Calista didn't say her last line out loud. She turned around and drove straight to the embassy.

The process of applying for permanent residency in Nordland wasn't complicated, especially for someone with her family background. The Arden family had moved their entire business overseas a few years earlier. Her parents and brother had relocated abroad as well.

She was the only one who stayed behind for Theodore. And now, she would be leaving too.

"The processing should take about a week," the clerk said with a smile.

She nodded, took the receipt, and walked out of the embassy.

It was finally coming to an end.

Theodore—the man she had pursued for six years, the reserved, chaste man she had once thought she could bring down from his pedestal—didn't belong to her after all.

She had sacrificed so much for him—adopting his vegetarian diet, embracing his abstinent lifestyle, and even toning down her vibrant personality just to get closer to him. Yet in the end, she couldn't even reach the deepest, most hidden desires in his heart.

She lowered her gaze to the receipt in her hand and let out a faint laugh, though her heart felt heavy. "Forget it. Theodore, if you don't like me, plenty of others do."

…

That night, Calista invited a group of close friends to a nightclub. She hadn't stepped into a place like that since marrying Theodore.

She wore a black slip dress, the hem swaying gently with each step to reveal her long, slender legs. There was a flicker of her long-lost boldness returning to her eyes.

Her best friend, Noelle Rowan, grabbed her arm. Noelle's eyes widened in surprise. "Calla, what's going on with you today? Ever since you fell for that cold ascetic, haven't you stayed glued to his side every day and stopped coming to places like this?"

Calista smiled and took a sip from her wine glass, her eyes turning slightly hazy. "Forget him. Tonight, I just want to have fun."

She turned and stepped onto the dance floor, swaying to the rhythm. Her body moved as if it had finally been unleashed, wild and uninhibited.

Her gaze swept over the male escorts nearby, a smirk playing on her lips. She reached out and lightly ran her hand over one man's torso, making him chuckle softly.

Noelle rushed over and grabbed her hand. "Calla, are you crazy? You've been touching all these guys and dancing so close. Aren't you afraid that Theodore will get mad if he sees this?"

"He's not even here," Calista said.

Noelle hesitated, then leaned close to her ear and whispered, "No… who told you he wasn't here? I've been trying to tell you—Theodore's in the back booth, and he's been watching you for a while!"

Calista's body stiffened, and she slowly looked up. Through the dizzying lights, she spotted him instantly.

Theodore wore a black suit that clashed with the surrounding chaos. He sat in a corner booth, his long fingers resting on the rim of his glass. His heavy gaze was fixed on her, and she had no idea how long he had been watching.

The music stopped at that exact moment.

She heard his friend beside him joke, "Theodore, Calla's been out there dancing for ages, and she's even touching other guys. If that were my wife, I'd have flipped the damn table by now. How are you still sitting here?"

Theodore's expression didn't flicker. He simply took a calm sip of his tea and replied coldly, "She knows her limits. She won't do anything inappropriate."

Those words hit Calista like a poisoned needle, striking exactly where she was most vulnerable.

Calista couldn't understand what he meant by knowing her limits. She wondered if he was certain she loved him too much to actually do anything with someone else or if he simply didn't care at all. Perhaps it was both.

"Wow, I'm genuinely outclassed by your level of detachment! I'm starting to wonder if there's anything in this world that could even faze you—"

The friend's voice suddenly rose mid-sentence. "Hey, Theodore, where are you going?"

Calista looked up instinctively and saw Theodore rise abruptly, his eyes fixed on the other side of the dance floor. A rare flicker of jealousy crossed his usually detached eyes.

She followed his gaze and saw Aveline standing at the edge of the dance floor in a white dress, exchanging contact information with a man.

Theodore strode over and grabbed Aveline's wrist, his voice terrifyingly cold. "Who allowed you to come to a place like this? And who gave you permission to give your number to others?"

Aveline was stunned for a moment, and then her eyes began to well up. "Why can't I be here? And why can't I give someone my number? Theodore, haven't you stopped caring about me? Then, what I do has nothing to do with you."

