"I want to ask you something," Gian said quietly, though his voice carried an unmistakable firmness. "Who exactly were you trying to please?"

Aurelia froze. Her lips parted, but no sound came out.

Madam Lestari folded her arms even tighter across her chest. "Certainly not me, Gian," she snapped.

Silence settled over the room.

Before anyone could add another word, Gian stepped forward-slow, steady, without theatrics. His gaze cut through the tension, directed at only one person.

"I never asked you to cook," he said. "I didn't ask for anything."

Aurelia bit her lip, head dipping slightly.

But then, to her surprise, Gian picked up a cloth. He wiped the messy countertop once-calmly, without a complaint-before turning to his mother.

"She just arrived today. If a small mistake is enough to set you off like this... maybe this house is simply too harsh for anyone."

Madam Lestari stiffened. "You're defending her?"

Gian didn't answer.

He simply looked at his mother for a long, heavy moment. Then he set the cloth down and turned to leave.

His footsteps echoed across the marble floor-slow, deliberate. But right before he reached the doorway, he paused and glanced back at Aurelia.

"If you still want to try," he said softly, "start with something that won't burn the house down."

Then he walked away, leaving the air thick with a lingering, misty quiet.

Madam Lestari huffed. "See? He pities you."

Aurelia didn't respond. Embarrassment still burned on her cheeks, but somewhere beneath it, a small pocket of relief formed. Not because Gian defended her-but because he didn't condemn her either.

She looked at the mess in the kitchen. Her hands trembled slightly as she began to wipe the counter. But this time... she didn't feel entirely defeated.

That night, Aurelia returned to her room with her body aching and the faint smell of oil still clinging to her hair. She sat at the edge of the bed, staring at her own dim reflection in the window. This house was quiet. Too quiet. Yet somehow, Gian's earlier words kept echoing in her mind.

If you still want to try...

Just one sentence, but it felt like permission to breathe.

Aurelia opened her small notebook and wrote down one thing:

Learn to cook - start with scrambled eggs.

The next morning, Gian came downstairs earlier than usual. Already dressed for work-black suit, gray tie, expression unreadable-he slowed his steps as soon as he reached the dining room.

On the table lay a glass of milk. A plate of toast. And... scrambled eggs.

Not perfectly shaped. Slightly burnt at the edges. But undeniably made with effort.

Aurelia stood near the table, hands clasped behind her back, clearly nervous. She wore a simple blouse and slacks, her face bare of makeup.

"I... tried making a simple breakfast," she said quietly. "Nothing that could start a fire today."

Gian looked at her for a long moment. Then he sat down. Picked up a fork. Took a small bite of the eggs. Chewed slowly.

He didn't compliment her. He didn't complain either. But he finished everything. Even the toast that had gone slightly cold.

"Thank you," he said.

Aurelia's chest fluttered.

After Gian left, one of the maids-who had been peeking from behind a wall-gave her a small smile.

"That's the first time Mr. Gian has sat down for breakfast in a long while."

Aurelia blinked. "Really?"

The maid nodded. "He usually just grabs coffee and leaves. But today... he actually ate."

Aurelia looked at the now-empty chair at the table. Gian's expression rarely gave anything away, but this morning... something small, fragile, had shifted.

This house still felt like a labyrinth of cold hallways and untouchable secrets. But for a moment, one of its doors had cracked open.

Night fell by the time Aurelia closed her bedroom door. The day had stretched endlessly. She still knew little about Gian, this house, or her place within it. But today-for the first time-she felt her presence wasn't completely invisible.

She sat on the edge of the bed, eyes tracing the soft glow of the chandelier above. Then she opened the window. The night breeze slipped in, carrying the faint scent of the afternoon rain.

Her gaze drifted downward-to the dim backyard.

Gian stood there. Alone. Near a small gazebo lit by a weak lamp. His head was slightly tilted back, as if searching the sky for something he couldn't quite reach. His suit jacket was gone; he wore only a white dress shirt and dark pants. The soft light caught half his face-and for a heartbeat, Aurelia saw something she'd never seen before.

Not anger. Not authority.

But... emptiness.

And when Gian slowly turned his head toward the second-floor window-toward her-their eyes met. Not for long. Not enough to call it a stare. But enough to make Aurelia's heart seize.

Because in those eyes, she didn't just see coldness.

She saw a wound.

She didn't know what time it was when she drifted into sleep again. The world outside was still dark. But the vibration of a notification jolted her awake. The rain had stopped hours ago, leaving a thin layer of mist on the glass.

Aurelia rubbed her eyes and reached for her phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up, displaying a single email:

[Re-Registration Schedule for New Graduate Students – Faculty of Psychology, University-]

Her fingers froze. Her breath hitched.

She had forgotten something very important.

"Typical gold-digger!"

That was the first thing that flew out of Mrs. Lestari's mouth this morning. Her tone was sharp-cutting, like a whip cracking across bare skin. The usually quiet house was now heavy with tension.

