Chapter 5

Upstairs, I heard the sound of the car starting.

Unable to resist, I leaned out slightly and caught sight of Julian wrapping his arm protectively around Chloe, guiding her into the car.

As if sensing my gaze, Julian suddenly looked up at the second-floor window.

Our eyes met.

For a moment, he frowned, his lips parting slightly as if he wanted to say something.

I stared back at him coldly, unmoved.

Julian seemed taken aback, likely not expecting me to remain so quiet.

“Julian?” Chloe’s gentle voice called from beside him.

Following Julian’s line of sight, she glanced up and noticed my shadow behind the window.

“Julian…” Chloe’s voice softened further, laced with a delicate sense of grievance. “If you’d like to stay and be with Miss White, it’s alright. I can manage on my own.”

Julian snapped out of his thoughts, quickly masking whatever emotion flickered in his eyes. “It’s nothing. Let’s go.”

Chloe tilted her head slightly, casting a glance up toward the window.

I saw the faint curve of her lips.

She was mocking me for being the wife who couldn’t hold onto her own husband, while he showered her with attention.

A dull, hollow ache gripped my chest.

It didn’t hurt exactly—just a heavy, stifling weight.

Without another glance, I pulled the curtains shut.

The sound of the car pulling away gradually faded into the distance.

I forced myself to push aside the churning emotions and began packing my belongings.

I couldn’t deny that, materially, I had never suffered.

Before the marriage, I had lived a life of luxury in the White family home.

After marriage, that hadn’t changed. Standing in the enormous walk-in closet, staring at the endless rows of clothes, shoes, and bags, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of astonishment.

The walk-in closet was so large it echoed. Rows upon rows of limited-edition designer bags and bespoke clothing stretched endlessly, their sheer number overwhelming.

I began sorting through them, piece by piece.

Most of the bags looked untouched, never used even once. The clothes and shoes were the same—brand new, with tags still attached.

I moved to the jewelry cabinet, which required a fingerprint to unlock. Inside was a dazzling collection of jewelry, luxury watches, and accessories, each more extravagant than the last.

I couldn’t remember how Julian and I had interacted over the course of our five-year marriage, but judging by this closet, Julian was anything but stingy.

That thought gave me a small sense of relief.

If Julian wasn’t the kind to pinch pennies, then the divorce should grant me a substantial settlement.

If love was out of the equation, having a lot of money would do just fine.

The sheer size of the closet and the abundance of items made it impossible to organize everything. In the end, I packed only a few everyday outfits, one exquisite jewelry set, and a women’s wristwatch worth over a million dollars.

As I was about to leave, my foot accidentally kicked a large black bag tucked in a corner.

Curious, I bent down and unzipped it.

The moment I saw what was inside, my face flushed red.

It was filled with several unopened… costumes. A bunny cop outfit, a business lady ensemble, traditional dresses, and even Lolita-inspired attire.

I sifted through them, my cheeks growing hotter with every item.

So, Julian hadn’t been lying.

Before I lost my memory, not only had I been outrageous, but apparently, I had quite the... creative side.

“Well, Evelyn, planning to use those to save our marriage?”

The mocking voice, cold as ice, came from behind me. I stood up abruptly, startled.

Behind me, Julian let out a muffled grunt, clutching his jaw.

I stumbled back in a panic. "You—you... why are you suddenly back?"

Julian glared at me, irritated. "I’ve been back for over half an hour. Of course, I’m here."

It was only then that I realized how much time had passed. Nearly an hour had slipped by since Julian left to drop off Chloe.

Flustered, I hurried to shove the costumes back into the bag and kicked it into the corner like it never existed.

Julian’s gaze darkened, his eyes sharp as they followed my movements. "Evelyn, you’ve gotten smarter. I thought you’d start yelling at me again."

He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me, his tone softening like he was trying to placate a child. "Stop making a fuss. There’s really nothing going on between Chloe and me."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the faint scent on his shoulder stopped me cold.

A sickly sweet fragrance—Chloe’s perfume.

