"You're sleeping on the couch."

Before being ushered into the bedroom under the fierce gazes of the four elders, I told Elvis.

He agreed without hesitation, "Fine!"

He didn't even say, "Why don't you sleep on the couch?"

I was a bit surprised.

But the moment I opened the door, I was no longer surprised.

Because there was no couch at all!!!

"Elvis, I distinctly remember there being a couch here. Where is it?"

I was frantic.

But Elvis remained calm, raising an eyebrow at me, "Other than the bed, what else do you see here?"

I looked around and felt a cold chill run through me.

They say older people are wiser for a reason.

These four, with a combined age of two hundred years, really didn't hold back in bullying us two kids.

"Just accept it."

Elvis casually sprawled out on the bed, then looked at me with a hint of impatience, "Are you going to sleep or not?"

I stood there with my arms crossed, torn.

Staring at Elvis lying on the bed, I asked cautiously, "You're not going to try anything, right?"

Elvis suddenly burst into laughter.

And it was a surprisingly nice laugh.

He propped his head up with one arm and gave me a once-over.

"Maggie, where do you get this confidence from? With that shriveled body of yours, like a withered cucumber, do you think I'm that desperate?"

"Elvis, are you asking for a beating?"

I was instantly enraged and jumped onto the bed, raising my fists to give him a piece of my mind. But before I could land a punch, Elvis flipped over, and the next second, the blanket was thrown over my head, wrapping me up tightly.

I tried to struggle, but Elvis tightened his grip from outside the blanket.

"Alright, just go to sleep, Princess Maggie."

For some reason, that "Princess Maggie" from Elvis struck a chord in me.

Actually, Elvis and I didn't always have such a terrible relationship.

At least in kindergarten, we got along really well.

Back then, I made Elvis call me Princess Maggie, and he obediently did so.

I told him to be my little follower, and he happily complied.

But somewhere along the line, things took a turn for the worse between us.

I pressed my lips together, thinking about how Elvis had given up the blanket for me. I decided to let him off the hook this time.

The next morning, when I woke up, I found Elvis staring at me with wide eyes.

I was startled.

I thought to myself, could this guy possibly have a crush on me?

But then Elvis spoke up, and his tone was dripping with disdain.

"Maggie, do you even realize that you grind your teeth and snore in your sleep? Are you really a girl?"

"Who grinds their teeth and snores? Don't accuse me of things I didn't do."

I glared at him fiercely.

Elvis wasn't fazed at all. He grinned lazily and slowly pulled out his phone.

I heard a rhythmic, sawing-like sound coming from it.

"Oh, and I accidentally recorded the sound of you farting too. Do you want to listen?"

"Ah~"

I screamed, my face flushed as I lunged for his phone, but he had anticipated my move and dodged. Still, my nails scratched his hand.

Elvis winced and jumped off the bed.

I quickly threw off the covers and jumped down as well, blocking the door to stop him from leaving.

"Give me the phone."

I stretched out my hand. There's no way I could let Elvis keep such embarrassing recordings.

But Elvis was clearly intent on making me miserable.

He shook his head, wearing a smug expression. "Don't even think about it."

He reached out to pull me aside, trying to leave, but I blocked the door with determination.

"If you don't give it to me, you're not going anywhere today."

I knew Elvis had plans. Yesterday, he had received a tearful call from a woman who had been in an ambiguous relationship with him since high school. She was devastated when she found out he was getting married.

Elvis agreed and decided to meet her today.

So, I was sure that in order to leave, Elvis would hand over the phone.

I thought I could hold my ground at the door.

But I overestimated my strength and underestimated Elvis' shamelessness.

"You won't let me out, will you?" Elvis lowered his head and stared at me. "If you don't let me out, I might just kiss you."

He actually leaned in as he spoke.

I couldn't bear the thought of being kissed by Elvis, so I jumped out of the way the moment he leaned in.

With his goal achieved, Elvis smugly walked out of the bedroom.

Since our four elders had a flight today, Elvis and I took them to the airport and only parted ways there.

Elvis was off to meet his confidante.

And I...

Of course, I was going to follow him!!!

As much as I despised Elvis, he was still my husband.

If he cheats right after our wedding, it would not only embarrass me but also make me seem completely unattractive.

Of course, I also had another plan in mind.

If I could catch some 'intimate' moments between Elvis and his confidante...

Hmm...

Then I could divorce him without any hesitation.

The thought of possibly regaining my freedom excited me, and I quickly forgot about my pride.

Elvis and his confidante arranged to meet at a high-end café in the city center.

I sneaked in, trying to stay out of sight. Finally, I found a seat at a dimly lit corner diagonally behind Elvis, where I could see them clearly, but they wouldn't notice me—a prime spot.

With everything ready, I zoomed in my camera, capturing every move Elvis and his confidante made.

In the frame, Elvis' confidante was crying pitifully, as though her heart was breaking.

But that heartless jerk, Elvis, showed no sympathy, not even offering her a tissue.

Feeling a mix of sympathy and frustration, I couldn't help but curse him in my heart.

What a cold-hearted scumbag!

And how blind must that woman be!

The scene was so still. I lost my appetite.

Come on, kiss! Hug!

Do something exciting!

Just as I was lifting my coffee to perk myself up, the woman suddenly became agitated and reached out to grab Elvis' hand.

My excitement spiked.

In my excitement, I lost my grip, and the coffee spilled onto the floor.

The sound echoed crisply through the quiet café.

Elvis and his confidante turned their heads simultaneously, and I quickly crouched down to hide.

As I scrambled to crawl under the table, Elvis walked over and picked me up like a kitten.

I grinned foolishly at Elvis, trying to cover up my sneaky behavior.

Elvis narrowed his eyes, his brows arched, but he unceremoniously snatched the phone from my hand.

Does Elvis like me?