"Wife? Are you kidding me?"

Michael's eyes widened in disbelief, like someone had just punched him straight in the chest. It hurt. Bad.

He stared dazedly at Emma, who had been standing close to him just a second ago until Ethan stepped in and yanked her away, jaw tight, tension written all over his face.

"What, do we need your permission to get married now?" Ethan shot him a sarcastic smirk, not even bothering to check Michael's reaction before turning on his heel, dragging Emma along.

Emma barely had time to react when she felt a strong grip on her wrist, and the next second, she was being pulled out, stumbling as she tried to keep up.

Once they were outside the main hall, Ethan finally snapped. The anger he'd been holding in erupted, his voice sharp and laced with mockery. "Seriously, did Matthew never teach you manners? You're my wife now. Start acting like it. Don't embarrass the Hunt family."

Emma slowly lifted her head, only to meet a cold, disdainful glare from him. She laughed bitterly to herself.

Emma, are you really still holding onto the hope that you matter to this man?

She forced a smile, nodded lightly, and said, "Fine," her tone empty and weightless. She didn't spare him another glance, missing the brief flicker of conflict in his eyes when he caught her smile.

That one word made Ethan oddly uncomfortable, especially seeing how calm and unfazed she looked while he was an emotional mess. Something about that bothered him more than it should have.

"I don't care how you wormed your way in here, but don't show your face at places like this again." He tossed the words at her like they were nothing, straightening his cuffs and turning to leave.

"Why?" Emma blurted out, unable to stop herself. She looked up at his sharp profile, needing an answer.

Like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard, Ethan turned back, stared at her face for a solid second, then said, slowly and deliberately, "Because you. Don't. Deserve to be."

And just like that, he was gone.

"I don't deserve to be?" Emma echoed the words under her breath, her heart sinking like a stone.

It hadn't even been a week since she last heard those same, crushing words from him.

Big, silent tears rolled down her cheeks and hit the polished floor with soft little splashes. She covered her chest with one hand, mouth parted as memories of everything she'd ever shared with Ethan started playing on a loop in her mind.

And she realized, painfully, it had always been one-sided.

When she finally looked up again, her tears had dried.

Sometimes, when the hurt runs deep enough, you can't cry anymore, even if you wanted to.

...

Three days later, in the Hunts' mansion-second floor bedroom.

"Bzz-bzz-"

The soft buzz of a text woke Emma up from her sleep.

Rubbing her temples to ease the dull ache, she glanced at the bedside clock. It was already 8:30 AM.

Emma casually glanced at her phone-it was just another boring weather alert. She sat up from bed, tossed the phone aside, and slowly made her way downstairs, feet dragging.

Ethan hadn't been back home these past few days-not surprising. Honestly, Emma thought it might be better this way, less awkward for both of them.

She yawned and didn't notice the floor was still damp from the cleaning. As her soft slippers slid to one side, a sharp pain shot up from her ankle the next second.

"Ow-"

She gasped, leaning against the wall, carefully lifting her foot without daring to move it again.

She tried rotating her ankle just a little, but the searing pain nearly made her stop breathing. Left with no choice, she gritted her teeth, clung to the wall, and slowly shuffled toward the nearest room, the study.

At the top of the stairs, a set of steady footsteps echoed, and a tall figure appeared on the second floor. Emma didn't notice.

...

9 a.m.

At the corporate tower's top floor, inside the CEO's office of Hunt Group.

There was a meeting at 10. Ethan flipped through the folders on the desk and suddenly realized a document he needed was still at the house.

He rubbed his temples, then picked up the phone. He was about to ask Andy to grab the missing file from home, but for some reason, before his finger hit the call button, a face flashed in his mind-that woman, with tear-filled eyes after he'd spoken those cutting words to her.

The phone never got dialed. Instead, as if on impulse, Ethan drove back to the house himself.

When he walked through the door and saw how empty the place was, that strange flicker of anticipation in his heart vanished instantly.