Aurelia stayed silent. Her head bowed, her eyes fixed on the floor. She knew those words weren't just an angry outburst, but a judgment she had feared long before this moment.

"Graduate school? A master's degree? You've barely been in this house and you already want to continue your studies? What's next, huh? A car? An apartment? A vacation overseas?"

Mrs. Lestari's voice rose, and the maid-who had been carrying tea-quickly backed out of the dining room. Gian sat at the far end of the table, staring into his cup. He didn't say a single word.

"I'm not asking for anything except permission, Ma'am," Aurelia replied softly, barely audible. "I just want to chase my dream. I was accepted even before this marriage happened."

"Oh, of course! Exactly what I expected. You accepted this marriage to smooth out your little plans. You marry Gian, then ride on the Alvaro name!"

Aurelia bit her lip. Her eyes burned, but she refused to let tears fall.

"I never intended to take advantage of anyone," she whispered.

"Nonsense! You think I'm stupid? You planned all of this, didn't you? A girl from a messed-up family who suddenly gets lucky enough to enter this household. And now you want to go to school-using whose money? Your husband's? The Alvaro family's?!"

Mrs. Lestari shot a glance at her son.

"Gian, look! This is what your impulsive decision got us. I regret that you married her! I regret having her as my daughter-in-law!"

Gian didn't respond. But his shoulders tightened.

He remained silent, fingers wrapped around a small spoon he never used. His eyes stayed fixed on his now-cold drink.

Mrs. Lestari abruptly stood from her chair.

"That's it. My head is throbbing. I'm leaving. A social gathering is far better than listening to a manipulative woman like you whining about wanting an education."

Her footsteps echoed on the marble floor. Moments later, the front door slammed shut. Silence fell over the dining room, leaving only two people-husband and wife, who barely even knew each other.

Aurelia stayed by the table. Her eyes were red, but dry. She took a deep breath and slowly moved her chair closer toward Gian.

"I don't want to argue. But I won't give up on my dream just because someone thinks I'm greedy," she said.

Gian finally looked up. His gaze was flat, but not empty. Something flickered beneath the surface.

"I'm willing to work hard in this house. I can clean, tidy the rooms, mop the floors, do the laundry. I'm even learning how to cook," Aurelia continued. "I don't want to live off anyone's pity. I just want... a chance. Please."

Still no response. Gian only stared at her, unreadable.

Aurelia exhaled shakily.

"I'll take care of this entire house without the maids. I'll wake up early, sweep the yard, wash the clothes-whatever it takes, as long as I can continue my studies."

Gian straightened in his seat and stood. But he didn't say a word. He simply walked toward his study.

Aurelia followed, stopping only when the cold, distant man shut the door firmly in her face.

By late afternoon, she was standing at the doorway of his study-lined with bookshelves and warm lighting-watching her husband's broad back. Solid. Unreadable. Like a wall she still couldn't break. She smiled faintly when she noticed he hadn't locked the room this time.

"Gian... I mean it. I'll do anything."

He halted near his desk, not turning around. His shoulders stiffened, matching the tension in the hand gripping a folded letter-contents unknown.

"Anything," Aurelia repeated. "Give me a condition. Any condition."

When he finally turned, Gian no longer looked expressionless.

Something stormed behind his eyes. Not anger, not disappointment-something more tangled, laced with shock he didn't voice. His jaw clenched so tightly the muscle stood out. A vein in his neck pulsed, as if he were holding back something on the verge of breaking loose.

His face flushed-not in embarrassment, but like someone battling his own rising turmoil.

Aurelia froze. The air between them grew heavy, thick with an invisible, suffocating tension. The ticking clock on the wall suddenly sounded unbearably loud.

Then, with slow but deliberate steps, Gian moved closer. His stare cut through her, as if trying to look past her words and into the truth hidden beneath them.

They were only inches apart now. And from that tightly clenched jaw, he finally spoke-quiet, flat, but hitting straight to her core.

"You're sure you'll do anything?"

Aurelia nodded quickly, her lashes trembling. That small gesture alone made Gian smile-one with meaning she couldn't yet decipher.

Gian moved toward Aurelia slowly, almost soundless, closing the small distance between them. His warm breath brushed her face, and it felt like the room itself was shrinking around them.

Aurelia swallowed hard. Her body went stiff, her instincts firing off warnings.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked softly, her voice trembling. It barely rose above the tension hanging thick between them.

Gian lifted an eyebrow, his lips curling slightly. "Be my wife... completely."

Aurelia frowned. "I... I am your wife."

He shook his head lightly, quick, as if mocking the logic she'd just spoken. "I want proof. And help."

"H-help with what?"

His gaze dropped, sharp and intense. "Make me feel confident again. Bring back my desire."

Aurelia froze. Her breath hitched. Words nearly slipped away from her. "I... I'm not a doctor, Gian. So-"

"You're my wife. Your job is to make me feel like a man again."