Theodore clenched his hand so tightly that his knuckles went white, his voice dropping to a low, heavy tone. "Who said I stopped caring about you?"

Aveline's voice broke with tears. "You did! You avoid me every day and refuse to see me! Theodore, you used to be so good to me. Why did everything suddenly change one day?"

At her words, Theodore's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice thick with suppressed emotion when he said, "That's because—"

Calista, standing nearby, felt a sharp pang in her chest. She knew Theodore couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth.

He could never admit that he avoided her because he liked her or that he lost all self-control the moment he saw her.

He could never confess that he loved her so obsessively that, despite being married for two years, he had never touched his wife. Instead, he commissioned a lifelike doll that looked exactly like her to ease his longing.

Calista gave a self-deprecating laugh and turned to leave, but then, she heard Aveline cry out, "Theodore, can we go back to how things were? I want my old brother back—the one who only had eyes for me!"

Theodore's voice was low and hoarse. "I'm married now. I can't keep revolving my whole life around you."

Aveline suddenly looked up, a hint of madness flickering in her eyes. "Does that mean if your wife disappears, we can go back to how things were before?"

Calista had just picked up her bag to leave when she saw Aveline snatch a wine bottle from the table and stride toward her.

With a loud crash, Aveline smashed the bottle onto Calista's head. The sound of shattering glass rang in Calista's ears as warm liquid streamed down her forehead.

Noelle's scream rang out beside her. "Calla!"

Calista stumbled backward, only to see Aveline raising a second bottle.

"Go die!" Aveline shouted.

The second strike landed even harder and knocked Calista out. She collapsed into a pool of blood, the world around her fading into nothing but a blur of frantic screaming.

Calista woke to a sharp, throbbing pain.

The smell of disinfectant filled her nose, and the bright fluorescent light overhead made her eyes ache. She instinctively lifted her hand to shield her eyes, but the movement tugged at the IV needle on the back of her hand, and a sharp hiss escaped her lips.

The nurse was changing her dressing and sighed with relief when she saw her awake. "You're finally awake. Who could hate you enough to do this? Two bottles were smashed over your head, and it took over 30 stitches to close the wounds."

Calista reflexively touched her bandaged head and asked in a raspy voice, "Where is the person who brought me here?"

"If you mean your friend, she stayed by your side all night but had to leave for a business emergency. She asked me to tell you that she hired a caregiver to look after you," the nurse replied.

Calista froze for a moment. She realized that the person who rushed her to the hospital wasn't even Theodore. She wondered where he could possibly be.

She reached for her phone, and as her fingers brushed the screen, an Instagram story from Aveline popped up. The caption read, "Theodore still knows exactly how to make me feel better."

In the video, Aveline held out her hand and pouted. "Look, I even cut my index finger while smashing those bottles."

The camera cut to Theodore crouching in front of her. His long, slender fingers held a bandage, which he carefully pressed onto her fingertip. He then lowered his head and pressed a restrained kiss to her finger, his voice low and husky. "There. It doesn't hurt anymore."

Calista stared at the screen, feeling as if the wound on her head had been ripped open again and doused with a bottle of alcohol. The phantom pain was so sharp it left her fingertips numb.

She took a deep breath and dialed 911. "Hello, I'd like to report an assault."

…

That night, Theodore pushed open the hospital room door. He was dressed in a black trench coat, his expression grim with a flicker of anger hidden in his eyes. "Did you call the police and accuse Aveline of intentional injury?"

Calista looked him straight in the eye. "Yes. What she did was intentional assault, and it's serious enough to press criminal charges."

Theodore's voice was deep, his brows furrowed with displeasure. "It was wrong for her to hit you in anger, but I've already punished her. This matter is settled."

Calista let out a cold laugh. "Punished her? How exactly did you punish her?"

Theodore replied, "She has a volatile temperament, so I grounded her for the day."

