The Marriage Equation

I refused.

This trip back home was primarily for my health, a chance to recuperate and receive proper treatment.

I barely stepped outside, isolating myself from the world. My parents were abroad, and they hadn't returned in a long time. Even Cassidy Rivers, the housekeeper, had been sent off to the villa in the southern part of town.

It was quiet, just the way I liked it.

The only visitor I had was Howard. He brought an assortment of food along with flowers and fruit. I couldn't help but tease him, "This isn't a hospital. You're making me feel like I'm gravely ill."

As I worked at my computer, he sat across from me with a cup of coffee in hand. He occasionally played games and sometimes complained about a new female hire at his company who relentlessly pursued him, making him hesitant to go to work lately.

I wondered if he was trying to annoy me, as he seemed to grow more animated with each story he told.

I shot back coolly, "Is she pretty?"

He nodded.

"Then why don't you just accept her advances?"

He sighed deeply, his head down. "But she's not as pretty as you."

He had that same playful smile. He was always patient with me, never complaining about my cold demeanor.

Eventually, his chatter began to annoy me, and I sometimes tossed him and all his belongings out the door in frustration. I couldn't resist mocking him, "If you want to accept her, just go for it."

He stammered, clearly losing his confidence. "I just... wanted to see if you cared."

I shut the door in his face without a second thought. Who was worth my concern anyway?

Later on, Howard's company began thriving, and he finally felt he could hold his head high among the Brookes. Unlike his brother, Noah, who was born the heir of the Brookes and didn't have to lift a finger to climb the ladder of success.

One day, I agreed to attend a business dinner with Noah. We weren't divorced yet, and to the outside world, we still seemed like an enviable couple.

When his car pulled up to my place, I was struggling to walk in heels I hadn't worn in ages. He rolled down the window, his expression dark as he said, "Get in."

I didn't look at him, preoccupied with my ride-sharing app.

He wouldn't take no for an answer. He stepped out, lifted me effortlessly, and placed me in the passenger seat.

"Do you hate me that much?" he asked, his voice rough and eyes slightly red.

I instinctively raised my hand to block his lips as he leaned closer.

"Teagan! Don't forget that we're not divorced yet!"

I slapped him hard across the face, and his fair skin flushed instantly.

"After all this time, it seems like you've gotten stronger."

I turned my head away, refusing to meet his gaze.

All the while, he winced, rubbing his cheek and occasionally glancing at me as he drove. He transferred a sum of money to my account, claiming it was for me to start my own studio. He had even ordered a room full of roses to celebrate my successful return.

I accepted the money without a second thought.

"Stay out of matters regarding Lillian from now on."

His words cut through me like ice.

I raised an eyebrow. "Fine by me."

He didn't notice the small smile that crept onto my lips.

The Brookes were the wealthiest family in Sylverwood, worth billions, while my family, the Reeds, though not rich, had enough standing to be considered respectable. Marrying him was a match made in heaven, a union of equals.

If it came down to it, should he choose to divorce me, I would cause a ruckus that would shake the city. That would make any future resolution even more difficult.

So, for the sake of our mutual benefit, I intended to make the most of my position as Mrs. Brooke.

As the dinner progressed, Noah disappeared for a while. When he returned, there were glaring lipstick stains on his shirt.

I couldn't help but smile behind my hand, knowing Lillian Carroll's tactics were so predictable. I was too tired to retaliate.

It was a blatant show of defiance. When others noticed, the atmosphere grew tense, and I stepped in to ease the situation.

"Oh, clumsy me, leaving those marks on your shirt," I said as I pulled him toward the restroom.

I took out some wipes and began to remove the lipstick stains.

He leaned closer, whispering, "Teagan, don't be mad."

When the wipe accidentally brushed against his neck, he shivered.

With a cool expression, I replied casually, "Why would I be mad? It's not like I have feelings for you."