Disgust churned in my stomach. I shoved him away, harder than I thought I could manage. "Get away from me."

Julian’s face darkened, his expression turning icy. "Evelyn, don’t push your luck."

I sneered. "You stink. You reek of another woman’s perfume. And yet, you dare tell me there’s nothing going on between you two?"

Julian instinctively sniffed his shoulder, his expression faltering for a split second.

He looked at me like he had anticipated this, his brow furrowing as though ready to explain.

I had already turned my back on him. "Starting tonight, we’ll sleep in separate rooms."

I headed for the door.

Behind me, Julian’s voice rose, simmering with anger. "Evelyn, haven’t you had enough?"

I threw him a cold laugh over my shoulder. "Not nearly."

Julian surged forward, grabbing my arm with a sharp, forceful motion.

His grip was so strong that pain shot through my arm, draining the color from my face.

“It hurts!”

At the sight of my tear-filled eyes, Julian loosened his hold, a flicker of frustration flashing across his face.

“The perfume rubbed off on me by accident,” he said, his voice laced with exasperation. “I told you, there’s nothing between Chloe and me.”

I remained silent, refusing to meet his gaze.

Suddenly, Julian leaned down and pressed his lips against mine.

A shiver ran through my entire body. Instinctively, I tried to push him away, but no matter how hard I tried, he wouldn’t budge.

His breath grew hotter as his hand gripped my waist, his touch firm and unyielding.

Waves of familiar electricity coursed through my body, and my breathing faltered.

My mind was a chaotic mess, flashes of fragmented memories struggling to surface.

My body, traitorous and weak, began to yield under the heat of his hands. I could almost hear my heart crying in protest.

Clinging to what little willpower I had left, I continued to shove him, desperate to escape. But to Julian, my resistance was nothing more than a teasing game, a prelude to intimacy.

His kiss deepened, the masculine scent of him overwhelming my senses and chipping away at my self-control.

My mind blurred further, and before I realized it, my body had started responding to him involuntarily.

Julian, emboldened by my reaction, intensified the kiss, devouring me with a hunger that left no room for reason.

The world dissolved into a haze of searing heat and overwhelming sensations until a sudden coolness snapped me back to reality.

I opened my eyes and realized, with a jolt of clarity, that Julian had carried me to the bed.

Summoning what was left of my strength, I shoved him hard, my voice trembling with defiance. “Don’t touch me!”

Julian, who had been in the process of unbuttoning his shirt, stumbled slightly at the force of my push, nearly losing his balance.

Anger flashed across his face, sharp and unrelenting. He raised his hand, poised to strike.

Instinctively, my body recoiled, curling into a protective ball.

“Don’t hit me!” I screamed, the words ripping from my throat before I even realized I was speaking.

The air between us froze.

Julian’s hand hung mid-air, motionless. He stared at me, and I stared back, equally stunned.

I didn’t understand why I had reacted like that, nor could I make sense of the sudden, violent rage that had overtaken him.

Curled up on the bed, trembling uncontrollably, I felt small and defenseless.

The anger in Julian’s eyes melted away as he took in my pitiful state.

Standing at the edge of the bed, he opened his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came.

I pulled the blanket tightly around myself, wrapping it like armor, my voice shaking. “Get out. Just… get out. Don’t touch me.”

Julian hesitated, his jaw tightening.

Finally, he muttered, “Get some rest. I’ll sleep in the study.”

Without another glance, he turned and left, shutting the bedroom door behind him with a firm, deliberate click. Moments later, the heavy thud of the study door echoed through the house.

Silence returned to the room.

I collapsed onto the bed, feeling utterly drained.

Cold sweat clung to my back, and my head throbbed with sharp, stabbing pain.

I couldn’t comprehend why Julian, who clearly despised me, continued to provoke me again and again.

Nor could I understand why, if the old me had loved him so much, I now found myself terrified of his temper.

And most puzzling of all—why didn’t Julian want a divorce?

The pain in my head intensified, like needles piercing my skull. Eventually, the exhaustion overtook me, and I drifted into a restless, uneasy sleep.