"Are you ... lost your mind?"

Althea understood perfectly why her best friend reacted that way, her face frozen in disbelief. She had told Lydia everything—though without shedding a single tear, Lydia knew just how deep the pain and disappointment ran. Not all pain needed tears to be felt.

Sometimes, the wound cut so deeply that even tears no longer had the strength to fall.

"You can say whatever you want," Althea replied with a faint smile. "But I think this is the only chance life has given me."

"You have me, Althea. You’re not alone in this world," Lydia snapped, frustrated. "I’ve told you so many times, the Callister family is no place for someone like you. You’re too kind… too gentle to be forced to survive among them."

Althea stared at her now-lukewarm cup of tea. Her hands still wrapped around it, as if whatever warmth remained could calm the storm inside her chest.

"I know," she whispered, barely audible. "If I could turn back time, I would never have wanted to be part of their family."

A bitter smile curved her lips, one meant only for herself—for the life that felt like an endless tidal wave crashing repeatedly.

Lydia let out a long sigh, leaning closer toward Althea, who sat slumped in defeat. "Why are you choosing to wait a whole month? In the end, Daven’s still going to divorce you, isn’t he?"

Althea nodded slowly. "Like I said before… who knows? Maybe sometime within that month, Daven might spend the night with me."

She gave a pained smile, her head bowing lower. "My life is pathetic, isn’t it?"

Silence stretched between them.

"But who knows," Althea said softly. "Maybe God will take pity on me. Maybe I’ll get pregnant."

"Aren’t you afraid?" Lydia asked cautiously. "What if Daven finds out someday?"

"Why should I be afraid? It’s just a night like the ones he spends with other women, isn’t it? I can give him plenty of reasons. I won’t ask anything from him. There won’t be a Callister name tied to me—or my child—ever again."

Lydia exhaled heavily. The despair Althea carried wasn’t baseless. If this was what Althea wanted, then there was nothing Lydia could do but stand by her. "And you’re really sure you want to sell the house?"

"Yes," Althea answered without hesitation.

Lydia looked at her, a mix of admiration and sorrow in her eyes. "But that house—it was your mother’s. You two made so many memories there."

Althea paused for a moment, then offered a faint, wistful smile. "I don’t want to leave any trace of myself in this city, Lydia. I’ve made up my mind. I’m truly leaving."

***

The sky was already dark when Daven Callister unlocked the door, the familiar click echoing through the silence of the grand house—quiet, yet resounding. His black shoes clicked against the marble floor of the foyer, and the dark grey suit he wore looked slightly rumpled. A faint trace of an elegant woman’s perfume lingered on his collar—a remnant of the secret dinner he had just shared with Vanessa.

He sighed, loosening his tie with a lazy tug before stepping further inside. The lights in the main room were still on, casting a warm glow that stood in stark contrast to the cold air outside.

“Welcome home, Daven.”

His steps halted.

Althea stood at the entrance to the dining room, dressed in a simple beige house dress. Her hair was pinned up neatly, with a few soft strands framing her face. She smiled—wide and sincere—her warm brown eyes looking at her husband as if nothing was wrong.

For a moment, Daven just looked back at her. Normally, he would have ignored that greeting. But tonight, he couldn’t brush Althea off so easily.

“I made dinner,” she said. “I heard the weather’s been chilly today, so I thought you’d like some beef soup and warm bread.”

Her words made Daven glance at the dining table. Dinner was set with care: a bowl of steaming soup, homemade bread, and a small plate of salad arranged delicately. A single lit candle stood at the center, casting a soft glow and shadows on the wall.

Daven exhaled quietly. “I already ate.”

Althea nodded. “That’s okay. But it’d be a shame to let it go cold and to waste. You could try a little.”

Her tone was light, not insistent. But for some reason, Daven pulled out a chair and sat down without complaint. Maybe it was fatigue. Maybe it was the hopeful look in Althea’s eyes. Or maybe it was because of the promise he’d made—to treat Althea as his real wife, just for a month.

And dinner with his wife counted, didn’t it?

Althea took the seat across from him, her hands busy pouring water into a glass. “Go ahead,” she said gently. She didn’t touch her own food, just watched him with a calm gaze.

“How was your day?” she asked softly. “Did the morning meeting go well?”

Daven picked up the spoon, slowly tasted the soup, and swallowed without replying.

Althea offered a faint smile. She understood. Daven wasn’t the kind of man who opened up easily, especially not to someone he considered a wife only because of circumstance.

“I heard about the Korean textile merger that’s planning to expand into Mighatan. Aren’t they considered a competitor to Callister Enterprise?”

Daven’s head lifted slightly.

“Not a direct competitor,” he muttered. “But they do have ties to the raw material markets we’ve been targeting.”