Calista froze for a moment before bursting into laughter, laughing so hard that her wounds ached. "I got over 30 stitches, and you only grounded her for a day? Theodore, did you keep her from leaving the house to punish her, or were you secretly protecting her because you were afraid that I'd go after her?"

Theodore's expression darkened. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course it was a punishment.

"I've already had the police drop the charges. There's no point in reporting it to other stations—no one in all of Jorville would take this case."

Calista gripped the bedsheets tightly, her nails nearly digging into her palms.

There were countless things she wanted to say, but in the end, all she could do was ask, "Theodore, in the six years I've spent chasing after you, what exactly did you think of me? Since you don't care about me, why did you even marry me?"

Theodore's frown deepened. "Who said that I don't care about you?"

After a pause, he continued, "That's enough. Let this end here. I'll stay at the hospital to look after you for the next few days, and I'll compensate you once you're discharged. Stop making a scene."

He spoke as if he were granting her some magnificent favor.

Calista suddenly found it laughable. And yet, she realized that it was true. In the past, she had always been the one chasing him—chasing him to tell him she loved him, chasing him to be with her, chasing him to bed.

He had never taken the initiative. Now that he chose to stay on his own, it truly felt like a tremendous favor.

Over the next few days, Theodore stayed at the hospital to care for Calista as promised.

He arrived on time every day, brought her light meals, and changed her dressings. He would even silently hold her hand when she woke up from the pain in the middle of the night.

The Calista she used to be would have been overjoyed, but now her heart felt utterly desolate. She realized that although she had loved him for six years, letting go took only an instant.

On the day of Calista's discharge, she reached the parking lot only to find Aveline sitting in Theodore's car. Upon spotting her, Aveline shot her a sidelong glance, her expression sour.

Theodore frowned. "Ave, did you forget what I told you before?"

Aveline bit her lip, her eyes brimming with tears as she murmured a reluctant apology, "Calista, I'm sorry. I acted too impulsively. Ever since Theodore married you, he's refused to see me for years. He devoted all his attention to you, so I took my anger out on you. I won't do it again."

Theodore turned to Calista and said calmly, "Ave wants to stay at our place for a few days. You two should try to get along from now on."

On the drive back, Theodore and Aveline sat in the front.

Calista leaned against the window, silently watching the scenery blur past. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Theodore's profile. He had always been composed and restrained, yet now his gaze kept drifting toward Aveline.

Aveline looked down at her phone and suddenly giggled. "Theodore, look at this guy. Isn't he handsome? He just added me on Snapchat."

Theodore's fingers tightened instantly around the steering wheel, his voice dropping to a low, cold tone. "Delete him."

Aveline pouted. "Why? I'm in my 20s. Am I not allowed to date?"

His tone left no room for argument. "I said delete him."

Aveline pursed her lips but still obediently deleted the contact. She muttered under her breath, "Theodore, you're stricter than a boyfriend."

Theodore remained silent, yet Calista noticed the tension in his jaw and realized that he was jealous.

After they returned home, Calista skipped dinner and went straight to her room.

She heard the clatter of dishes, Aveline's giggles, and the lingering romantic background music of a movie drifting in from beyond the door. In the two years of her marriage to Theodore, she had never experienced such warmth in their house. She buried herself under the covers, her heart aching.

After a while, the sounds outside gradually faded. Thirsty, Calista got up to pour herself some water, but she froze the moment she opened her door.

Moonlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Theodore crouched beside the couch, silently watching the sleeping Aveline. He had always seemed as untouchable as a god, yet in that moment, he was gazing at his own deity.

Aveline suddenly stirred and sleepily wrapped her arms around his neck, her voice soft and sweet. "Theodore, don't leave me. You're the only one who cares about me."

She unconsciously pulled his head down, and their lips met accidentally.

Theodore's pupils dilated as his breathing turned uneven in an instant. In the next second, as if his final thread of restraint had snapped, he could no longer hold back and leaned down to kiss her passionately.