"I'm fine," Noreen answered, her tone so even it sounded more like a recording than a person.

Caiden finally lifted his eyes from the magazine. His cool gaze lingered on her bare face before sliding down to the wedding ring on her finger.

For the briefest second, she thought she caught a flicker of warmth softening his sharp features—but it vanished before she could be sure.

"We're visiting my parents this afternoon," Caiden noted flatly.

An instinctive urge to refuse knotted in her chest.

She recoiled at the thought of returning home, where Caiden's mother, Ivy Evans, filled the place with a quiet, suffocating contempt.

Before she could speak, he continued in a clipped voice, "I've already told them you'll be there. Don't ruin it."

The words she'd been about to say withered on her tongue.

Lowering her gaze, she stirred the porridge again, though the thought of eating made her stomach turn.

His gaze flicked over her again, a frown creasing his brow. "What's wrong with the porridge? Don't like it?"

"It's alright," she responded lightly. "Honestly, it's the best porridge I've ever had—perfect, really."

His lips parted as if a thought hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back.

Without a word, his long, elegant fingers slid a dark green gift bag across the table. Gold lettering shimmered on the velvet surface, catching the slant of morning light.

Noreen's eyes lingered on it, recognition tightening in her chest.

That logo belonged to the jeweler the women in the Evans family adored—new collections always sent straight to their estate for private selection.

She made no move to accept it. Instead, she brushed the bag open with a light touch, revealing a dark blue velvet box nestled inside.

"Put it on this afternoon when we head back. Otherwise, people might get the wrong idea and think I don't take care of you," Caiden muttered, his tone deliberately casual, as if none of it mattered.

Noreen's fingers tightened faintly against her palm.

"Alright," she answered in a whisper so soft it nearly disappeared in the quiet room.

He finally lifted his head, his cool gaze skimming over her bare collarbone before sliding away without a flicker of warmth.

"It's nothing special," he added stiffly, almost defensive. "Just something I picked up."

A brief silence stretched between them. Then, as if feeling it wasn't enough, he went on, "I was going to toss it anyway, so I figured I might as well hand it to you."

"Mm." Noreen's quiet response carried no weight, no warmth. She nudged the bag aside with the same detachment.

Sunlight spilled through the wide picture windows, carving a pale golden line that seemed to divide the room—and them.

Caiden studied the way her lowered lashes left a faint shadow against her cheeks. For a second, his hand lifted as if to touch her face, but the motion faltered halfway. His fingers curled back, and he reached for the coffee cup instead.

"Maybe try smiling more instead of wearing that gloomy look all day. It kind of kills the mood," he murmured at last.

A light breeze slipped through the window, stirring a loose strand of hair beside Noreen's ear as he rose to leave.

Only when his footsteps disappeared at the top of the stairs did Noreen ease open the jewelry box.

Inside lay an emerald necklace, its deep green gleam catching the morning light.

The design mirrored the piece Cheryl had worn most often, though she couldn't say for sure.

The gifts Caiden handed her were always thoughtless, and this one felt no different—just some trinket he'd been ready to toss, like a leftover freebie that didn't matter to him at all.

"Oh? Isn't that necklace one of Mrs. Cheryl Evans's old pieces?" Greta's curious voice drifted from behind, soft but clear.

She had worked for the Evans family for years, always at Cheryl's side. After Noreen married into the family, Cheryl had assigned Greta to take care of her.

Noreen blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the remark. "Really?"

Leaning closer, Greta examined the emerald carefully, then nodded with quiet conviction. "I'm certain. Mrs. Cheryl Evans had two identical necklaces, both passed down to Mr. Evans."

A hint of warmth flickered over Greta's features as she began to smile. "Since he's giving you this, it means he still holds you in his heart."

With a fleeting glance toward the staircase, Noreen held her tongue and allowed Greta to carefully fasten the necklace for her.

In the late afternoon, Noreen had just slipped into fresh clothes when the door burst open without warning.

Her head snapped around instinctively, and there stood Caiden, framed by the doorway.

Her lips parted as if she meant to speak, but the words never came.

"It's time to leave. Are you ready?" Caiden pressed, his eyes settling on her with a steady weight.

She wore a misty blue dress so soft it seemed to dissolve into the pale light around her. With every small movement, the silk shimmered faintly, catching the air like water rippling under sunlight.

A delicate slit traced up one side, revealing a fleeting flash of smooth skin that made a stunning contrast with the emerald pendant resting at her neck.

The stone curved perfectly against the gentle slope of her collarbone, rising and falling in time with her measured breaths, gleaming like a tranquil lake beneath a moonlit sky.

