The rain poured relentlessly, wrapping the world in a cloak of gray, but Eva stubbornly raised her chin, fighting to keep the swelling tears at bay. “I wasn’t crying; it was just the rain,” she declared, resolutely pretending that her heart hadn't just shattered into pieces. Adrian's response was as cold as the rain drumming against the window panes. “Don’t do such foolish things next time.” With that, he ushered her toward the bathroom, his demeanor suggesting that he was done with the whole affair. As he walked away, Eva kept her gaze fixed on the floor, her thoughts tumbling like the raindrops outside. Once the door clicked shut behind him, she finally lifted her head, gingerly wiping away the remnants of her sorrow. Alone, the bathroom felt like a confessional for her frustrations. She locked the door, her heart racing as she reached for the crumpled pregnancy report that had been hidden away in her pocket, drenched and nearly illegible. The rain had reduced the document to a smear of ink and unintended secrets. What had once been a hopeful surprise was now tainted by ridicule. Adrian, after two years of marriage, had shown her time and again that he was constantly tethered to his devices—he wouldn’t summon her to tease her. No, someone else had to be behind the malicious message that branded her a fool. She scowled at the betrayal, the laughter of unseen faces echoed in her mind. After a long moment of contemplation, Eva's frustration peaked, and she ripped the report into shreds, watching the pieces flutter like fallen leaves on the floor. Half an hour later, she emerged from the bathroom, a façade of calm draping over her heart like a thin veil. Adrian was on the couch, long limbs sprawled comfortably, engrossed in the glowing screen of his laptop. A bowl of Nutrition Soup awaited her, as if it were some kind of peace offering, but her heart was far from accepting it. “Drink it,” he commanded, not bothering to glance up from his work. “Okay,” she replied without conviction, picking up the bowl but not bringing it to her lips. Instead, she gathered her resolve and called out, “Adrian.” “What is it?” His voice lacked warmth, barely lifting from the screen's glow. As she observed him, the contours of his strong jawline captivating her attention, Eva's heart raced. She had seen him so many times before, yet his presence always ignited a spark in her. Hesitation danced in her chest as she prepared to voice her thoughts. But before she could complete her sentence, Adrian surged forward, compelling her by grasping her chin and pulling her into a kiss. The warmth of his lips ignited a fire within her, and she felt herself melt against him, her fair skin racing to match the flush of heat that coursed through her. She nearly lost herself until the obnoxious trill of his phone jarred them back to reality, creating a rift between them. Adrian’s fiery passion dimmed as he pulled away, leaving her breathless and confused. “Drink the soup and go to bed early,” he instructed, retreating to answer the call, closing the balcony door behind him. Eva lingered, caught in the aftermath of their kiss, the realization that they'd fallen into a pattern neither had anticipated. Instead of retreating to the bedroom, intrigue directed her steps toward the balcony. The door was ajar, a sliver of the outside world slipping through, as Adrian’s deep voice floated in with the cool evening breeze. “I won’t leave.” “Don’t think too much. Go to sleep.” His tone was gentle, unlike the stoicism he donned before her. Amusement bubbled within her at this revelation. So he could be gentle. She turned and retreated into the bedroom, where she sank onto the bed, void of any expression. Their marriage had been a mistaken venture from the beginning—a mere transaction set against the backdrop of desperation. Two years ago, when the Hansen family crumbled, Eva’s world turned upside down. She had unwittingly transformed from a socialite to a subject of mockery in the blink of an eye. The Hansen name, once synonymous with grandeur, had become the punchline to cruel jokes. Amidst her darkest hour, Adrian resurfaced—not as a lover, but as a rescuer. With ruthless efficiency, he dismantled the schemes against her, bringing those who sought to humiliate her to their knees, and bravely paid off the family’s debts. “Let’s get engaged,” he’d declared, proposing a ruse to placate his ailing grandmother, whose heart fluttered at the mention of Eva. “Don’t worry; it’s just a fake engagement,” he assured her, devoid of any romantic intention. Despite knowing it was merely a charade, Eva had agreed. She loved him painfully, even when the affection was one-sided. Their engagement felt out of place, awkwardness fueling her deepening feelings. Meanwhile, Adrian navigated their relationship smoothly, pursuing social events with an ease that made her heart ache with unrequited love. A year later, in a twist of fate under Nora Blackwood's deteriorating condition, they wed. To the world, they were the perfect couple, childhood sweethearts finding their way to a fairytale ending. Yet, as Eva gazed at the rebound of her life, sardonic laughter escaped her lips. There was no fairytale—only a transaction, each of them tethered to their self-serving purposes. “You're not asleep yet?” Adrian’s voice pulled her from her spiraling thoughts, as he settled beside her, his cool scent enveloping her entirely. “I have something to tell you,” he continued, visibly tense. Eva already suspected the nature of his announcement, bracing herself for the words that sliced through the near silence. “Let’s get divorced.” Her heart skipped, though she had anticipated the blow. “When?” she managed, her expression calm. “Soon, after Nora's surgery.” “Okay,” she whispered, her steadiness contrasting sharply with the storm within. “That's it?” His surprise was evident, cloaked in a slight chuckle. “What?” she countered, her brow raising in question. He smirked, incredulous at her composed disposition. “Nothing, you heartless woman.” The weight of their shared history pressed against him, and it left an unsettling discomfort in the air. Yet for Eva, the transaction felt clear; if not for his grandmother, she might have withdrawn from this life long before. As if sensing her indifferent resolve, he shifted beside her, closing his eyes, wrestling with the inexplicable pull she maintained over him. “Adrian,” she called out softly, interrupting the brief serenity enveloping them. His dark eyes shot open, piercing through the dim light with a blend of urgency and confusion. “What do you want to say to me?” Eva met his gaze, feeling her heart flutter uncharacteristically. Did he truly hope she would fight for the marriage they both knew was dissolving? In that moment, an unspoken understanding danced between them, laced with regret and yearning. She hesitated, wondering where their journey would lead next.