Trystan and I getting married was, in truth, an accident.

Two years ago, right after Miles went abroad, I was wallowing in a state of profound misery. I wandered the streets, cursing him a thousand times over in my head.

I was so deep in my internal tirade that I accidentally stepped on a dog. Its yelps snapped me back to reality. I looked up to find myself meeting the gaze of a handsome man across from me who was busy chewing on a piece of bread.

Back then, Trystan was nonchalantly holding a leash in one hand and his bread in the other, chewing slowly. Even though I’d just trampled his dog, he remained perfectly composed, merely giving the leash a light tug so the dog could move to his side.

"I’m sorry, I wasn't paying attention," I blurted out instinctively.

He shook his head. Just then, a loud shout erupted from behind us.

Trystan took off running with his dog, and by reflex, I ran right after him. We ran until I was drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

When we finally ducked into a bubble tea shop for cover, Trystan looked outside. He didn't seem tired at all. "Why did you follow me?" he asked.

"Huh? Oh." I was a bit dazed. My first reaction was to curse him silently. Had I followed him all that way only to be asked that? Then I realized he was right. Why had I followed him?

I stayed silent. Trystan didn't say anything else either.

I wiped away my sweat and prepared to head home, but he called out to me. "Are you single?"

I blinked, confused. "Single. Why?"

"Marry me."

"..." The proposal was so blunt that it was bizarre. I started to decline. "No..."

"Twenty million."

I sat right back down and smoothed my hair. "You’ve got a deal, handsome."

I might be able to live without love in this life, but how much money could I really earn on my own?

And so, we became husband and wife in name only. Trystan said he wouldn't tie me down and that we could divorce whenever the time was right. It was a deal I couldn't possibly lose.

As the car pulled into the Evergreen Hall estate, I froze slightly. "This isn't where I stay."

"I know."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

"You're sleeping here tonight."

"..."

I glanced at him, the words catching in my throat. The car stopped in front of the villa, but I sat perfectly still.

Trystan grew impatient. He leaned over, looking at me through the window. "Do you want me to carry you out?"

I shivered instantly. "No, no. Trystan, how can you break your word like this? We had an agreement. Have you forgotten already? I never took you for that kind of man."

"..." He replied calmly, "You just said a whole lot of things that make zero sense. Is it a lack of IQ on my part, or is there something wrong with your head?"

I stared at him, speechless.

After a few seconds of eye contact, he realized what I was implying. He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Theresa, do I look that starved to you?"

"..."

I silently climbed out of the car.

Inside the villa, the lights were brilliant, illuminating every corner. Everything seemed to scream "wealth."

Just as I stepped through the door, someone was coming down the stairs. It was a woman in a nightgown, clearly fresh from a shower. Her skin was porcelain, and she was stunning.

I immediately spun around, bumping straight into Trystan as he walked in. I gave a forced laugh. "Did I come at a bad time? Am I interrupting something?"

"..."

Trystan looked over my shoulder. "Is it just you?"

The woman's voice was airy. "He’s still showering on the second floor."

I frowned, feeling a bit dazed by the exchange.

The sound of the door closing echoed behind me. Trystan looked at me and calmly made the arrangements. "You’re on the third floor. There’s a bathroom there."

I nodded and followed him. As we passed the second floor, I heard the sound of running water and couldn't help but ask, "You don't live here alone?"

"The person you just met is my sister, Charlie Abbott. She just got back from the airport tonight and is staying over for a bit."

I nodded as realization dawned on me. "Your sister is gorgeous," I remarked.

Trystan glanced back at me. Feeling a bit awkward, I grinned and corrected myself. "Our sister is gorgeous."

"They probably won't leave until noon tomorrow." Trystan led me into the room, stepped into the bathroom to check if the showerhead was working, and continued, "You’ll need to be sharp. Charlie is somewhat intelligent."

I got a bit sidetracked. "Why only 'somewhat'?"

"Because I'm smarter."

"..."

After my shower, I sat at the vanity, carefully removing my makeup.

A message popped up on Facebook. It was from Tyler. He and Miles were very close, and they had stayed in touch even while Miles was abroad.

Back then, Miles had sent me that voice note and deleted it before I could even reply, likely fearing Lilah might see it. I had responded by blocking him and closing off all avenues for him to add me as a friend.

Tyler’s message was brief, a mere notification telling me to turn my friend requests back on because someone wanted to add me.

I replied, "Not happening."

He shot back quickly, "Really? What if I told you it was Miles?"