Caiden's gaze lingered on the necklace a heartbeat too long, his expression unreadable.

"It looks good on you," he murmured, the rasp in his voice unexpectedly rough.

"Let's go." Noreen slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped through the doorway.

Caiden inclined his head slightly, every inch of him—his tailored suit, his composed posture—exactly as it had been on their wedding day three years earlier. Back then, he would've reached over to smooth a stray lock from her hair. Now, he stood deliberately apart, the two of them casting separate silhouettes across the sunlit floor.

She trailed after him at an unhurried pace, Greta's soft voice from that morning looping in her mind: "He still holds you in his heart." Yet here they were, bathed in the same light, close enough to touch but worlds away.

Tilting her chin, she caught sight of him standing with the sun blazing behind his back, his figure rimmed with gold. His expression was hidden in shadow—just as it had been for the past two years. Always on the far side of the light. Always unreachable.

Her eyes dropped to his hand hanging loosely at his side.

Those long, steady fingers had once clasped hers through burning fevers, rubbed soothing circles on her back when storms rattled the windows, and trembled when sliding the wedding band onto her finger.

Now, that same hand hung mere inches away, yet there might as well have been an ocean between them.

Noreen's fingers gave a faint, involuntary twitch, her pulse thudding so hard it echoed in her ears.

For the first time in two long years, a reckless urge surged through her—to close the distance and reach for him.

The realization made her shoulders stiffen, her breaths turning small and shallow.

Her hand began to rise, trembling slightly, but just as her fingertips hovered near Caiden's, the shrill ring of his phone split the fragile silence.

Caiden stilled. The name "Jessica" lit up the screen, and the sight struck Noreen like a blow she hadn't braced for.

Her hand froze midair before curling back toward herself, fingers knotting around the hem of her dress until the fabric creased.

The fragile courage that had flickered to life only seconds earlier collapsed, leaving a hollow ache blooming in its wake.

When Caiden answered the call, his voice carried a warmth she hadn't heard directed at her in years. The gentle lilt crushed the last trace of hope clinging to her chest.

The call was brief. Once Caiden ended it, he looked at Noreen with a composed expression that only widened the gulf between them. "Have the driver take you there," he said evenly. "I need to pick up Jessica."

Noreen didn't question why Jessica would be at the gathering; she simply inclined her head. "Alright. Go on ahead."

Caiden's gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat before he turned toward the car. Just as he reached it, her voice cut through the quiet. "Will you be back tonight?"

A faint curve tugged at his lips, barely there. "What, can't fall asleep without me around?"

Her mouth pressed into a thin line as she went on, "I have something to talk to you about."

The flicker of amusement in his eyes dimmed. "Let's save this for later."

With that, he climbed into the car and pulled away, leaving her standing in the stillness of the driveway.

...

When Noreen reached the Evans Mansion, she found Caiden and Jessica already settled inside.

Warm laughter spilled through the slightly open door, wrapping the place in an easy, familial glow. She froze on the threshold, unsure if stepping in would shatter that harmony.

With her parents gone since childhood, she had never experienced the comfort of a lively, loving household.

A quiet ache pulsed in her chest—of course she envied them.

Beneath the mellow yellow lights, Caiden leaned in, his usually cool face softened by a rare smile as he listened to Jessica.

Jessica, in a delicate yellow gown, glowed beneath that light, her every movement framed by the Evans family's easy affection.

Ivy reached over with a gentle laugh, setting another piece of food on Jessica's plate, while Caiden's father, Albert Evans, wore an unusually gentle expression.

For Noreen, the scene felt like peering through a window into a world she didn't belong to—an intimate family dinner she had no rightful place in.

"Noreen, you're here," Albert finally said, glancing up with a polite, measured smile.

Every pair of eyes turned toward her, and in an instant, the cheerful chatter dissolved into brittle silence.

Caiden straightened in his chair, the warmth still lingering on his face, but a subtle hesitation flickered through his smile the instant their eyes met.

Noreen's fingers clenched tighter around the gift bag, but she kept her expression soft, the corners of her lips lifting into a quiet, polite smile as she made her way inside.

"Sorry I took so long," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jessica perked up immediately, waving her over with unrestrained enthusiasm. "Noreen, come sit with me!"

Instead of taking the open seat, Noreen drifted toward the corner, her movements composed but distant.

Caiden's gaze flicked to her, pausing briefly on the necklace glinting against her collarbone before he looked away as if it held no meaning at all.

For Noreen, the Evans family dinner felt less like a warm gathering and more like a quiet trial.

