"Hello?" Sophia answered the phone, trying to sound calm, though a slight hitch in her voice betrayed her.

"Are you okay?" Ethan's voice was low and steady as always-impossible to read.

"Mild concussion and some cuts from glass. It's all been taken care of," she answered factually.

"Sorry."

Just one word-polite, distant. It landed like a pin in her heart. Since when did "sorry" become the default between husband and wife? In the past six months, they had treated each other with courtesy, never raising their voices. She had once mistaken that for harmony. Now she realized-it was the vast distance between them in disguise.

"You didn't come home last night?"

"Mm. Overtime," he said briefly, offering no further explanation.

She was used to it. Ethan's world was full of endless projects and social obligations. "There's a company dinner tonight. Want to come?"

The silence that followed was entirely expected. She could picture him now-probably with one hand braced against the desk, brows furrowed, thinking of a tactful way to say no.

As expected.

"I have an important dinner meeting tonight."

"Got it." She hung up, unsurprised. They rarely interfered with each other's social lives or work.

That evening, the team dinner was held at an upscale restaurant. Everyone came in pairs-she was the only one alone.

After using the restroom, her phone rang. It was Lily Carter.

"Babe, I've got a date tomorrow!"

"Oh? Who's the lucky man this time?" Sophia leaned against the hallway wall, her voice tinged with a tired smile.

Sophia had always envied Lily. Lily believed in love sparked by chemistry and spiritual connection. She idealized that slow-burning, Platonic kind of romance-something that felt like fiction to Sophia, who had rushed into marriage for the sake of "compatibility."

Sophia and Ethan had met during a sudden downpour. He didn't have an umbrella, and she had nowhere to go. A week later, they registered their marriage. There was no grand wedding, no romantic proposal, not even deep understanding-just two adults who thought the other seemed "good enough."

They hadn't married for love. Peace at home was a blessing already. She told herself she shouldn't expect more.

After chatting with Lily for a bit, Sophia returned to the table. Everyone was already seated.

"Where's your mysterious husband, Sophia?" Emily Parker, arm-in-arm with her boyfriend, asked with teasing curiosity.

"He's got an important dinner tonight," Sophia replied with a smile, then lowered her head, pretending to study the menu, desperately wishing the evening would end.

At some point, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. Her luck was awful-she lost several rounds. This time, the punishment was: go to the private room next door and confess your love to a man.

Amid the rowdy cheers, she pushed open the door.

Inside were several well-dressed men. She froze, at a loss for what to do-until her eyes met a pair of familiar, deep-set ones in the corner.

Ethan.

He wore a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled casually above his elbows, languidly leaning back in his chair with a glass of red wine in hand. He was watching her quietly.

So this was the "important dinner meeting."

"Hey, beautiful! Confess to me!" A handsome, roguish-looking man waved at her, his smile full of mischief.

Sophia quickly took a step back, avoiding his outstretched hand, her voice cold. "It's just a game. No need to take it seriously."

Thankfully, Noah Hughes rushed in, placing himself in front of her and whisking her away.

The dinner ended awkwardly. As she stepped out of the restaurant, she saw Ethan's car waiting at the entrance. He rolled down the window, his eyes calm as he looked at her.

She got in the passenger seat, her expression stubborn.

He leaned over, his familiar clean scent enveloping her as he gently fastened her seatbelt. His movements were elegant and unhurried. Then, his warm lips brushed hers in a kiss-light as a feather.

"Does it hurt?" he asked gently, brushing back her bangs to check the scab on her forehead. His touch was tender, his eyes full of the concern she knew so well.

"It doesn't hurt anymore after you kissed it," she whispered, not realizing the note of dependence in her voice. His gentleness had a way of melting her defenses.

"Fool." He chuckled softly and pulled her into his arms.

Resting against his firm chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, all her earlier doubts and unhappiness seemed to fade in his warm embrace.

But just as he pulled her slightly closer, as if to offer more comfort, a scent suddenly hit her-an unfamiliar, rich perfume, distinctly feminine, and completely at odds with his usual crisp cologne.

Her body stiffened slightly.

Nowhere in their marriage agreement had it said she needed to get used to another woman's scent on her husband.

The following week, Ethan surprised her by coming home every night-on time. He even cooked.

"My mother said protein helps wounds heal," he said as he placed a perfectly pan-seared cod fillet in front of her.

"She's sweet. Please thank her for me."

"I'm sweeter." He picked her up and sat her on his lap.

