After my miscarriage, Arthur Hastings didn't even ask how I was doing. Instead, he took his junior colleague, Aria Clementine, out for a spicy barbeque.

You only lost a child, he said. "Aria, on the other hand, lost the joy of eating spicy food!"

The two of them were having a grand time, chatting and laughing.

Then Aria made a high-profile declaration of love to him on Instagram: [My nervousness is yours, my love letters are yours, my sleepless nights are yours, the April mornings are yours.]

I replied in the comments: [The man I don't want is yours, too.]

.....

During my period, I experienced unbearable abdominal pain and went to the hospital for a checkup, only to discover I had a chemical pregnancy.

When I told Arthur the results, he just said, "There will be others," and hastily hung up the phone.

He was always been so sparing with his words.

Even the loss of a life couldn't stir any emotion in him.

However, this morning, when he received a call from Aria, his usual composure was replaced with uncontainable joy.

Aria invited him to look at houses with her, and Arthur agreed without hesitation.

He turned to me and explained, "Aria just got back and isn't familiar with the area. I need to fulfill my duties as a host."

Aria was Arthur's junior at university. After graduating, she went abroad to further her studies and recently returned to Mayby.

Since her return, she had captured Arthur's complete attention.

In truth, in Arthur's heart, I was merely his wife, not his beloved.

A wife was a symbol to present to the world, a facade for appearances.

My profession as a university lecturer did indeed complement his image.

A beloved, on the other hand, was his flesh and blood, his soulmate.

I understood the distinction between the two, but I naively believed that effort could bridge the gap, so I always tried my best to cater to his preferences.

He was a man of few words, so I filled the silence with mine. He disliked dealing with trivial matters, so I took on the responsibility of managing the household, allowing him to focus on his career.

But he always remained distant.

Just now, I even detected a hint of relief in his words of comfort.

A wave of bitterness washed over me. It seems that in Arthur's eyes, I am not worthy of being the mother of his child.

Five years. Even a stone would have warmed up a little after being held for that long.

Suddenly, I felt like everything had been in vain.

After dinner, I went straight to bed.

In the middle of the night, I was woken by a crashing sound from the living room.

Arthur had night blindness, so I always leave a light on for him when he comes home late.

I thought this gesture would make him feel the warmth of home, but he never seemed to care.

Tonight, before going to bed, I turned off all the lights.

Without that worry on my mind, I slept more soundly than ever before.

Arthur walked into the bedroom, switched on the bedside lamp, and said in a slightly irritated tone, "Why didn't you leave the light on? I almost fell just now."

I simply replied, "Hmm," without offering any explanation.

In the past, I would have responded with ten sentences for every one of Arthur's, but not anymore.

Perhaps sensing my indifference, he initiated a conversation. "Aria was there when you called today, so I couldn't talk much about our private matters."

I nodded. "Indeed."

He seemed surprised by my calmness, his gaze lingering on my face for a moment. After a pause, he added, "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"

I shook my head. "No."

Arthur got into bed from the other side, pulled back the covers, and turned his back to me.

His voice was devoid of any warmth.

"That's good."

I took some time off from the department, planning to rest for a few days.

I would use this time to gather myself and then move out.

At noon, I received a call from Arthur.

"Charlotte, don't go home after class, go directly to the restaurant," he said, then sent me the location of a restaurant.

I had come across this restaurant online before, and a long time ago, I begged Arthur to go there with me.

He refused, saying he couldn't handle spicy food.

I carefully tried to persuade him, "How about we order two dishes, and you can have the non-spicy one?"

He ran his hand through his hair, his tone impatient. "You need me to accompany you for everything. Can't you eat by yourself? Is this how you teach your students?"

He was genuinely angry.

So, I never brought it up again.

When I arrived at the restaurant, there was a strange woman beside Arthur.

Arthur stood up and introduced her, "This is my junior, Aria Clementine. Aria said she wanted to meet you."

So, it seemed I had to rely on another woman to get to eat here finally.

Aria beckoned to me. "Charlie, come on, we're just waiting for you."

Her tone was so warm and inviting as if she were the hostess.

"I told Arthur we absolutely had to meet you, to see what kind of beauty could capture his heart."

She finished with a playful tilt of her head towards Arthur.

Arthur's lips curved into a smile, his tone seemingly reproachful but unable to hide his indulgence. "Aria, didn't we agree not to tease me about this?"

The two of them carried on their lighthearted banter, utterly oblivious to anyone else around them.

Arthur always used to complain that I talked too much, and I assumed he preferred quiet. Now, it seemed he didn't dislike noise; he just didn't like me making it around him.