Chapter 2

2.

Melanie didn't come back until dawn the next morning.

The moment she crawled into bed next to me, smelling like that damn lemon soap, I woke up.

The sky outside was just starting to turn gray.

As her breathing slowed into a deep sleep, I turned to look at her.

Her collar wasn't straight, revealing dark, purplish bruises all over her neck and chest.

Hickeys.

A wave of nausea hit me. I bolted to the bathroom and collapsed in front of the toilet, retching.

When I finally caught my breath, Melanie was leaning against the doorframe, her voice husky from sleep.

"What's with you this morning？ Is your stomach acting up again？"

I stared at her, amazed by how well she could act.

"Why are you looking at me like that？" she asked, confused.

I looked away, pretending I hadn't seen the marks of another man on her skin.

"Nothing. I probably just ate something bad yesterday," I muttered.

She gave a dismissive shrug and went back to sleep.

I didn't make her breakfast. I went to the guest room and closed the door.

I didn't wake up until my phone started screaming with her calls.

"Silas！ Where the hell are you？ I'm going to be late. Why didn't you wake me up？"

In the background, I heard the sound of a glass breaking in the kitchen.

"Silas！ Where is my white designer dress？ I can't find it anywhere！"

Her voice was shrill and demanding.

The door to the guest room flew open. Melanie stood there, fuming.

"What is this, Silas？ You're just lying here doing nothing？"

"Are you trying to make me look like a fool at work？"

She threw her phone onto the bed next to me.

"Get up and help me…"

I couldn't help it. I started laughing.

"Melanie, am I your husband or your maid？"

She stopped mid-sentence, her expression shifting to something awkward.

For years, I had everything ready for her before she even opened her eyes.

She had grown so used to it that she forgot I was a human being.

Now, after just one day of me stopping, she was treating me like a broken appliance.

"Silas, I'm just stressed. I didn't mean it like that. Don't be dramatic."

"If you're sick, just stay in bed. I'll handle the office today."

She assumed my behavior was just due to a physical illness.

I didn't correct her. I just nodded.

She lingered for a second before asking again about the white dress.

"Do you have a date tonight？" I asked, my voice flat.

I had already seen Zion's latest post on Instagram.

"A special night with a special someone. A little nervous," the caption read.

Melanie avoided my gaze. "I'm just grabbing dinner with Quinn."

Quinn was her best friend. I knew she was lying.

I told her where the dress was without another word.

My coldness was finally starting to get under her skin. She frowned.

"What is actually wrong with you？"

Her eyes dropped to the phone case in her hand, and she suddenly rolled her eyes.

"Silas, are you still throwing a tantrum over a phone case？"

"I just thought it was cute. Is that a crime？"

"Am I not allowed to have any freedom just because I'm married to you？"

In the past, those words would have made me apologize. I would have begged for her forgiveness.

Now, I just looked at her with blank eyes.

My silence made her even angrier. "You're being impossible！" she yelled, slamming the door on her way out.

I sat in the silence and let out a dry laugh.

I got up, showered, and headed straight to the agency.

the staff asked me one last time if I was sure about the service.

I signed the papers without a single moment of hesitation.

Melanie, you won't have to deal with me for much longer.

I hope you enjoy the parting gift I've prepared for you.