He often brushed back her bangs to check on her healing scar, touching her with such care it felt sacred.

Sophia rested in his arms, basking in the warmth. The doubts and insecurities from before seemed to melt away in this week of tenderness. They'd only been married six months. Rushing things naturally led to a lack of trust. She should give him more time-and herself more patience.

She scheduled a follow-up at the hospital for the weekend. Ethan offered to go with her, but she refused. She didn't like clinging to him unnecessarily. If she could handle something alone, she always would.

Last night, he had been working late in the study. Sophia had planned to gently persuade him to get some rest. When she tiptoed in, she found Ethan staring blankly at his laptop, clearly troubled.

It was rare to see the usually composed and collected Ethan looking so anxious. She softly knocked on the door to get his attention.

When he saw her enter, Ethan quickly closed the laptop, replacing his worried look with a faint smile. "Still awake?" he asked gently.

"Mm." She wished she could help solve his troubles-just listening would be enough. But in six months of marriage, they had never really opened up to each other.

She knew nothing about Ethan's past. And he seemed uninterested in hers.

"Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

"I can't sleep without you."

He smirked knowingly, lifting her onto the desk-then came a flurry of kisses.

It seemed only in this way did they shed all masks and give themselves completely.

The next morning, she accidentally spotted the gold-embossed business card Lucas had given her. Without hesitation, she tossed it in the trash.

The check-up went smoothly. She was in a great mood. But when she got home, Ethan wasn't there.

Something led her into his study. His laptop was open.

She tried a few simple passwords she knew. All wrong. Then, she typed in their wedding date.

The screen unlocked.

She froze. That she hadn't expected.

The desktop was clean. But in the corner was a thumbnail of a photo. She clicked it.

The woman in the picture had waist-length hair, teary eyes, and wore a white slip dress. A stark white bandage wrapped around her delicate arm. The lighting, the angle, the expression-it was perfect, portraying the ideal image of vulnerability and allure.

It wasn't her. Nor was it anyone Ethan had ever mentioned.

She slammed the laptop shut like it had burned her. Then, she called Ethan.

The line rang and rang. Every beep pierced her nerves.

"Hello?" he finally answered. The background was noisy.

She forced her voice to sound casual. "My hardworking husband working on the weekend-I just wanted to check in."

"Did you go to the hospital?"

"Yeah, the doctor said it's nothing serious." She paused and tilted her head. "You sound like you're at a hospital?"

She distinctly heard the announcement system in the background.

There was a beat of silence. Then he said calmly, "Yeah. At the hospital."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. A friend got injured."

"Male or female?"

"Female," he answered without hesitation.

Sophia couldn't speak. If she asked one more question, the paper-thin illusion of harmony between them would tear.

"Well, enjoy taking care of your lady friend. Your wife's tired-going to nap." She tried to sound lazy and indifferent.

Just as she was about to hang up, his voice came through-low, amused. "Are you wearing anything?"

".What?" she blinked, then blushed furiously, shouting into the phone, "No!"

"Hm." His voice dipped, magnetic and teasing. "I'll handle you when I get back."

Call ended.

Sophia held the phone, somewhere between laughter and tears. The photo she'd seen and the casual, flirty conversation tangled in her mind. Maybe. she was overthinking. Maybe the woman really was just a friend.

She shut the laptop and climbed into bed, forcing herself to sleep.

She slept deeply. So deeply, she didn't stir until his cool hand slid under the covers, lighting fires across her skin.

"No." she murmured, half-asleep, pushing at his wandering hands.

"Liar," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.

"Lied about what?" she mumbled, still dazed.

"You said you weren't wearing anything." He chuckled lowly, then kissed her deeply, silencing any protest.

Froze for a second, then she clung to him, responding to his every move. In this primal connection, she felt it-he was her husband. They were one.

She tried to ignore the smudge of lipstick on his collar. But any woman would spot that-who could pretend otherwise?

Sophia woke up groggily the next morning, reaching out instinctively-but the bed beside her was already cold. She was about to sit up when her phone rang. The caller ID showed a number she would rather delete but couldn't.

"Sophia. your father. he's got alcohol poisoning. He's still in the hospital. You know we don't have much."

"I know." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, suppressing the frustration and helplessness in her chest. "I'll transfer ten thousand to you in the next couple of days."

She probably should've asked how her father was doing, whether it was serious. But the words died on her tongue. For the man who had dragged her into hardship again and again, financial support was the most she could offer.

