Evelyn returned to 9Bliss Garden, finding Jason hadn’t come back yet. She brewed a cup of fruit tea and changed into comfortable loungewear before finally taking a moment to check her phone.

There were thirty-four missed calls from Agnes and dozens of WhatsApp voice messages. She had chosen not to respond to anyone in Lycheeville; she didn’t want to explain herself anymore.

Just then, a sharp ringtone interrupted her thoughts—it was an unfamiliar number from Riverton. Her hand trembled as she pressed the answer button. “Hello—”

“Eve.”

A rich male voice flowed through the line, familiar yet distant.

“It’s me,” Adrian’s tone carried a heavy sense of guilt and remorse.

It had been three years since she had last heard his voice, the first time since marrying Jason. Evelyn gripped her phone tightly, her hand shaking as she struggled to end the call and block the number, but she failed to press the right button twice in a row.

“How have you been lately? When will you be in Lycheeville? I can send someone to pick you up at the airport,” Adrian said, his voice dripping with tenderness.

“Adrian! What role did you play when Victor delivered me to Jason’s bed three years ago? You were so indifferent then; why do you care about me now?”

Her anger and hatred, suppressed for three long years, burst forth like a flood breaking through a dam.

“Your engagement has nothing to do with me. Why would I attend? Unless my mother dies, I will never return to Lycheeville, nor face the hypocritical faces of the Johnson family!”

“My only regret in thirty years is giving you up three years ago. Eve, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for my mistake.”

Even as she hurled the most venomous words at Adrian, he bore no resentment towards her.

“Every time I hear you speak, it makes me sick. Don’t ever disturb me again!” Evelyn snapped, ending the call abruptly.

Memories flooded her mind, scenes from the past replaying vividly.

Her feelings for Adrian had long vanished in the despair of three years ago. Now, they were on separate paths; he was about to get engaged, and his feigned concern for the past only disgusted her further.

As midnight approached, Jason finally returned home. Just as she turned off the bedroom light and hadn’t yet fallen asleep, she caught a strong scent of alcohol wafting through the air.

Then, powerful arms wrapped around her.

“Eve.”

Jason whispered in her ear, sounding completely intoxicated. He usually called her by her full name.

Annoyed and wanting to avoid Jason’s advances, she feigned sleepiness. “Leave me alone; I’m exhausted.”

“Get up and talk to me,” he insisted suddenly, pulling her upright and switching on the bedside lamp.

“Go ahead; I’m listening,” she said, curling under the covers without even glancing at him.

Jason squinted through his drunken haze, placing his right hand on her flat stomach. “When will you get pregnant?”

“Let nature take its course.”

If Jason hadn’t been drunk, Evelyn wouldn’t have bothered to respond at all. But with a drunk person, she could only answer his questions.

“Having a baby will tie you to me; you won’t be able to run away.” He pressed his forehead against hers, mumbling drunkenly, “Do you know I’ve always lived in conflict—wanting to—but also—”

Just as he trailed off, he collapsed heavily onto the bed, face down, burying his face in the covers, half of his mouth and nose obscured, breathing heavily.

Evelyn sensed something was off and gently lifted Jason’s head, placing a pillow underneath to help him breathe better.

Although he managed to breathe more easily, one of his hands remained firmly gripping her wrist. She tried to pry it free, but her strength was no match for his, so she surrendered to his hold.

Feeling exhausted from sitting up, she lay down beside him. With all the lights off, she rested her head against Jason’s chest, savoring the rare moment of warmth. The intoxicating scent of alcohol enveloped her senses, drawing her into a state of blissful intoxication. If only time could freeze at that moment.

When Evelyn woke up, bright sunlight flooded the room, and Jason was nowhere to be found. She picked up her phone, but he hadn’t left any messages. Living under the same roof, sharing a bed, engaging in the most intimate acts, yet their communication felt less than that of ordinary friends.

After boiling two eggs and heating up a cup of milk, she finished her breakfast and drove to the dealership to pick up her car.

Every Saturday, she used to work overtime at the TV station, helping the news team with voiceovers, editing scripts, and planning the upcoming week’s work. But recently, with too many worries on her mind and the instability at the station, she had lost any motivation to work extra hours.

When Jean called to invite her out for lunch, she quickly found an excuse to decline. With the New Year approaching in just over ten days, she had three Spring Festival galas to host in addition to her regular appearances.

After leaving the dealership, Evelyn didn’t rush back to 9Bliss Garden. Instead, she stopped by the supermarket to buy some daily necessities before heading to West Lake. Since renting the small place, she had never actually stayed there.

As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the stale air of an uninhabited space. She opened all the windows, mopped the floors, and laid out the bed linens she had bought a few days ago. Lying on the 1.5-meter wide wooden bed, she felt a sense of relaxation she had never experienced before. This was her own private world.

She silently vowed to save enough for a down payment within five years to buy her own home, even if it was less than fifty square meters; it would still be a true refuge for her.

Just then, her phone rang, breaking her reverie. Seeing it was Jason, she didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Father just had a heart attack and was admitted to the hospital. You need to come with me to visit him in half an hour.”

Jason’s voice still carried the remnants of a hangover, and after delivering the news, he abruptly hung up.

The busy tone in her ear reminded Evelyn that she would once again have to put on a show in front of the Stark family as Jason’s wife.

When they arrived at the hospital, Evelyn quickly learned that the elder Mr. Stark's condition was quite serious.

He had been admitted directly to the intensive care unit, and despite ten different medications, there had been no improvement.

Outside the ICU, Mr. Stark’s butler, a few close confidants, his third son and daughter-in-law, and his eldest grandson Cedric sat in silence. Each wore a solemn expression, appearing concerned for the old man's condition, yet what truly weighed on their minds was the inheritance—the question of how Mr. Stark's vast fortune would be divided if he were to pass.

Evelyn kept her head down, closely following Jason and barely daring to put any weight on her footsteps.

Jason took a seat directly across from Cedric, with a three-meter-wide aisle between them, a clear symbol of the boundaries in their relationship.

Evelyn settled into the chair to Jason’s left, quietly absorbing the Stark family's conversation.

It turned out that the elder Mr. Stark had recently developed a taste for opera and often praised a particular soprano.

This morning, while enjoying dim sum with her, the soprano's husband had burst into their private room in a fit of rage, shattering teacups and plates everywhere.

The elder Stark returned home increasingly agitated, and less than an hour later, he suffered a heart attack.