Halfway through the evening, she slipped out quietly to breathe, the cold air outside offering a small reprieve. She hadn't gone far before Ivy followed her.

For a brief moment, Ivy's attention fixed on the necklace around Noreen's neck, something unreadable flickering through her eyes before she smoothed it away.

Suppressing a weary sigh, Ivy turned to the maid and told her to bring Noreen a shawl.

"It's chilly," she said in a calm, detached tone. "Wrap yourself up. What if you catch a cold?"

Noreen offered a faint smile. "I'll be alright. This outfit's already warm enough."

In all the years she could recall, Ivy had never shown her this kind of concern. The sudden warmth felt less like comfort and more like an omen creeping in through the cracks.

Silence pooled between them.

Ivy didn't press on, and Noreen didn't probe.

Eventually, Ivy exhaled slowly, her gaze clouded with something old and heavy. "Cheryl's been gone for two years now. In all that time, you and Caiden have hardly spent a day together. If there'd been a child between you, maybe things wouldn't have unraveled like this."

Noreen kept her head slightly lowered, listening but refusing to give her thoughts away.

"I've truly been fond of you," Ivy went on softly. "I never had a daughter of my own—only Caiden. But watching him live like this… a mother can't help but ache for her son."

Her voice dipped into a low murmur. "If Cheryl hadn't interfered back then, Caiden and Jessica would've married long ago. Their child would already be calling me Grandma by now."

"Just get to the point," Noreen responded, her tone flat. She could already guess where this was heading.

Another sigh escaped Ivy. She reached out, her palm warm and deliberate as it wrapped around Noreen's hand. "You grew up in this house. Affection grows naturally when people live together. Even if I've been hard on you, it's only because I care. No matter what happens, if you choose to, you can still think of me as a mother."

Noreen quietly pulled her hand back, slipping free of Ivy's grasp. "Sorry, but I'd rather not."

From the moment Cheryl had taken her in, Ivy had never truly accepted her.

When Cheryl's health began to decline and she spent most of the year in the hospital, Noreen had been left alone in the house with Ivy.

On those nights, dinner was often a luxury. Ivy's kindness only surfaced when Cheryl was watching.

Once she turned away, Noreen might as well have been a stray tucked in the corner.

The faint softness in Ivy's expression vanished in an instant.

She pulled out a lace-edged handkerchief and scrubbed her palms, turning them over as though Noreen's touch had left something contaminating on her skin. "You've been married for three years and still haven't had a child," she said, her tone sharpening. "Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to face that question at every social gathering?"

Her gaze slid to Noreen's abdomen, a flash of contempt passing through her eyes. "If I'd known you couldn't give me grandchildren, I wouldn't have agreed to this marriage—no matter how much Cheryl insisted."

A bitter laugh escaped Noreen's throat.

During their first year together, Caiden had insisted they enjoy their time alone, and contraception had been their silent agreement.

But after Cheryl's death, something between them shifted without warning. The distance grew so wide that they hadn't even shared a bed since. Under those conditions, how could a child possibly exist?

Yet, none of that mattered to Ivy. "If you can't have children, then we'll find someone who can," she muttered coolly, her lips curving in a faint, dismissive smile. "You and Caiden never had any real feelings to begin with. The person he loves has always been Jessica. I truly like that girl—she's gentle, thoughtful, from a respectable family. She knows how to make us proud."

Her tone turned even colder. "Pick a time to divorce Caiden. I'll make sure you walk away with a decent sum. But if you insist on being stubborn, don't blame me for doing things the hard way. We've known each other for years, and I'd rather not let this get ugly. We need a daughter-in-law who can actually shine in society."

Ivy's blunt words struck Noreen like a blade, leaving a sharp, breathless ache lodged beneath her ribs.

Her fingers curled into her palms, nails biting into flesh until the sting anchored her trembling composure.

She forced her voice steady. "Don't worry. I'll find the time..."

"Mom!" Caiden's voice cut through the air like a whip. Noreen's head snapped up, and she caught sight of him framed in the doorway, his expression carved from ice.

He closed the distance in a few swift strides, the crisp black suit on his tall frame accentuating the hard lines of his face. His gaze flicked across her pale features, cool and unreadable.

"Whose marriage is this—yours or mine?" His voice was low, edged with restrained fury.

"You..." Ivy faltered, the sudden pushback knocking the wind out of her.

A flash of anger twisted her lips as she let out a sharp, humorless sneer. "I'm doing this for your own good. Why can't you recognize what's best for you? Jessica's back now. Do you really expect her to linger around without a proper title?"