Fake marriage, real feelings

What? What kind of aggressive talk was that?

I gave a strained, awkward nod. "Haha."

At that exact moment, Trystan came downstairs, completely oblivious to our conversation. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and took a bite of a sandwich.

Charlie took a sip of her milk and looked up. "How long have you two been married now?"

...

I was genuinely a bit hazy on the details. "A little over two years."

Trystan interjected, "Eight hundred and forty-six days."

Impressive. Why not just give her the decimal points while he was at it?

Charlie nodded as if deep in thought. "You should make a trip back home. Mother says it’s been a while since she saw you both."

Hearing that, I straightened my back slightly. "Right." I turned to Trystan with a sweet, forced smile. "Let's go visit tomorrow."

Trystan nodded. He placed a peeled egg onto my plate and smiled. "Eat this. You need the protein."

Startled, I looked at him and quirked an eyebrow. After a beat, I accepted it and lowered my voice. "Thank you, darling."

This exchange earned us a long, searching look from the two people sitting across from us.

Once they had left, I leaned back in my chair. "Do I really have to go to your house tomorrow?"

Trystan shook his head. "No need. I’ll handle it."

I let out an appreciative "oh."

He stood up. "Let’s go. I’ll drive you to work."

I hurried after him.

Back at the office, my colleague Gideon ran up to me, brimming with excitement. "Theresa, great news."

"What is it?"

He was beaming. "We have a new Director, and he is incredibly handsome."

I wasn't particularly interested. "Oh."

"And he has such a sophisticated name." Gideon swayed his head, his eyes crinkling. "Miles Hollingsworth."

"..."

My voice spiked. "Who??"

Gideon jumped at my reaction and poked me. "Miles. Why don't you think the name sounds good?"

... It wasn't a matter of whether it sounded good or not.

I pressed a hand to my forehead in frustration. "Why fix what isn't broken? Why the sudden change?"

Just as I had mentioned to him, a deep voice resonated from behind me. "Theresa."

I rolled my eyes hard and turned around. "Speak."

Miles said, "In my office."

Beside me, Gideon whispered under his breath, "God, the closer you get, the more handsome he looks."

He was the literal definition of a facade.

Miles stood behind his desk, staring at me. After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Are you... still angry about what happened two years ago?"

I smiled. "Not at all. I’m not that petty."

"Theresa, your marriage to Trystan is a sham, isn't it?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.

I kept a straight face. "It’s very real. I’m just wondering why you’re so obsessed with this?"

Miles shook his head and let out a soft laugh. "You must be lying to me. Trystan isn't an ordinary man. His net worth is a matter of public record. There is no way he would marry you."

I gave a cold laugh. "What exactly are you implying? That I’m not good enough for him?"

"Theresa." He said my name again, looking at me with feigned concern. "You know the gap between you and him. I’m not trying to belittle you, I’m just stating the facts."

I gave a flat "oh." "So what? Why tell me this? Who I marry has nothing to do with you."

Miles fell silent for a few seconds. "It doesn't matter, because you don't love him."

"You don't actually think I still like you, do you?"

He said, "I came back to this country for you. Be a good girl and add me back on Facebook."

I curled my lip into a smile. "Have you considered Lilah’s feelings while saying all this?"

He paused, then continued slowly, "She doesn't matter."

...

I stared at him. "You are shameless. Truly, utterly shameless."

Faced with my blunt insult, Miles didn't get angry. He calmly asked, "Is Trystan forcing you into anything?"

"No. I like him very much."

"You can't fool me, Theresa." He looked down and laughed. When he looked up, the smile had vanished, replaced by a cold intensity. "Leave him. Come to me."

I asked, "Is there something wrong with your head, or are you just naturally despicable? Do you want to play a double game with me? I'm warning you, don't lose your mind, Miles. Otherwise, I won't mind settling the old debt from two years ago."

After my outburst, I turned to leave. Miles suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms.

"You bastard."

He leaned down, placing a finger over my lips to silence me. His voice was thick with irritation. "Theresa, can't you just listen for once?"

He paused, his voice softening again. "In France, I missed you so much. There were times the heartache drove me nearly insane. Do you have any idea? I was wrong, okay. Forgive me this once. Can we start over?"

The moment he finished, Miles abruptly let go of me. He ducked down, clutching the back of his head, his body recoiling.

I turned my head in confusion.

Lilah was standing at the office door, watching us.

Not far from her stood another man. He was leaning against a desk, idly playing with a small slingshot he'd found. Then he looked up and offered a small smile.

Trystan.

"Trystan?" Miles knit his brows, rubbing the back of his head as he lowered his hand. His voice dropped an octave. "Did you throw that?"

Trystan remained leaning against the desk. He didn't answer the question, instead asking one of his own. "Assaulting a married woman in her office... are you trying to be a homewrecker on purpose?"

I tried to guess why Trystan was here, but I suspected it had something to do with Lilah.

Miles looked at him coldly. "Do you two really think I’m that easy to fool?"

"..." Trystan paused, his gaze flicking to Miles’s forehead twice. "Do you actually have a brain injury?"

"..."

Insults weren't the scary part. What was terrifying was Trystan’s tone; it was so sincere, as if he were genuinely concerned about the state of Miles's brain.

Miles was clearly reaching his breaking point. He took a deep breath and sneered, "Mr. Abbott, if you have so much free time, perhaps you should find something to do. You don't belong to this company. You shouldn't be here. Because you’re young, I’ll let that slide. I suggest you leave."

By comparison, Miles was older. He was two years older than Trystan, as was I. When we were freshmen, Trystan was still in the eleventh grade.

Hearing this, Trystan raised the slingshot again, aiming it at him. Miles reflexively raised a hand to block it.

Trystan let out a soft chuckle, tossed the slingshot aside, and stood up. He jerked his chin toward me. "Come outside for a second."

I stepped toward him. Miles reached out to pull me back, but I dodged him quickly, offering a chilly reminder. "Keep your distance."

As I passed Lilah, she smiled at me.

Trystan stood by the company’s reception desk and pushed a bag toward me. I looked at him skeptically.

"My mother made this for you."

I nodded as I realized what it was. "Did she ask why I didn't come by?"

"She did. I told her you were busy with work, so she spent fifteen minutes putting this lunch together for you."

I couldn't help but smile.

Trystan continued, "If your current situation is too much of a headache, you could always come to the Abbott Group."