Back in school, he loved using Miles’s name to pressure me. He was still doing it now, even knowing full well what Miles did two years ago.

I typed back nonchalantly, "Your father could try to add me, and the answer would still be no."

Tyler: "..."

He didn't message me again, and I settled into bed for a good night's sleep.

I’m usually a deep sleeper, but it took me until about one in the morning to drift off. The next morning, I didn't even bother looking in the mirror after washing up. I headed downstairs with my hair still a mess.

The moment I saw Charlie, dressed impeccably and pouring milk on the first floor, I jolted wide awake.

Damn it. I’d forgotten I wasn't at my own place.

Charlie happened to look up at me. There are many ways to die, so why did I have to die of embarrassment?

But Charlie clearly didn't mind. A faint smile played on her lips. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with sharp, radiant features like a movie star. And she was bare-faced. Completely bare-faced.

Her eyes and brows bore a resemblance to Trystan’s. Their family truly had incredible genes.

"Come have breakfast, Theresa," she said.

I awkwardly smoothed down my hair and pointed upstairs. "You guys go ahead. Charlie, let me go back up and brush my hair..."

"No need." She stopped me. "There’s a set on the first floor. It's more convenient. I'll go get it for you."

"Oh... thank you." I was a bit surprised by the favor.

There was another man at the dining table. He was leaning over a newspaper, not participating in the conversation. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and looked refined and scholarly.

When Charlie was pouring the milk earlier, he had leaned in slightly, his hand resting on her waist to make sure she didn't slip. Clearly, this was Trystan’s brother-in-law.

Once I was seated, I asked, "Where’s Trystan?"

The moment the words left my mouth, both Charlie and her husband looked at me. Charlie answered first. "He showers every morning. Didn't you know?"

"..."

Oh, lord. Why was there a detail like that?

I gave a strained laugh. "I didn't sleep well last night. I forgot."

"Didn't sleep well?" Charlie lowered her head to stir her milk with a spoon, a knowing smile on her face. "And yet, he still has so much energy."

What? What kind of aggressive talk was that?

I gave a strained, awkward nod. "Haha."

At that exact moment, Trystan came downstairs, completely oblivious to our conversation. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and took a bite of a sandwich.

Charlie took a sip of her milk and looked up. "How long have you two been married now?"

...

I was genuinely a bit hazy on the details. "A little over two years."

Trystan interjected, "Eight hundred and forty-six days."

Impressive. Why not just give her the decimal points while he was at it?

Charlie nodded as if deep in thought. "You should make a trip back home. Mother says it’s been a while since she saw you both."

Hearing that, I straightened my back slightly. "Right." I turned to Trystan with a sweet, forced smile. "Let's go visit tomorrow."

Trystan nodded. He placed a peeled egg onto my plate and smiled. "Eat this. You need the protein."

Startled, I looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. After a beat, I accepted it and lowered my voice. "Thank you, darling."

This exchange earned us a long, searching look from the two people sitting across from us.

Once they had left, I leaned back in my chair. "Do I really have to go to your house tomorrow?"

Trystan shook his head. "No need. I’ll handle it."

I let out an appreciative "oh."

He stood up. "Let’s go. I’ll drive you to work."

I hurried after him.

Back at the office, my colleague Gideon ran up to me, brimming with excitement. "Theresa, great news."

"What is it?"

He was beaming. "We have a new Director, and he is incredibly handsome."

I wasn't particularly interested. "Oh."

"And he has such a sophisticated name." Gideon swayed his head, his eyes crinkling. "Miles Hollingsworth."

"..."

My voice spiked. "Who??"

Gideon jumped at my reaction and poked me. "Miles. Why don't you think the name sounds good?"

... It wasn't a matter of whether it sounded good or not.

I pressed a hand to my forehead in frustration. "Why fix what isn't broken? Why the sudden change?"

Just as I had mentioned to him, a deep voice resonated from behind me. "Theresa."

I rolled my eyes hard and turned around. "Speak."

Miles said, "In my office."

Beside me, Gideon whispered under his breath, "God, the closer you get, the more handsome he looks."

He was the literal definition of a facade.

Miles stood behind his desk, staring at me. After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Are you... still angry about what happened two years ago?"

I smiled. "Not at all. I’m not that petty."

"Theresa, your marriage to Trystan is a sham, isn't it?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I kept a straight face. "It’s very real. I’m just wondering why you’re so obsessed with this?"

Miles shook his head and let out a soft laugh. "You must be lying to me. Trystan isn't an ordinary man. His net worth is a matter of public record. There is no way he would marry you."