She should've gone to work by now.

With that thought, he tossed his keys on the shoe cabinet and headed upstairs straight to the study.

But once at the door, he noticed it was halfway open-his brows immediately furrowed.

Didn't he tell the staff not to enter the study when he wasn't home? Someone clearly didn't listen.

Hand on the handle, Ethan pushed the door open, only to find Emma sitting on the sofa, her back to him.

"What are you doing here?" He realized the moment he said it-that came out all wrong.

"Sorry," Emma said softly, knowing he hated people being in his study without permission. She hadn't expected him to suddenly come back, and now with her messy hair and no makeup, she quickly dropped her gaze and tried to stand.

But she completely forgot about her ankle. The second she put weight on it, her leg gave out, and she collapsed back onto the sofa.

"Ah-"

The sound of pain made Ethan freeze. When he glanced down, his eyes locked onto the red, swollen ankle and her tightly drawn brows.

"You twisted it? Why didn't you call a doctor?" His brows drew in sharply as he set his phone aside and strode over, suddenly scooping her up in his arms.

Emma let out a startled yelp, instinctively grabbing his neck for balance. "What are you doing?"

"Taking you to the doctor, what else do you think I'm doing?" Ethan shot her a sideways glance, a slight sarcastic smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Emma opened her mouth, but no words came out. Seeing the blank expression on his face that hovered somewhere between a smile and a sneer, she figured there wasn't much point in saying anything.

Her silence didn't sit right with Ethan for some reason. He carried her back to the bedroom, put her down gently, and pressed the button on the landline.

"Jacob, get the family doctor up here."

After hanging up, he turned and found her quietly rubbing her ankle, staring at the floor without saying a word.

"How'd this even happen?"

His voice had a faint bite to it, and for a second, Emma thought she'd imagined the concern in it.

Was... was he actually worried?

"I twisted it walking out of the room. Didn't really notice at first," she replied, her tone softer as she slowed her motions. Just then, Jacob arrived at the door with Dr. Ramos.

"Mr. Hunt," Dr. Ramos greeted him with a nod, followed by a nurse carrying a medical kit.

"Check her ankle."

"Of course."

Even before Ethan gave the order, Dr. Ramos's eyes had already gone to Emma's swollen red ankle. He squatted down, pressing gently on the tender area. The sharp inhale from Emma was immediate.

"Ma'am, could you try rotating your ankle a bit?"

Emma did as asked, but the motion only made the pain worse.

After watching her struggle with the movement, Dr. Ramos stood upright and faced Ethan with professionalism.

"It's a simple sprain. No damage to the bones or ligaments. Use an ice pack wrapped in a towel for the first couple of days, then switch to warm compresses. It should heal on its own in less than a week."

Ethan gave a small nod. "Jacob, show them out." Then he left the room as well.

As he walked away, Emma let out a breath and gave a half-smile, one filled with helplessness.

She should've known. Any kindness he showed her always came with that air of detachment. Just scraps.

But the moment she saw the towel and ice in his hands, her thoughts hit pause.

"What are you doing? Sit back down," Ethan said firmly when he noticed her trying to get up. Dropping the towel and ice beside him, he gently pushed her shoulders down to stop her.

"Lift your leg," he instructed, motioning towards the small padded bench beside the bed.

"Huh? Oh, okay..."

Emma, totally thrown off by his unexpected care, dazedly followed his instructions and propped her foot on the bench. A chill crept over her skin almost instantly.

Looking down, she saw him leaning over, carefully placing the cold towel on her ankle, his expression calm and focused.

That one small act-so deliberate, so gentle-it felt like he'd thrown a pebble into the still water of her heart, rippling straight through her.

He was actually icing her ankle himself.

She couldn't even begin to explain what she was feeling right now. All those thoughts of letting go that she'd worked so hard to build... crumbled completely under this unexpected tenderness.