In an instant, Gian leaned even closer. Aurelia's heart thrashed against her ribs. But before their breaths could fully collide, a phone rang, slicing through the moment. Gian exhaled sharply, grabbing the phone from his pocket.

Before answering, he looked straight into Aurelia's eyes and said, "I'll cover your tuition. Not a single cent from the Alvaro family. So think carefully... before I change my mind."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Aurelia with a tight chest and a storm in her head.

That night, dinner was served earlier than usual. Only two chairs were occupied at the long dining table that was normally quiet. Mrs. Lestari was still out at her social gathering. It was just the two of them.

They ate in silence. Only the soft clinks of silverware filled the air. Aurelia stole glances at Gian now and then, trying to read the mind that always seemed locked shut.

When dinner was nearly finished, Aurelia gathered her courage. She went back to her room, grabbed her phone, and opened a loan app. She filled in her information, hoping-desperately-that she could find another way to pay for college without relying on Gian.

But the screen displayed a single message:

"Your ID cannot be processed. Status linked to the Alvaro family entity. Loan access denied."

Aurelia froze. Her hands shook. She tried another app. Same result. All of them declined her-even for the smallest loan.

She walked back to the dining room. Gian was still seated, sipping tea. Aurelia glared at him.

"You know what? I can't borrow a single penny. Because all my access is blocked. Because of your last name!"

Gian shrugged. "You won't get a loan anywhere. Your access is limited. I'm the only hope you've got."

Aurelia scoffed. "You're impossible. Taking advantage. Manipulative. Cold! You're such a jerk!"

Gian looked at her calmly. "We're a married couple. What's wrong with that?"

Aurelia fell silent. But inside, everything was in chaos.

She swallowed again. Her heart pounded so fast it felt like it might explode. Part of her wanted to argue, scream, insist that their marriage wasn't love, wasn't her choice. But deep down... he wasn't wrong. They were married. Legally documented. On paper, Gian was her husband. She couldn't deny it.

"What's wrong is the way you say it," Aurelia whispered, her voice shaking. "You talk like... I belong to you. Like I'm something you can use whenever you want."

Gian raised an eyebrow over the rim of his glass.

"You think I don't feel like I've been used too?" he replied calmly. "I didn't ask for this marriage either. But here we are. So we play our parts. You want college. I want something in return. Isn't that fair?"

Aurelia's stomach churned at the word "return." She wasn't an object. But she also had almost no options left.

"If you want us to play parts," she said softly, "then we should respect each other. Not pressure each other."

Gian didn't answer. A faint smile tugged at his lips-not mocking, but almost... intrigued. As if Aurelia had just revealed a side he'd never noticed before.

Late that night, Aurelia returned to her room. She stared at her reflection in the big mirror near the wardrobe. Her eyes looked dull. Her head was crowded with thoughts she couldn't even begin to voice.

She opened the desk drawer, pulled out the college brochure she had secretly kept since before the wedding. Her fingers brushed the glossy paper as if trying to absorb the hope printed on it. She wasn't giving up. She couldn't.

The next morning, she woke early. She made breakfast: boiled eggs, toasted whole-wheat bread, a glass of orange juice. She didn't want another kitchen disaster. This time she followed every step from the cooking video she'd watched in secret the night before.

When Gian came downstairs, the table was already set neatly. He paused, looking at the breakfast, then at her.

"Not afraid you'll burn down the kitchen again?" he asked flatly, though there was a faint teasing note in his voice.

"I learned," Aurelia said. "Isn't that one of the requirements to be your wife?"

Gian sat. He picked up the spoon and tried the juice first.

"Not bad," he said simply. "Though the juice is too sweet. But... it'll do."

Aurelia felt a small warmth bloom in her chest. But she knew this wasn't enough to change him. This was a tiny step. Very tiny.

The following days settled into a strange rhythm. Gian wasn't as cold anymore, but he wasn't exactly warm either. Sometimes he came home late. Sometimes he only nodded when Aurelia spoke. But he ate every breakfast she made. And that little bit was enough to keep her going.

But whenever college came up, Gian responded with the same vague line:

"We'll see."

"Please, Gian. The deadline is the day after tomorrow. I'll do anything as long as it's not... that condition," Aurelia pleaded.

But Gian always said, "That's my only condition."

Until one evening, everything changed.

Gian came home early. His face looked tired, his tie loose, his hair slightly messy. Aurelia was in the living room watching TV alone. When she saw him enter, she stood, ready to make him tea.

"Wait," Gian said, stopping her.

Aurelia turned. "Yes?"

He exhaled and walked closer. "I already transferred your college registration payment. You can go confirm it tomorrow."

Aurelia froze.

"But... I haven't agreed to-"

"I told you I'd cover it. Without using the family's money. And I kept my word."

Aurelia stood there, stunned. Her hand curled into a small fist, her eyes growing glossy.

"Thank you..." she whispered.

"Don't thank me yet," Gian replied. "Because I want you to prove something."

"What is it?"

"That you're not just some reckless girl chasing a dream. But..."