The master bedroom contained a single large bed.

The room featured a stark black, white, and gray color scheme.


Everything was immaculately clean, with the delicate scent of gardenia hanging in the air.

I suddenly recalled—gardenias were my favorite.

I opened the closet searching for pajamas but found only black clothes.


All men's clothes.

…


Left with no choice, I knocked on the study door.

"Adrian… I mean, honey, sorry to disturb you."

My voice dripped with awkward politeness.

Adrian glanced up from his computer, gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose—scholarly yet somehow sinfully attractive.

"Where are my pajamas? I checked the master closet but couldn't find anything."

Adrian studied me silently for several long seconds.

Just as I was about to give up and leave, he rose and walked toward me.

He stood directly in front of me, his tall frame making me feel small and fragile.

He smirked, hands casually tucked in his pockets.

"Going all in on this amnesia act, aren't you?"

I swallowed nervously. What could I say? He wouldn't believe the truth anyway.

To my relief, he dropped the subject and brushed past me.

I stood frozen, unsure what to do.

He looked back over his shoulder.

"Coming?"

I hurried after him, careful to keep my distance.

"Thanks."

Two minutes later, I eagerly opened another closet door—and slammed it shut instantly.

My face burned hot.

I couldn't believe what I'd just seen!

"Are those…"

I couldn't finish, but Adrian clearly understood.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with amusement.

His eyes said it all: "Keep pretending. I'm enjoying the show."

…

I steeled myself and reopened the closet. The scandalous lingerie inside was beyond anything I'd imagined.

The kind of barely-there outfits you'd see in adult shops—leaving nothing to the imagination.

Had I really worn these things after we got married?

Worse still, Adrian showed no sign of leaving me to my embarrassment.

I turned my back to him and rifled through the hangers, desperately seeking anything resembling normal sleepwear.

…

I gave up and turned around. God knows what possessed me to ask:

"Honey, which one do you… like best on me?"

Adrian's eyes darkened instantly.

He let out a harsh laugh and stormed out.

The door slammed so hard I jumped.

What had made him so angry?

They say women are complicated, but men? Impossible to understand.

As I headed to the bathroom, a thought hit me—was our divorce because of intimacy issues?

After my shower, I wrapped myself in a robe and went to check on Milo.

The nursery was beautifully decorated—Adrian clearly adored his son.

I crept to the bed where he slept peacefully, clutching a stuffed animal.

I tucked the kicked-off blanket around him and gently removed his thumb from his mouth, wiping it with a tissue.

In that moment, I finally felt like a mother.

Yet I only knew his name was Milo—I didn't even know his age.

I found our Marriage License—we'd been married for four years.

So Milo must be around three.

I stroked his hair and tiptoed out. As I closed the door and turned, I nearly collided with Adrian.

We stood so close I could feel his breath on my forehead.

My back pressed against the door as Adrian loomed over me, not moving an inch.

My heart pounded so hard I thought it might burst.

"Finished?"

"Mm-hmm."

The tension between us was suffocating.

"So… bedtime?"

Adrian remained silent and still.

I clutched my robe tighter, suddenly aware of the flimsy nightgown underneath.

"I'll head to bed then."

I squeezed past him and practically ran to the bedroom.

Without a word, I slipped under the covers and lay rigid as a board.

Minutes later, the bedroom door opened as Adrian entered.

He froze when he saw me in bed, his eyes narrowing slightly.

His intense stare sent shivers down my spine.

"Honey, which side is yours?"

Silence.

Had Adrian always been this cold and distant?

He just kept staring without a word. I sighed and climbed out of bed.

"You pick first."

Stubborn man!

I mentally cursed him, knowing he couldn't hear my thoughts.

Finally, he moved.

He walked to the far side, lay down with his back to me, and snapped off the lamp.

Me: …

The room plunged into darkness. Thank God I didn't have night blindness!

I carefully slid back under the covers. Adrian's breathing was steady beside me.

The room was silent, but sleep eluded me completely.

My thoughts swirled chaotically—I couldn't focus on anything.

Already frustrated, I realized my robe was digging painfully into my injured arm.

I shifted carefully. When Adrian didn't move, I sat up to remove the uncomfortable robe.

After taking it off, I massaged my sore arm—completely missing that Adrian had opened his eyes until he suddenly flipped me onto my back, pinning me beneath him.

He loomed over me in the darkness as my breathing quickened. I could barely make out his features.

But I felt his closeness—our breaths mingling in the darkness.

"You're… still awake?"

"What game are you playing?"

"What?"

"You begged me to marry you, then schemed for divorce, and now you're in my bed trying to seduce me. I'm tired of your games, Leah. What do you want?"

"Seduce you?"

I gaped at him, a cold feeling spreading through my chest.

I glanced down and realized how revealing my nightgown was.

No wonder he thought I was making a move.

"I… that wasn't my intention. I'm sorry."

I reached for the discarded robe on the floor.

But Adrian had clearly had enough.

He rolled off me and stalked to the door, throwing back one last comment:

"Leah, I don't give a damn what you're thinking. My feelings for you died long ago. Whether you're faking amnesia or playing seductress, it won't work."

"I'm sleeping in the guest room. Do whatever the hell you want."

The door slammed behind him.

Alone in the vast bed, I was left with nothing but my confusion and heartache.