"So, still hurts?" Ethan asked quietly.

While gently pressing the ice against her ankle, Ethan casually spoke up like it was habit. But when he looked up, he found Emma staring at him with bright, hopeful eyes.

"Ahem."

Right then, it hit him-just how intimate what he was doing looked.

He quickly dropped the towel from his hand, not even caring that the ice cubes scattered across the floor, and stood up, clearing his throat like it'd cover up the awkwardness.

What the hell was wrong with him today? He actually did all that, and it felt kind of natural.

Since he could remember, only one person had ever made him act like this-Lily.

The longer he looked at Emma's sparkly eyes, the more flustered he felt, a kind of panic creeping up on him that he didn't know how to handle.

"Don't overthink it. I just don't want people knowing that the Hunt family's daughter-in-law can't do anything but embarrass herself."

Throwing those words behind him, Ethan turned and walked straight out of the bedroom without so much as a glance.

The moment his words hit, the sparkle in Emma's eyes slowly faded.

She looked down at the towel tossed on the ground and the melting ice scattered around-and that little warmth she'd felt seconds ago went cold, just like that.

So yeah... she was mistaken again.

...

A week later.

7 p.m.

Daisy Design Co.

"Emma, don't stay too late, alright?"

Stepping out of his office, Manager Lee saw Emma still working intently at her desk.

"Got it, Amy."

She'd taken three days off because of her foot, which had set her back a bit. So, she'd been squeezing in extra hours to catch up. Now she was finally down to the last piece of her design.

"And... done!"

Finishing the final line, Emma leaned back with a big stretch, relief written all over her face.

She saved her draft to her hard drive, grabbed her bag, and finally left the office.

It wasn't until she stepped outside that she realized the sky had already gone dark.

"Pretty sure the buses stopped running by now..." she muttered, walking along the roadside, eyes scanning for an empty cab.

Then came the blaring of a car horn behind her. A sleek, silver Maybach pulled up right next to where she was standing.

Emma paused, frowning slightly as she glanced at the car. When the window slowly rolled down, a face she knew all too well appeared.

"Michael? What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised and a little puzzled.

She was sure the Owens Group was based on the west side of the city-here was the east side.

"Had some errands to run over here. Didn't expect to run into you, though," he said, stepping out of the car with that polished smile of his.

"Ah, my office is just over there," Emma replied, chuckling lightly as her guard dropped a bit.

"So, done for the day then? Need a ride home? Not easy to find a cab around here at this hour."

As he spoke, Michael casually watched her reactions, taking in every subtle change in her expression.

After that gala night, Michael had someone look her up. That's when he found out her marriage to Ethan was just business, with barely any love between them.

Which was exactly why he showed up now-no need to hold back anymore.

"Uhm..." Before Emma could come up with an excuse to decline, Michael had already circled around to the other side, pulled open the door, and stood there waiting for her to hop in.

Seeing how polite he was and thinking back to the good impression he'd left, Emma smiled and nodded.

"Alright then, I'll take the ride. Thanks."

Michael chuckled softly, the corners of his mouth lifting. "No trouble at all. I'm happy to."

As the car eased into motion, Michael turned on the stereo. A familiar tune floated out from the speakers.

"Is this...the theme song from that love story movie?"

Emma asked all of a sudden.

"Yeah, it is. You like it?" He tilted his head slightly, his deep gaze landing on her face.

Emma nodded gently, kind of surprised that Michael liked this kind of soft, slightly melancholic piano piece. That little bit of distance she'd been keeping faded away.

"Yeah, I really like it."

Michael noticed the subtle shift in her mood and couldn't help showing a faint smile.

He'd done his homework-it's not like he didn't know that before Emma got married, she loved nothing more than piano and live concerts.

And now, he was just using this shared interest to close the gap between them a little more.

"I remember meeting Mr. Grace once. He told me that his daughter wasn't into finance or business stuff-more into music and plants. Looks like he was right."

