Chapter 2

The air froze for a moment.

Finally, someone reacted first, raising their glass to smooth things over.

"Well, everyone did foolish things when they were young."

"It's all in the past. Don't dredge up old accounts."

"Besides, Lara treats Mason so well now. No matter how busy she is at work, she comes home. He can use the card however he wants. She drives him everywhere. Now that she's pregnant, she's arranged everything at home perfectly."

Another person chimed in:

"Exactly. A woman like Lara is already rare."

"Parker has a loose tongue and loves to joke. Don't take it to heart."

The private room became lively again, laughter and clinking glasses mixing into a cacophony.

As if that previous exchange had really just been a harmless joke.

I smiled too, but my fingertips were growing colder bit by bit.

They weren't wrong.

Lara treated me well—proper, thoughtful, flawless.

She gave me a watch for our anniversary, called a doctor when I was sick, never missed giving me gifts or clothes.

But when Lara had sex with me, she was always calm, like completing a task.

Always the same rhythm, the same positions, the same silence.

No kissing, no flirting, no eye contact.

From start to finish, she barely made a sound. Even her breathing was as controlled as if she were in a meeting.

After it was over, she'd get up to shower immediately, her retreating figure efficient, without even asking how it was.

At first, I thought it was because she had a reserved personality.

Later, I thought it was because I wasn't good enough.

I tried many times.

Changed to shirts she might like, learned those clumsy, pleasing moves from videos, and on nights when she came home from working late, I'd hold her with a flushed face.

But she'd only frown and remove my hands.

"Stop it. I'm tired today."

"Behave yourself."

Once, I worked up the courage, sprayed on new cologne, and changed into the suit she'd once complimented.

She didn't even look. She just draped her coat over the sofa, her tone flat.

"Don't wear that anymore. It doesn't suit you."

Doesn't suit me.

That night, I washed the hair gel out bit by bit alone in the bathroom, suddenly feeling like the person in the mirror was a ridiculous clown.

And now, Parker leaned next to her, laughing as he talked about their wild times back then.

Lara said "that's enough," but she didn't deny a single word.

I finally understood. She wasn't naturally cold.

She just gave her passion to someone else and saved propriety for me.

"Honey?"

Lara suddenly called me, handing over a glass of warm water.

"You don't look well. Don't overthink it. He's had too much to drink and is talking nonsense."

I took the glass, my fingertip pressing against the warmth of the cup.

Warm.

But it couldn't warm my heart at all.

I looked up at her and asked softly:

"Lara, have you ever truly loved me?"

Her expression froze. She was about to speak.

But Parker beside her laughed first, slowly swirling his wine glass:

"Mason, that question really hurts the mood."

"For women, isn't it enough that she's willing to give you status and bear your child?"

"After all, Lara slept in my arms for so many years and never gave me status."

I looked at him and suddenly laughed too.

"You're right."

"Status really is enough."

Except from this moment on,

I don't want it anymore.