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“I wasn’t crying,” Eva insisted stubbornly, lifting her head as she struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill. She tried to appear calm, as if the emotional storm inside her was nothing more than a passing drizzle.
“Don’t do something so foolish again,” Adrian said coldly, his gaze sharp as he guided her toward the bathroom. He didn’t wait for her response before turning and leaving.
Once alone, Eva sat there for a moment, her shoulders sagging. Slowly, she raised her head, wiping the last of the tears from her face. Her fingers shook as she fumbled in her pocket and pulled out the crumpled pregnancy report. The rain had soaked it, leaving the words almost unreadable.
She had planned to tell him—perhaps as a surprise—but now, the idea seemed utterly pointless. Adrian’s indifference, his callousness toward her, and the mockery of the situation left her feeling empty.
Two years as Adrian Blackwood’s wife had taught her many things. She knew that he was never without his phone. There was no way he would send her an absurd message to come over just to send her back again. Someone else had taken his phone—probably one of his friends—turning her into the punchline of their joke.
As the thought sank in, Eva couldn’t help but scoff at the absurdity of it all. She stared at the report for a long moment, then, without a second thought, she tore it up.
Half an hour later, Eva emerged from the bathroom, her steps quiet and purposeful. Adrian was sitting on the sofa, his laptop open in front of him as he worked, completely absorbed in whatever task was demanding his attention.
He glanced up when she entered, his gaze flicking toward the bowl of Nutrition Soup beside him. “Drink it.”
“Okay,” she replied quietly, walking over to the bowl. But she didn’t drink it right away. A thought lingered in her mind, and she hesitated before speaking his name.
“Adrian.”
His tone was distant, indifferent. “What is it?”
Eva studied the sharp line of his jaw, the way his profile cut through the dim light of the room. For a moment, she felt a strange ache in her chest.
Adrian, growing impatient, finally looked up, their eyes meeting.
Fresh from the bath, Eva’s skin had regained its rosy color, her lips no longer as pale as before. Still, the remnants of the rain made her seem fragile, delicate—almost breakable. Adrian’s gaze lingered on her, a flicker of desire igniting in his eyes. But he didn’t act on it immediately.
Eva, lost in her thoughts, didn’t notice the shift in his demeanor. She was too focused on finding the right words to say, too hesitant to speak the truth she had kept buried for so long.
When she finally opened her mouth, her voice barely above a whisper, “You…”
Before she could finish, Adrian closed the distance between them in one fluid motion. His hand snaked around her chin, tilting her face toward him, and he kissed her hard—his lips claiming hers with a hunger that startled her.
His fingers brushed against her skin, igniting a rush of heat that left her breathless. The kiss was fierce, possessive, and just as she thought she might push him away, his phone rang from the table.
Adrian froze, pulling away with a slight sigh, his chest rising and falling with the same intensity as his kiss. His lips barely brushed hers as he spoke in a low, husky voice.
“Drink the soup and go to bed early.”
Without waiting for her response, Adrian stood, his movements smooth as he walked toward the door, his phone in hand. He closed the balcony door behind him as he stepped outside.
Eva stayed seated for a while, her mind swirling. Instead of heading to the bedroom, she walked toward the balcony. The glass door was only half-closed, and Adrian’s voice, though muffled by the distance, drifted through the cool night air.
“I won’t leave.”
“Don’t think too much. Go to sleep.”
His voice was soft, almost tender. But it wasn’t the tone she was used to—the commanding, distant Adrian she had come to know. This side of him was gentler, almost protective, and Eva couldn’t help but stand there, caught in the warmth of his words.
She chuckled softly to herself. So, he could be this gentle, too.
Turning away, she walked back into the bedroom, sitting by the bed with her thoughts heavy.
This marriage was a mistake from the beginning. A transaction. A mutual arrangement.
Two years ago, the Hansen family had fallen from grace. Once the pride of New York, they were now the subject of scorn and ridicule. In an instant, Eva went from being part of a prominent family to a joke, a pawn in a game of humiliation.
At her lowest, when she had nowhere else to turn, Adrian had appeared—he paid off the family debts, dealt with those who had mocked her, and then, almost as an afterthought, had proposed a fake engagement.
“It’s just for my grandmother,” he had said. “She’s sick, and she likes you. I’ll help you rebuild the Hansen family, but we’ll fake an engagement for her sake.”
It had all made sense at the time. She knew it was fake. Knew it wasn’t about love. But somehow, she still agreed. And somehow, she still fell for him.
But Adrian never wavered from his indifference. He was always so natural, taking her to events and banquets, playing the role of the devoted fiancé. A year later, when his grandmother’s health worsened, they married, and the world spoke of their childhood romance, their ‘happy union.’
But in truth, their marriage was a contract. A performance for the world. There was no love. No happily ever after.
Eva’s thoughts broke as Adrian’s voice interrupted her reverie.
“Still awake?” His voice was low, carrying a slight tension.
Without a word, he sat down next to her, the space beside her sinking under his weight. His presence was familiar, yet unsettling in its warmth.
“I have something to tell you,” he said, his voice flat.
Eva didn’t turn to face him. She already knew what was coming.
“Let’s get divorced,” Adrian said bluntly, as if discussing the weather.
Eva’s heart skipped, even though she had known this moment was inevitable. She took a steady breath and looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “When?”
She kept her voice calm, even as emotions churned beneath the surface. There was no shock in her tone. No pleading. It was as if this was a simple conversation about an ordinary matter.
Adrian frowned, noticing her calm demeanor. “Soon, after Nora’s surgery.”
“Okay,” Eva replied, her voice still steady.
Adrian’s brows furrowed. “That’s it? No questions? No… anything?”
Eva finally met his gaze, a flicker of something—perhaps disappointment, perhaps bitterness—in her eyes. “What do you want me to say?”
Adrian blinked, taken aback by her response. Then, after a beat, he let out a dry chuckle. “Nothing. You heartless woman.”
He lay down beside her, the air between them thick with unspoken words.
Eva didn’t respond. She simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a jumbled mess. She had long known this marriage was a transaction. But hearing the words so plainly from his lips—it made it all feel final.
Her heart ached, but she couldn’t show it. She couldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her vulnerable.
In the silence of the night, she wondered: Was he waiting for her to fight for them? For her to beg him to stay? Would he feel anything if she did? Or was it too late for them both?