Michael tapped his fingers lightly on the steering wheel as he teased her.

Emma blushed a bit, not expecting her dad to say something like that in front of others.

"Yeah... those contracts and papers bore me to death. You must think it's silly."

If she'd taken an interest, Matthew probably wouldn't have been in such a rush to find a competent son-in-law.

Too bad she ended up marrying someone completely different from what her father wanted.

The thought made her a bit down for a moment.

Sensing the change, Michael relaxed his foot on the gas and casually tugged at his collar.

"I think the last time I saw you was at a design event, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, I work at a design company-mainly do jewelry design."

The shift in topic snapped Emma back into the conversation and to a subject she was comfortable with.

"Jewelry design? That actually sounds really cool."

Michael glanced at her pale, elegant side profile and the smile on his face deepened.

"It's not as fancy as you think. Nothing like your field. Every time I have to hand in a draft, it's a struggle."

"A struggle? You don't strike me as someone who'd have trouble with design. I mean, you wouldn't have been at that event if you didn't have the skills."

His calm tone carried a sort of quiet confidence. Emma glanced at him a few times, feeling surprised.

She figured Michael would be like Ethan, assuming she only got invited to that kind of event because of her family connections.

Noticing that Emma had glanced his way a few times, Michael tilted his head slightly and asked, "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"No... I'm just a bit surprised, that's all."

Emma turned her head and sat up straighter, eyes quietly fixed on the road ahead.

Seeing her reaction, Michael dropped the topic and didn't press further. Not long after, the car rolled up to the entrance of the villa complex.

A soft female voice rang out as the license plate scanner scanned and approved the car:

"Ding-You may proceed."

Hearing that, Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You live here too?"

"Nope, just own a house here," Michael replied with a chuckle, catching the look on her face. Then he casually asked, "Which unit is yours?"

"Block B, number 6." The address slipped out before she could stop herself. Emma had thought about getting off at the entrance, but this community was ridiculously huge-and her unit just happened to be halfway up the mountain, in the farthest zone.

She lifted her eyes to the dark night, with only the faint glow of scattered streetlights.

If she got off here, she'd probably get completely turned around in the dark.

"Oh right, I've actually got a small favor to ask. Don't know if you've got time these days."

Out of the blue, Michael brought it up.

"My cousin's birthday is in a couple of months. I want to get her a necklace, but everything out there feels kind of generic. Do you think you could design one for her?"

Emma was about to respond when Michael added, "If it works for you, I'll place an order through your company under my name. It won't interfere with your job that way."

With him putting it like that, and considering all the times he'd helped her in the past, Emma found it hard to say no-plus, it was for his cousin.

"Sure, but I'll need to know at least a few of her preferences. That'll help with the design."

Michael knew then that his little plan was working.

"She loves bunnies," he added with a small smile. "And she's really into pink."

He gave a brief rundown just as the car slowed to a stop.

Emma had already unbuckled her seatbelt and was getting ready to open the door when Michael had already walked around and opened it for her.

"Oh, thanks." Caught off guard by the thoughtful gesture, a soft smile crept across her lips as she said it.

That smile, and everything else, was caught by someone standing further back.

After finishing up a late meeting, Ethan had driven home, only to find that Emma still wasn't back yet.

An hour passed and he couldn't sit still anymore. Grabbing his keys, he drove out, only to catch sight of his wife stepping out of a sleek sports car, with a relaxed smile on her face... a smile he'd never seen on her before.

That smile was warm and bright-so much that it stung his eyes.

His hand, clutching the car keys, unconsciously tightened. For some reason, something hit him hard in the chest, sending a dull ache spreading outward.

She had never smiled like that at him.

...

Hunt family villa.

"You're back."

After chatting a little with Michael about the necklace design, Emma walked through the door, only to see the man who had barely stepped foot in the house these past few days, now sitting on the sofa, face clouded with gloom.