I gave a cold laugh. "What exactly are you implying? That I’m not good enough for him?"

"Theresa." He said my name again, looking at me with feigned concern. "You know the gap between you and him. I’m not trying to belittle you, I’m just stating the facts."

I gave a flat "oh." "So what? Why tell me this? Who I marry has nothing to do with you."

Miles fell silent for a few seconds. "It doesn't matter, because you don't love him."

"You don't actually think I still like you, do you?"

He said, "I came back to this country for you. Be a good girl and add me back on Facebook."

I curled my lip into a smile. "Have you considered Lilah’s feelings while saying all this?"

He paused, then continued slowly, "She doesn't matter."

...

I stared at him. "You are shameless. Truly, utterly shameless."

Faced with my blunt insult, Miles didn't get angry. He calmly asked, "Is Trystan forcing you into anything?"

"No. I like him very much."

"You can't fool me, Theresa." He looked down and laughed. When he looked up, the smile had vanished, replaced by a cold intensity. "Leave him. Come to me."

I asked, "Is there something wrong with your head, or are you just naturally despicable? Do you want to play a double game with me? I'm warning you, don't lose your mind, Miles. Otherwise, I won't mind settling the old debt from two years ago."

After my outburst, I turned to leave. Miles suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms.

"You bastard."

He leaned down, placing a finger over my lips to silence me. His voice was thick with irritation. "Theresa, can't you just listen for once?"

He paused, his voice softening again. "In France, I missed you so much. There were times the heartache drove me nearly insane. Do you have any idea? I was wrong, okay. Forgive me this once. Can we start over?"

The moment he finished, Miles abruptly let go of me. He ducked down, clutching the back of his head, his body recoiling.

I turned my head in confusion.

Lilah was standing at the office door, watching us.

Not far from her stood another man. He was leaning against a desk, idly playing with a small slingshot he'd found. Then he looked up and offered a small smile.

Trystan.

"Trystan?" Miles knit his brows, rubbing the back of his head as he lowered his hand. His voice dropped an octave. "Did you throw that?"

Trystan remained leaning against the desk. He didn't answer the question, instead asking one of his own. "Assaulting a married woman in her office... are you trying to be a homewrecker on purpose?"

I tried to guess why Trystan was here, but I suspected it had something to do with Lilah.

Miles looked at him coldly. "Do you two really think I’m that easy to fool?"

"..." Trystan paused, his gaze flicking to Miles’s forehead twice. "Do you actually have a brain injury?"

"..."

Insults weren't the scary part. What was terrifying was Trystan’s tone; it was so sincere, as if he were genuinely concerned about the state of Miles's brain.

Miles was clearly reaching his breaking point. He took a deep breath and sneered, "Mr. Abbott, if you have so much free time, perhaps you should find something to do. You don't belong to this company. You shouldn't be here. Because you’re young, I’ll let that slide. I suggest you leave."

By comparison, Miles was older. He was two years older than Trystan, as was I. When we were freshmen, Trystan was still in the eleventh grade.

Hearing this, Trystan raised the slingshot again, aiming it at him. Miles reflexively raised a hand to block it.

Trystan let out a soft chuckle, tossed the slingshot aside, and stood up. He jerked his chin toward me. "Come outside for a second."

I stepped toward him. Miles reached out to pull me back, but I dodged him quickly, offering a chilly reminder. "Keep your distance."

As I passed Lilah, she smiled at me.

Trystan stood by the company’s reception desk and pushed a bag toward me. I looked at him skeptically.

"My mother made this for you."

I nodded as I realized what it was. "Did she ask why I didn't come by?"

"She did. I told her you were busy with work, so she spent fifteen minutes putting this lunch together for you."

I couldn't help but smile.

Trystan continued, "If your current situation is too much of a headache, you could always come to the Abbott Group."

That offer caught me off guard. I shook my head, declining. "No need. I can manage."

He didn't press the matter. He gave a sharp nod and made a clean exit.

I watched his retreating figure, feeling a wave of appreciation. Trystan had a truly flawless face. I used to think Miles was the best-looking man I’d ever met until Trystan came along and proved there is always a bigger fish in the sea. Even the mole on Trystan’s chin looked better than Miles's. I’m not even joking.

He never lacked admirers, and he was the most capable man in his social circle. For the past two years, our paper marriage had acted as a wall, shielding him from countless romantic advances, yet I’d still seen women try their luck with him.

Recently, Trystan had suddenly mentioned that the time was right. He’d probably realized he was wasting his youth. He couldn't keep building this bridge just for me forever.

