Out With the Old, In With the New

I could only comfort myself and tell myself Morgan was just unromantic and didn’t understand these things. He didn't like replying to messages when he was at home, too.

But a year ago, he'd changed. The moment his phone pinged, he would drop everything to reply immediately. I'd been filled with jealousy at this sight. "Who's that? Why are they texting you so late?"

He would frown, impatient at my question. He wouldn't even bother looking up. "She's a junior who wants to get a job at my college. I need to reply to her quickly so she doesn't get anxious."

My heart sank at those words. So, he knew the other party wouldn't feel good if their messages weren't replied to. He just didn't care whether I, Willow Grant, would feel bad.

I'd always immediately replied to Morgan's messages. This time, however, I hadn't checked my phone at all. I shrugged nonchalantly and said, "I was busy. I didn't look at my phone."

It was what he always said to brush me off. Now, it was my turn to use it on him.

His expression darkened at my words, and he sneered. "All I did was accompany a junior to the hospital. Do you need to throw a tantrum over such a small matter?"

"I'm not." I was telling the truth, but he didn't believe me.

I hadn't worked for two years, and he used that to mock me. "It's necessary for colleagues to help each other, especially since I'm her senior. You might not have worked for some time, but have you forgotten how to be a proper human being?"

He wasn't wrong about me not working, but it was because I was trying to conceive. I needed to get ovulation injections in preparation for pregnancy.

Whenever we argued over the past two years, he would mock me for being cut off from society. Then, he would wait for me to grow insecure, throw a tantrum, and give in to him.

This time, however, I didn't cry or pester him to tell me why he'd married me. All I said was, "You can think whatever you want."

I poured myself a glass of water and turned to head back to the room. Morgan grabbed my arm and pursed his lips before pushing the gift bag into my hand. "This is for you."

"I know."

He'd never given me anything for our anniversaries. Whenever I asked him about it, he would say, "Are you that materialistic?"

I'd long since stopped hoping for gifts. Besides… Iris Lane had shared a photo of herself at a shopping mall two hours ago. Morgan's figure had been in one corner of the picture.

I poured his so-called gifts out of the bag, wanting to laugh when I saw the lipsticks, loose powders, and foundations before me. "I don't wear makeup. You should give these things to someone else."

"Don't be unreasonable, Willow!" He stalked toward me, his expression menacing.

I subconsciously backed away and tripped over something. I fell to the floor, and my stomach started hurting. I cried about wanting to go to the hospital, but Morgan merely sneered at me and said I was making a mountain out of a molehill.

But he followed me when he saw me struggle to my feet and grab my phone before leaving the house. "I'll take you to the hospital."

It was better than taking a cab. Something felt wrong with my stomach, so I didn't turn him down.

After getting into the front passenger seat, I smelled the remnants of food. I saw some crumbs and food packaging in the crevice on the door handle.

Morgan followed my line of sight. His expression shifted. "She has anemia and almost fainted from hunger."

I smiled. "It's fine. You don't need to explain anything."

He was a germaphobe and never allowed me to eat in the car. Once, I'd been starving after doing a medical checkup on an empty stomach. I'd grabbed a chocolate bar from my bag, wanting to take a few bites to alleviate my hunger. Even then, Morgan had kicked me out of the car.

What was there to explain when he treated me and someone else so differently?