Bad news: My husband, who is five years older than me, seems to be able to hear my thoughts. Worse news: He can only hear a few words. Me: "Hmm, Elias, the roast beef you made today is a bit tough." What he heard: 【Elias is a bit tough.】 Me: "It's getting late to take Elias out for dinner. How about we go for Peking duck tomorrow instead." What he heard: 【Elias is no match for a duck.】 Me: "If my bestie doesn't hurry up, I'm going to sneak a piece of cake. Gogogo." What he heard: 【Sneak out to eat. Gogogo.】 ... In the last few days, I’ve noticed Elias looking at me with a strange expression—aggrieved, restrained, and despairing. He seems about to shatter. 1 At my best friend's birthday party. I lost a round of Truth or Dare. Under everyone’s pressure, I posted a Facebook status— "Just dropped off my young boyfriend with the six-pack. Lit a cigarette in the car, mind filled with thoughts of my white moonlight ex. Checked my phone, and my washed-up old husband messaged again asking why I’m not home yet. Ugh, so annoying. If he rushes me again, I’m divorcing him." After editing, I hit send without hesitation. My best friend giggled and draped her arm around my shoulder: "My dear princess, aren't you going to block your lawyer husband from seeing this post? Be careful, if he sees it and gets jealous, you might be in trouble when you get home tonight." I shook my head subconsciously: "He won't." My best friend blinked excitedly and patted me firmly: "Who would've thought, Stella. I never expected that boring, rigid, stick-in-the-mud old relic, Elias, would be so easily wrapped around your finger?" Stumped by her question, I paused gloomily for a few seconds, then reached out to spin the bottle on the table. "Today is your birthday, why are we talking about me? Let's keep playing." At my urging, the game quickly moved to the next round. No one took my best friend’s passing remark to heart. Except for me. I stared quietly at the spinning bottle on the table. By some strange impulse, I clicked into my chat with Elias. The latest notification on the screen read: The other party retracted a message. It was two minutes after I posted that Facebook status. Elias sent me two messages in a row, then retracted both. I frowned in confusion and sent a question mark. Elias replied instantly. 【No, it’s nothing, just a slip of the hand. I didn’t mean to rush you, absolutely not.】 【I just wanted to say... that restaurant you love is now delivering. You’ve been using a lot of energy, do you want me to order you something to replenish it?】 He paused, then added. 【...I, I'll order a meal for two.】 I glanced at my buzzing phone and replied while playing the game. 【Not now, my mouth is numb and spicy from all the food, it’s a bit inconvenient.】 Elias suddenly went quiet. 2 The party ended at 11 PM. My best friend thoughtfully called her college cousin to be my designated driver. The alcohol went to my head, and in my daze, I couldn't help but recall the bits and pieces of this marriage. Elias and I were in an arranged marriage. At the time, my parents asked me to choose between two stepbrothers from the Xi family. One was the calm and reserved Elias, five years my senior. The other was Elijah, my age, lively and outgoing. Initially, I chose the younger brother, who had a similar personality and shared interests with me. But on the day of the engagement, Elijah overslept after partying with his friends the night before. His car broke down on the way over. When he finally arrived at the venue, he opened the box containing his engagement suit, only to find Crayon Shin-Chan pajamas inside. This series of events made the usually proud me lose face in front of everyone. In my anger, I grabbed Elias, who was standing beside me dressed like a peacock and looking perfectly suited for the role of the groom. Then, I kissed him hard on the lips, tasting the faint peppermint flavor in his mouth. I still can't forget Elias's expression—shocked, angry, astounded. He looked like a good man who was being forcibly taken but was helpless to resist. Under everyone's gaze, he pursed his lips tightly, pointed a trembling finger at me, and said word by word: "I am a decent man from a good family, an innocent young lad..." Me: ... And so, Elias and I were united by a strange turn of events. Over these two years of marriage, I’ve discovered that Elias has a very different attitude toward this marriage than his rigid appearance suggests. He is extremely indulgent with me, not caring who I go out with or what time I come home at night. Even if I stay out until 2 AM, all I get is the living room light left on, a bowl of hangover soup with an increasingly strong aroma on the table, and a nonchalant remark: "You have work tomorrow, go to sleep early." Although we started as an arranged marriage, Elias is tall, handsome, and capable. He’s incredibly service-oriented, reliable, and has plenty of money. I've