Chapter 1

After two years of marriage, my husband Suhang and I were still basically strangers.

When we first got married, I was a chubby, shut-in slob who had completely given up on myself, while he was a well-mannered rising star, a top university graduate.

Our marriage had been arranged by our parents.

We rarely slept in the same bed, and actual physical intimacy was even rarer. But we treated each other with polite respect, and he had always been very good to me.

I’d suffered from depression and had trouble sleeping at night, while he was used to staying up late to work. He said he was afraid of disturbing me and took the initiative to move into the guest room.

Last night, Suhang and I had a bit to drink. I felt dizzy and went to bed early.

I don’t know how long I slept. In a daze, I vaguely heard a knock at the door: “Honey, are you okay?”

My consciousness was fuzzy; I couldn’t remember if I answered.

Half-awake, half-asleep, I felt someone come in. The mattress dipped, and a hand brushed my cheek, the palm burning hot.

“Honey…” I murmured, calling out to him.

He didn’t reply. His breathing suddenly turned rough, his scorching breath burning against the side of my neck.

His lips came crashing down-urgent and fierce, like a parched man finally finding a spring. His hands were possessive, aggressive in a way that brooked no refusal, seizing me with desperate urgency, yet trembling ever so slightly.

I had never seen this side of Suhang-uncontrolled, crazed, almost greedy.

His passion infected me. My heart pounded wildly; I felt myself ignite.

In the darkness, his body heat was searing. His palm pressed against my back, forcing me tightly against him. I heard his stifled gasps, felt the tremor in his fingertips.

In that moment, he was no longer just my roommate. He was my husband.

We finally felt like a real married couple.

When I woke the next morning, the bed beside me was empty. I touched the sheet where he should have been; it was cold.

I stepped out of the bedroom just in time to see Suhang coming out of the room next door. His skin was very pale, with obvious dark circles under his eyes-clearly, he hadn’t slept well.

“Honey, you’re up?” His tone was a bit flustered, his eyes dodging mine. “You drank a lot last night, so I made some millet porridge for you.”

My cheeks burned. I lowered my head and answered, “Mm.”

“Last night, you…” I wanted to say that last night, I thought he would stay.

His gaze swept across my neck, where an obvious hickey still remained. His eyes darted away in a rush, and he busied his hands pulling on his jacket. “Breakfast is in the kitchen. Remember to eat it while it’s hot. I’m heading to work. If anything comes up, just call me.”

“Mm, okay.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

We still went through the same polite routine as always, but my mood was completely different. It felt like every word he said was soaked with sweetness, something to savor.

I replayed last night in my mind-those blurry fragments of memory were enough to make my heart speed up again. I was genuinely happy that things between us had progressed to this kind of intimacy, like a real couple.

But while I was tidying up the bed, I found a man’s button I’d never seen before. Deep blue, with a metal rim, a few threads still hanging off it, like it had popped off some dress shirt.

I searched through all of Suhang’s clothes and didn’t find a single item with buttons like that.

Was the man from last night…really him?

Where did this button come from? How did it end up in my bed?

Scenes from last night flashed through my mind again, and that strange feeling grew stronger and stronger.

The man from last night didn’t quite feel like Suhang.