I lay awake all night, and as dawn broke, he pulled me close in his sleep.

I felt only revulsion and coldly turned my back. Eric, looking wounded, asked, "Mia, why so cold today?"

Normally, we'd cuddle for ages; I mean, the guy has got the looks and the body—I've always been happy to invest in him.

But now, everything's changed.

I made an excuse and got up; he suspected nothing.

He said he had a major deal to close today and might be late, telling me not to wait up.

He kissed my forehead and murmured, "Soon, we'll have our dream home."

That night, dressed as a waitress with a hat and mask to avoid recognition.

I was bracing myself, hoping it was all a misunderstanding, but right at the entrance, I overheard some snickers.

"Eric and Mandy were the golden couple back then. If she hadn't gone overseas, they'd likely be married by now."

"Man, cut it out—Eric's hitched now."

Another chipped in, "Eric's been burned before, that's why he rushed into this marriage. Without Mia Mark's eyes reminding him of Mandy, would he even bother with plain Jane?"

My heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, I texted Eric: [Where are you?]

[Babe, I'm out with clients—don't wait up, get some rest.]

Then a sweet voice piped up, "Oh, Eric, is that true?"

Eric replied, "Sorry, folks, gotta head home."

Laughter erupted around him.

"Eric's on a tight leash, huh?"

"Yeah, home by midnight, every night."

A wave of laughter swept through as I pushed the door open, tray in hand.

Eric slammed his wine glass down, pulling Mandy in close with a smirk. "It was just a bit of fun, you think she was anything special?"

"It's the same old routine in bed, dull as dishwater. I got bored ages ago."

"Can you believe her? Walking around in hundred-buck sneakers, yet splurging on 12,000-dollar kicks for me, all while juggling three jobs?"

The guys around him roared with laughter, egging him on.

"Seriously, she's all skin and bones, like a middle schooler—definitely not Eric's type."

"Eric was just messing around with her."

"Ha, let's drink to that!"

He casually raised his glass. "Tonight, we're not stopping till we drop!"

It felt like my heart had been ripped open, bleeding out.

Tears welled up in my eyes. The man who was so tender just the night before, now he was dismissively trashing me.

My grip slipped on the wine bottle, splashing some onto that girl.

"Ah!"

"What are you doing? Do you know how much this dress costs? Think you can afford to replace it?"

Mandy stood up, screeching, her voice filled with fury.

My eyes started to burn, and I looked down, afraid he'd recognize me.

I stuttered out an apology, desperate and flustered.

"I'm so sorry, it was an accident."

Tears streamed down my face, free of charge.

Eric Pike... Eric Pyke? From the wealthy Pyke Group in Covelle? I once teased him for being one letter different from a rich kid. He'd hang his head, claiming he was just a poor boy from the countryside, hoping I wouldn't hold it against him.

The way he pulled the pity card, I genuinely felt for him and never brought it up again.

The girl, now livid, pointed a pale finger at me. "Call your manager over here, I want an explanation!"

I kept apologizing, but Eric seemed to recognize my voice, telling me to look up.

Our eyes met—his red with panic, and at that moment, he knew he was caught.

He nervously touched his nose and muttered under his breath.

"Seeing things?"

"Eric, look what she did to the dress you got me!" The girl clung to his arm, sitting close.

"Forget it, it's just a dress."

He dismissed it carelessly.

But Mandy wasn't having it, insisting I pay for the damage.

"But it was a gift from you..."

Eric, annoyed, gestured dismissively again. "I'll just buy you another one," which finally silenced her.

My heart ached—yeah, just a dress.

A dress that could have bought a condo in Covelle, instead of us cramming into that tiny 320-square-foot rental for years.

No more rushing to find a new place whenever the landlord decided to sell or raise the rent, scattering like lost souls across the city.

Last year, when the rent spiked, he was away, and I scrimped to save a grand a month, moving in a downpour while sick with a fever.

I kept it to myself to spare him the worry, and when he returned, he just wrapped me in his arms, guilt-ridden, murmuring, "Honey, you've worked so hard."

At that moment, I believed our hearts were enough to carry us through.

Together, we'd make it—eventually, there'd be bread on the table.

That stormy night, I ran to a bike-share, soaked to the bone, suddenly realizing I no longer needed to struggle alongside him for a home.

The rain washed over my face, pulling me back to three years ago.

That day, also stormy, was rough at work—boss on my case, colleagues scheming, and I'd lost a major project.

Dazed on the street, I nearly didn't see the car coming.

He yanked me back just in time, and when I turned, there was his handsome face, calming me with his gentle tone. I fell for him right then.

We hit it off, and in no time, we rushed into marriage.