Part 1

Their intimacy was so blatant, so unapologetic, it was as though I didn't even exist.

With a cold, unreadable expression, I walked into the study. When I stepped out holding the documents, I found them already sprawled on the sofa, locked in an embrace. Ethan, my assistant, had his hand slipping under my wife's bathrobe.

Only when they noticed me did they pull apart, but not before Ethan provocatively sniffed his fingers.

Grinning with self-satisfaction, he addressed me.

"Sorry, Mr. Lucas. Ms. Johnson said she just finished her shower and was feeling cold, so I was warming her up. Don't get the wrong idea."

What a ridiculous excuse.

Before I could respond, my wife, Amanda, shot me an impatient glare.

"Aren't you here for the documents? You've got them now—why aren't you leaving? Do I have to tell you to go?"

A sharp, bitter pang pierced my chest.

When did she become this cold, this indifferent?

I remember when we first got married, she would make sure I was packed, remind me of everything, and then send me off to the airport, never letting go of me.

Now, just for a few documents, she was irritated that I was even here.

"Alright, I'll leave now."

I turned to walk away, but Ethan suddenly spoke, his voice laced with challenge.

"Mr. Lucas, don't forget to close the door. I'm worried the noise might disturb the neighbors later."

I frowned, then turned, locking eyes with him.

After a long pause, I smiled.

"You two should keep it down. The sofa's pretty expensive."

Though I had started the provocation, once the words left my lips, he looked genuinely hurt.

"Mr. Lucas, you've misunderstood. I was just about to help Ms. Johnson with her workout, so..."

Amanda's face flushed with fury.

"Lucas, what are you implying?!"

"I was just joking. Why are you getting so worked up?"

I forced a hollow laugh, but inside, the ache was unbearable.

Amanda, standing nearby, shot me a furious glare.

"If you have a problem, take it up with me. Stop picking on Ethan!"

Ethan quickly stood, eager to diffuse the tension.

"Sorry, Ms. Johnson. Don't fight because of me. It's my fault. I'll leave now."

"No need!"

Amanda shoved him back down into her chest, then turned her cold gaze back to me.

"Can you stop making a scene for once?!"

"You had to stir up trouble over a simple document. Are you ever not a hassle?!"

I looked at her, but my expression remained unchanged. I turned on my heel and walked out without another word.

The moment the door slammed shut behind me, a dull, aching pain surged through my chest. I bent over, gasping for air.

Five years.

In five short years, the bond I once had with my wife had crumbled into this.

Is marriage truly the grave of love?

I stood there for what felt like an eternity, collecting myself. Ignoring the muffled sounds from inside, I walked away, the weight of it all pressing heavily on my chest.

At the airport, I received a message from Amanda.

"Look at you! What kind of man are you?!"

"Ethan ran through the rain to report to me, and I just showed him some concern. What's wrong with that? Why can't you be a little more generous?!"

I stared blankly at my phone. Before I had the chance to reply, her impatient call came through.

"Did you not see my message?!"

"Apologize to Ethan right now! He's so upset he can't even enjoy his day!"

On the other end, Ethan exaggerated a dramatic sigh.

"Sorry, Ms. Johnson, I'm really hurt..."

I took a long, deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm.

"Enjoy yourselves."