that, Philip didn't say anything else.

Carol finally relaxed a bit, but she couldn't help thinking about Ethan.

Love shouldn't be forced.

One-sided feelings never lead to mutual happiness.

But here she was, married to a man she didn't care for-and who didn't care for her either.

It sounded crazy when she really thought about it.

And Ryan, the one she used to think loved her most, turned out to be nothing but trash.

She figured things with Philip were done and dusted, but that evening, her co-workers decided to throw a dinner party and insisted she bring her "plus one."

Carol felt a little stuck. Ethan had already said from the start he wasn't interested in being public-just the fact that he hadn't blocked her was grace enough. How could she possibly convince him to show up?

So she made an excuse: "He's super swamped at work. Maybe next time."

Philip, who had been quiet till now, suddenly spoke up with a hint of disbelief, "You sure he even exists?"

The coworker who'd seen the side profile earlier immediately argued back, "No way! I saw it with my own eyes this morning..."

Philip Walker jumped in, staring at Carol. "Then let him pick you up after dinner. The weather app says there's gonna be a storm. It's not safe for you to go home alone. Don't tell me your husband wouldn't even come get you?"

Sensing the awkward vibe in the room, the others picked up on Philip's frustration and quickly tried to change the topic.

But when the dinner ended, the rain somehow got even worse.

Philip brought it up again, and this time someone else chimed in, "Carol, just call your husband. He should come pick you up."

"Yeah, seriously. It's pouring out there. Just have him come get you," one added before lowering their voice, "Might finally make Philip give up too."

Carol glanced at the buckets of rain coming down and hesitated. Not expecting anything from it, she sent Ethan a message: [Dinner just ended. It's raining hard and cabs are impossible to get. Could you ask Jack to swing by and pick me up? The address is... ]

She didn't expect a reply-just another message lost to the void.

She was just about to hail a ride herself when her phone lit up. To her surprise, Ethan's name popped across the screen.

Startled, she answered immediately.

His voice came through calm and low, hard to read: "Come out. I'm outside."

Stunned, Carol peeked out at the restaurant entrance. Sure enough, a sleek black Bentley sat waiting beyond the rain curtain.

As everyone stepped out, Jack was already hurrying over with an umbrella.

One of the coworkers tugged Carol's sleeve, whispering excitedly, "Is that your husband? He's got serious presence! So good-looking!"

Carol shook her head. "No, not him..."

Just then, Jack reached them, gave the group a mild smile, and turned the umbrella fully toward Carol with respectful ease. "Ma'am, Mr. Mitchell has been waiting for you."

"Guess I'm heading off," Carol said, nodding goodbye to her coworkers before walking toward the car under Jack's shield.

A trail of envious and curious stares followed in her wake.

Once inside, she finally saw the man beside her in his crisp suit and blinked. "You're actually here?"

She thought Jack was just putting on a show earlier. Didn't expect Ethan himself to show.

Ethan kept his eyes ahead, side profile sharp and unreadable. "Just passing by."

Carol looked at him, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. "Oh, really? Riverton's massive. Mitchell Group's in the east, I work all the way west, and tonight's dinner was in the south. Some coincidence, huh?"

Ethan's gaze briefly flicked to her face-so full of mischief, eyes sparkling like stars. His heart gave a little jolt, but his tone stayed flat. "You caused a scene this morning. Own it."

Carol leaned in a bit, eyes twinkling. "Wow, you really are a plan-ahead kind of guy. Were you, perhaps, waiting here for me? Sounds like you care."

Ethan turned his head away, dodging her gaze. "Keep dreaming."

As she opened her mouth to fire back, a notification popped up-her phone buzzed.

It was a message from Philip: [Carol, truth be told, one of the main reasons I joined this company was for you. Now... I'm applying for a transfer. I really do hope you're happy.]

Ethan didn't even glance over, but clearly heard the buzz. He said evenly, "Sort your personal stuff out. I don't want to wake up one day and see headlines about the Mitchell Group's daughter-in-law flirting around and stirring gossip."

Carol shrugged, slipping her phone away like it was no big deal. "You're blaming me for being too charming. It's not my fault people get drawn to me."

She tilted her head, that sly smile back on her face. "Only question is, when will I charm you too?"

Ethan's Adam's apple moved slightly. He didn't respond, just stared harder out at the rain blurring the city.