gotten used to his presence, his habits, and I even get butterflies from his inadvertent touches. But when I think about my best friend’s analysis of his personality and his actual attitude toward me, I can’t help but feel distressed. Elias seems to regard our relationship merely as an arranged marriage. He fulfills his duties and obligations as a husband, but has no romantic feelings for me. 3 The more I thought about it, the more my headache grew. I stumbled as I pushed open the front door, suddenly sensing something was wrong. Usually, the house is brightly lit, but tonight only a single chandelier in the living room was on. The entire house seemed shrouded in an oppressive atmosphere of resentment, thick and damp, like it could breed a hundred evil spirits. I shook my head, laughing at myself for drinking too much and hallucinating. But when I turned around, I was startled and jumped by Elias standing in the shadows behind the door. Elias was shirtless, looking like he had just returned from a run outside. His cool white skin was flushed an unnatural red, his abdominal muscles trembling slightly with his breath, and his wrists had several scrapes oozing blood droplets. I patted my chest and said irritably: "Elias! What are you doing standing here like a ghost?" Elias's dark eyes locked onto me. After a long silence, he mechanically moved his lips. "You're back. I'm here waiting for you to come home." His voice was hoarse, his tone flat like dead water, sounding for all the world like a loyal husband waiting for his wife who returned late from drinking. I sniffed. Besides the citrusy hormonal scent on him, I seemed to smell an out-of-place scent of skincare products, very much like my whitening and brightening serum. Elias pursed his lips in forbearance, his dark gaze bypassing me to look gloomily out the window. I followed his gaze and saw the retreating figure of my best friend's cousin. I subconsciously explained: "Oh, that person is..." Before I could finish, Elias interrupted me hurriedly, his voice trembling slightly. "Person? ...Where is a person? What person? I was just thinking about work matters, I didn't see any person, completely didn't see anyone, where is there a person..." I was silent for a moment, examining Elias with a strange look. Elias immediately turned his head to avoid my gaze and whispered. "Why don't you change your shoes first... I, I'll get you a glass of water." With that, without waiting for my reply, he fled into the kitchen. The sound of water boiling soon came from the kitchen. But besides the sound of water boiling, there seemed to be other strange noises mixed in. I listened carefully. Hmm, when did Elias buy another kettle? And one that made such desperate and miserable crying sounds. So noisy. 4 Half an hour later. Elias finally emerged from the kitchen. Besides hot water, he also brought a late-night snack. I leaned comfortably on the sofa, waiting for him to serve me. The light from above the coffee table annoyed me, and I waved my hand vigorously. "The living room lights are too yellow. It's hurting my eyes. So annoying." As soon as I spoke, Elias paused. Boiling water splashed out. Instantly scalding the back of his hand red. Yet he seemed not to feel the pain. Instead, he pressed hard on the burn on his hand as if punishing himself. After a few seconds of eerie silence, he murmured softly: "Is the lighting... really all you wanted to talk about?" I tilted my head in confusion: "Elias, are you talking to me? What did you say? My headache made me miss it..." Elias turned away, brought the water glass over, and forced a stiff smile: "No, nothing. Drink some water." I blinked, my gaze falling on an open, exquisite gift box on the table. Inside the box lay a chain with several large, sparkling diamonds embedded in it, and two silver letters—X and W—hanging at the end. Elias wasn't the kind of romantic man who would buy a necklace as a gift. So, it's very likely that this necklace was given to him by someone else. I hesitated for two seconds, then whispered sourly: "Where did this necklace come from? Such an old-fashioned style and design, looks like something older people would buy to wear..." As soon as the words fell, the air in the living room suddenly solidified. Elias's breathing stopped abruptly, as if someone was choking him. I sensed something strange and looked up at him instinctively. Under the glaring light, Elias stood stubbornly, looking shattered, his eyes empty, like a pathetic puppy abandoned by its owner. This reminded me of our wedding night. At that time, Elias was on the verge of losing control. His eyelashes trembled, his voice choked up, and warm tears fell like broken beads onto my collarbone. At the very last moment, he buried his face in the crook of my neck and said huskily and seductively: "Stella, it feels so good..." ...
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