Althea nodded thoughtfully. “I thought you’d approach it with an alliance strategy, not competition.”

Daven paused mid-bite. There was a moment of silence before he set the spoon down slowly.

“You understand quite a bit.”

“Some news portals have been covering it. I’ve just been following along a little.”

Daven raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t say anything, but for the first time in a long while, he looked at Althea—not with disdain or irritation, but with a flicker of interest.

Althea smiled, not out of pride, but because she knew she’d finally gotten his attention.

“I want to understand some of the things that make up your world. At the very least… if I’m going to leave one day, I want to go knowing who you really are.”

The word “leave” hung in the air like a heavy night fog.

Daven said nothing. Instead, he picked up his spoon again and finished the soup in his bowl.

A long silence settled between them—comforting in a way neither of them could quite define. Until finally, Daven spoke—his tone as flat as usual, though this time, not as cold.

“In two days, there’s a dinner at the Mighatan Embassy. The Japanese Ambassador will be attending.”

Althea turned to him slowly. “Sounds like an important meeting.”

“The Japanese Ambassador has taken a particular interest in Callister Enterprise. He extended a personal invitation.”

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Althea’s voice carried a hint of enthusiasm.

“They invited me... with a partner.”

She was still smiling. “You can do that, Daven.”

“My wife.”

Althea went quiet.

“I’ve been asked to attend with my wife, Althea.”

Those words rendered her speechless. A sharp, unexplainable ache bloomed in her chest. It had already seemed certain that Daven would go with Vanessa. And why was he telling her this?

Just to remind her of her place? Even without being told, Althea was painfully aware of who she was in this house.

“Get ready to attend the event, Althea.”

Daven rose from his seat, resting a hand on the table before walking toward the stairs. But just before he disappeared from sight, he spoke again—without turning back:

“The soup was good.”

She hadn’t processed what he’d said yet. Not fully. But...

“Am I dreaming?” Althea muttered, pressing her hands to her cheeks, suddenly warm. “Daven... complimented my cooking?”

Oh, but that wasn’t the most shocking part. “And he asked me to go with him? As his wife?”

“I think this tie suits you best.”

Althea picked one from Daven’s extensive collection. She knew he only tolerated her presence, but she pushed her embarrassment aside. What she had planned needed to work—at least until their agreement ended.

After all, they would never see each other again. She might as well pretend she was living in a dream—a romantic fantasy where her beloved husband existed solely for her. And once the dream ended, she would return to her reality: a woman fated to live her life alone.

Althea played her role with quiet grace, never asking for anything in return. As long as Daven didn’t push her away, she took it as acceptance—even if it was reluctant. But every movement she made, every word she spoke, left marks that Daven could no longer ignore.

He raised an eyebrow. “I can dress myself.”

“I know,” Althea said with a small smile. “But allow me to pick something for you today.”

She laid a suit and matching tie on the couch.

“Do whatever you want,” Daven muttered without looking at her. “You’re foolish… wasting your time on something so pointless.”

Althea turned to him, unfazed. Not hurt. Not offended. The small smile never left her lips.

“Maybe. But hold on for this last month.”

“Daven, darling!”

The shrill voice of a woman—greedy and far too enthusiastic—cut through the air, stopping Althea in her tracks.

Daven, too, hurriedly slipped into his blazer as if someone was already waiting for him.

“Is that... Miss Vanessa?” Althea asked.

“I don’t know why she’s here this early.” Daven walked out of the bedroom, followed closely by Althea, who tried her best to keep her composure.

In the living room, Vanessa and Kate Callister were deep in animated conversation. Their faces lit up even more when Daven appeared. But—

“What are you doing here?” Kate sneered, glaring at the woman behind Daven.

Althea chose to smile. “I was just seeing my husband off to work.”

Vanessa laughed out loud, and Kate joined in—mocking her.

“Oh my God! Did you hear that, Vanessa?” Kate said between her chuckles.

“What a shameless woman,” Vanessa scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.

“That’s enough,” Daven cut in, not wanting drama first thing in the morning. “What brings you here this early, darling?”

Vanessa quickly wiped the annoyance from her expression and clung to Daven with a feigned sweetness, ignoring the way Althea looked at them—soft, wistful, resigned. Because this was how it was supposed to be. Vanessa belonged with Daven. Althea was nothing but an outsider in a house that was never hers to begin with.

“I want you to take me to the studio, sweetheart,” Vanessa purred.

Daven looked mildly irritated, but he didn’t argue. There wasn’t much he could do except comply. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Althea watched it all unfold and tried to steel herself. This wasn’t the first time—nor would it be the last—that she had to witness Daven and Vanessa flaunt their affection in front of her.

She should’ve been used to the pain by now.

But still... it hurt.