But ten thousand wasn't a small sum. Before their marriage, she and Ethan had signed a prenup-household expenses were split fifty-fifty. Pulling out that much money all of a sudden wasn't easy.

Ask Ethan?

Even if she could swallow her pride, the smudge of lipstick on his collar last night made it impossible to humble herself like that.

Distracted, she arrived at work, only to be summoned to the office by Henry Collins, her manager.

"The client from last time-they're willing to give us another shot. Are you in or not?"

Just as she'd hoped-when one door closes, another opens. Sophia's face lit up instantly. "Of course I'm in! Definitely. But."

"But what?" Henry narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to continue.

Sophia hesitated, remembering how inappropriate the client had been last time. The thought made her uneasy. Henry seemed to catch her hesitation and gave a dry chuckle. "Don't worry. That was the marketing manager from Brighten Group last time. This time, it's the top boss himself."

He couldn't hide the pride in his voice. A company like Brighten Group-one of the top-tier corporations in the country-was already a big deal to work with. But for the CEO to come to the table personally? That said everything about how seriously they were taking this deal.

"Well? Why are you still standing there?" Henry snapped out of his smugness and noticed Sophia was still rooted to the spot, clearly conflicted.

The weight of her father's medical bills pressed heavily on her. "I'll go. But." she met Henry's eyes, voice steady, "if I close this deal, can I get a one percent cut from the commission?"

Henry narrowed his eyes, clearly surprised. "Well, look who's learning to negotiate. Don't worry-I haven't forgotten about your year-end raise."

"Just this once. I really need the money." He finally waved her off in agreement.

Back at her desk, Isabella Lane leaned over with a juicy piece of gossip. "Guess what? The only reason we're even in the running for Brighten's advertising project is because our company is about to be acquired! Otherwise, why would a giant like Brighten work with a small agency like ours? And the company that's buying us? It's SUN!"

Sophia's head shot up. "What did you say?"

"Scared, huh? Yes, the SUN. THE SUN-king of the ad world! Oh, and remember that guy you bumped into during our team dinner? James Morgan? He's one of the shareholders."

But Sophia wasn't listening anymore. SUN-wasn't that where Ethan worked?

If the rumors were true, she and Ethan might be working for the same company soon.

Was that good news. or bad?

-

When Sophia arrived at the elegant restaurant with Henry that evening, she was still going over the deal in her mind. She didn't expect what came next.

By the window, Ethan was seated with a graceful, delicate-looking woman.

Before she could react, Lucas arrived. He was-of course-the man in charge of Brighten.

His gaze swept past Ethan's table and landed on her, a flicker of mockery flashing in his eyes.

"This way, Mr. Marshall," Henry said enthusiastically.

They were seated just far enough from Ethan to make things uncomfortable. Sophia could feel Ethan's gaze skimming over her from time to time.

Sure enough, moments later, Ethan walked over with the woman.

"What a coincidence," he said smoothly, his eyes drifting between Sophia and Lucas before settling on Lucas. "Your date is stunning."

He called her Lucas's date.

Lucas was expressionless. "She's average."

"Mind if we join you?" Ethan offered with a polite smile.

Lucas didn't refuse.

The four-person table instantly became tense. Henry, sensing the awkwardness, quickly excused himself, leaving Sophia to face this surreal dinner alone.

"No introductions?" Sophia set down her fork and looked directly at Ethan's companion.

Ethan turned to the woman. "This is Lucas, General Manager of Brighten Group," then to Lucas, "And this is Olivia Holden."

Olivia smiled gently. "Are you and Mr. Marshall friends?"

Ethan said nothing. Lucas's face stayed cold.

Sophia couldn't take it anymore. The suffocating feeling of being excluded was unbearable. "Miss Holden, may I ask-what's your relationship with Mr. Griffin?"

Ethan's gaze shifted to her. "The same kind of relationship you have with Mr. Marshall."

He called her "Miss Marshall."

After dinner, Olivia clung to Ethan's arm. "It's late, Ethan. Can you take me home? You're headed that way, right?"

He glanced at Sophia, his tone soft. "Get in the car."

Olivia immediately slipped into the front seat-the one that should've been reserved for his wife.

Ethan opened the back door for Sophia.

A while later, they dropped Olivia off. Finally, it was just the two of them.

"The same kind of relationship?" Ethan repeated, watching her through the rearview mirror, his lips curling into a mocking smile.