I thought about it and realized I couldn't keep wasting his time either.

When I got home after work, I showered and sat on the sofa wrapped in a towel. I popped a potato chip into my mouth and picked up the remote to find something to watch. I’d just settled on a variety show when the phone on the table vibrated.

Perhaps the one thing people want most in life is a regret pill. For instance, right now, I deeply regretted not putting my phone on Do Not Disturb the moment I finally had a chance to relax.

I paused the show and picked up the device. It was a text.

— It’s Miles.

Great. More trouble.

I was debating whether to tell him to get lost or just block him when a second message arrived.

— I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I think I understand why you’re so angry. Is it because I went abroad with Lilah? I was too impulsive back then. I didn't realize until later that while I was overseas, you were always the first person on my mind.

I gave a cold laugh and typed out a reply. "I still vividly remember what you said the night you got back."

About two minutes later.

— I was only testing your reaction, Theresa. We can resolve the issues you’re worried about in time.

— No need to resolve anything. I don't care anymore.

— Why? Because you feel the outcome is the same? You and Lilah actually have a few things in common.

I replied. "Not a thing."

He asked. "?"

— She is Lilah, and I am your father.

...

Miles didn't text back. Mainly because I didn't have the patience to wait for a reply, and blocked him immediately.

Throughout our four years of university, I had always followed Miles around. Consequently, in the eyes of everyone we knew:

Me = shadow = lovesick fool = Miles’s exclusive devotee.

Back then, I used to sigh and wonder why people didn't just call me a romantic instead. Fine, the truth is I wasn't even romantic. I stayed by his side for a reason—a reason so tragic it would make the Grim Reaper weep.

Miles and I had known each other since the tenth grade. My first impression of him was that he had a nice face but a very brooding personality. He was actually quite gloomy because his grandfather had been bedridden with a serious illness for a long time. His time was running out, and Miles was the person closest to him.

Our houses were near each other, so whenever I was free, I would accompany Miles to visit his grandfather.

During the final three months before our senior year exams, Miles started dating a girl from our class. One Friday, the girl coaxed him into going shopping with her, so Miles asked me to head to the hospital first.

On the way, I kept trying to think of an excuse to explain his absence, but when I arrived, Mr. Hollingsworth had already figured it out for himself. He said he knew his grandson was in love because Miles was often distracted while sitting by his bedside, sometimes even smiling to himself like an idiot.

I felt conflicted. "Mr. Miles will be here soon..."

He cut me off, his voice weak, though he forced a smile. "I’m... running out of strength. You’re a good girl. My biggest worry is Miles. So, I hope that after I’m gone, you can take my place by his side. Watch over him so he doesn't lose his way during the important moments. Will you?"

...

I gave a solemn nod.

Miles arrived twenty minutes late and collapsed by his grandfather’s bed. His face was stone-cold, but tears streamed down his cheeks incessantly. You could tell he was riddled with regret because he broke up with that girl shortly after.

The girl clung to him, sobbing piteously, but Miles seemed to have suddenly grown a heart of stone. He remained completely unmoved.

I happened to be there at the time, and that’s how the rumors started—that I had sabotaged them and caused the breakup.

Later, Miles and I got into the same university. By then, influenced by the friends around him, he had begun to vaguely believe that I had feelings for him. I didn't bother to explain because my mission was essentially complete.

Now, he annoyed me to death.

Until he met Lilah.

Lilah was beautiful and gentle. There wasn't a man alive who wouldn't like her, and Miles was no exception. I felt relieved. I figured this time he would definitely use his pursuit of Lilah as a reason to keep his distance from me and take the initiative to cut ties. After all, in his eyes and the eyes of our friends, I was still the one who had pined for him for years, content even without being loved back.

At that point, I planned to play the part of the heartbroken soul and leave in disappointment. My plan was perfect.

But reality always has a few surprises in store.

Miles relied on his good looks and casually pursued Lilah for quite a while. The result? He was rejected.

He was devastated. He went out drinking until he lost his mind. I got a call and went to pick him up. I was in a foul mood and had just woken up, so my head felt like it was going to explode. I just wanted to smash a bottle over his head to wake him up.

"Are you sick? Why did you drink so much? And if you’re going to drink, why call me out of all the people you know? Are you doing this just to keep me from sleeping?"

My voice was incredibly irritable.

So when Miles looked up dizzily and asked, "How long have you liked me?"

I was stunned. "?"

He nodded. "Fine. Let's date."

"..."