“Drive safe, Daven,” she said softly.

Her words caught his attention. He paused for a moment and turned his head.

Althea gave him a faint smile. Her warm brown eyes met his, gentle and sincere.

“Have a good day,” she added.

“Let’s go.” Vanessa quickly grabbed Daven’s hand, tugging him toward the door. Her expression tightened with suppressed anger. If it weren’t for her scheduled appointment at the studio, she would’ve spent the rest of the day making sure Althea knew her place.

Damn it. This was all Daven’s fault for giving that woman too much leeway!

The moment they left, Althea let out a long, shaky breath. The ache in her chest didn’t ease. She needed to calm herself. But just as she turned to leave the living room, a harsh slap struck her cheek.

It stung—deeply.

“Know your place, Althea!” Kate screamed; her eyes wide with fury. “You’re a parasite in my son’s relationship. You disgust me, you disgraceful woman!”

Althea touched her burning cheek, stunned.

“Are you blind? Didn’t you see how affectionate they are? They’re perfect for each other, Althea. And you?” Kate jabbed a finger in Althea’s face. “You’re just a pathetic outsider, living off the pity of my mother. You should be grateful we even let you stay here.”

Althea could only lower her gaze, trembling.

“Don’t you ever dream of becoming a part of this family!”

***

“Mom,” Althea whispered. Her cheek still throbbed with pain, but she couldn’t turn away from the decision she’d already made. “Please help me find the strength to carry on.”

She stared at her reflection in the tall mirror. The gown she wore was a gift from Evelyn Callyster—a kind, warm-hearted woman who had been so close to her. Her passing had left a deep emptiness in Althea’s heart. Just like the time she lost her own mother, who took her final breath after suffering a fatal head injury in that accident, Althea hadn’t been able to stop crying.

Evelyn had quietly purchased several elegant dresses for her, saying that maybe one day, Althea would attend a formal event alongside Daven. Sadly, that day had never come.

Until tonight.

The gown was a pale gold, shimmering subtly under the light, flowing over her body with a graceful, understated cut. The neckline was bare, adorned only by a delicate pearl necklace—her mother’s last keepsake.

Althea’s hair was styled into a low chignon, neat yet soft, framing her face. Her makeup was light, just enough to highlight the calm in her eyes and the gentle curve of her smile. She didn’t look like a woman from a modest background. Tonight, Althea Grayson looked every bit like a noblewoman stepped out of a classic tale.

“This is what Daven asked of me… part of my role as his wife, right? At the very least… let this evening pass without incident,” she whispered to herself, trying to summon courage.

When she opened her bedroom door and stepped into the main hall, Daven was already there, standing while checking his phone, as though his world was far too full to notice anything else.

But he froze at the sound of heels tapping against the floor. His eyes lifted, and his expression shifted ever so slightly. He didn’t say a word, but his gaze lingered on her. His hand lowered, the phone forgotten, and a faint crease formed between his brows.

Althea approached, a small smile still gracing her lips. “Have you… been waiting long?”

“No,” Daven replied curtly.

“Is… is this dress too much?” she asked, a bit nervous under the weight of his stare—he had never looked at her quite like this before. “If it is, I can change into something else.”

“There’s no need,” he answered quietly. “Let’s go. The car’s waiting.”

On the way, Daven remained mostly silent. But unlike usual, he didn’t distance himself. He sat calmly beside her, and for the first time, didn’t recoil when Althea instinctively reached out to adjust his tie.

Her hand paused as her fingers brushed against his collar. Their eyes met—just for a moment—but it was enough to make Daven inhale sharply and turn his face toward the window.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Althea said quickly, pulling her hand away to give him space.

Daven still said nothing.

“I won’t stand too close to you tonight,” she said eventually, her voice steady but careful. “Since you’ll soon be marrying Vanessa, I think it’s only right for me to know my place.”

Daven turned slowly, his gaze sharp. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll just stay slightly behind you,” she explained softly, with a faint smile, trying to sound reasonable. “Maybe to your right, a little farther back. Enough for you to know I’m there… but not in the way. I don’t want to cause any misunderstandings.”

Daven closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, his voice low and cold. “If you dare step away from me or pretend, you’re not my wife in front of them,” he said in a quiet, threatening tone, “you’ll regret it.”

Althea froze. She stared at him, uncertain of what she had just heard. “Daven, I only—”

“There’s no ‘only,’” he snapped, his eyes narrowing. “Tonight, you’ll stand beside me. As my wife. As you should.”

A heavy silence fell between them.

Althea lowered her gaze, letting a few strands of hair fall to shield her face.

“…All right,” she whispered at last. “If that’s what you want.”

But inside, one question kept echoing in her heart.

Why? Why is Daven doing this?