DIABAIKAN MENTANG-MENTANG HANYA ANAK PANCINGAN

MILLY.

The candle had melted halfway down before I finally accepted that Isaac wasn’t coming home early.

I stared at the small birthday cake sitting in the middle of the dining table, the pink frosting beginning to sink under the heat of the untouched candles. Twenty-five.

What a pathetic way to spend it.

The house was silent except for the ticking clock on the wall and the faint hum of the air conditioner.

It was too big, too cold and too empty for a place that was supposed to belong to a married couple.

My phone screen lit up for the hundredth time that night.

11:47 PM.

No calls.

No text.

Not even a careless “happy birthday.”

I let out a slow breath and reached for the glass of wine beside me, but the sound of a car pulling into the driveway froze my hand midair.

Headlights flashed through the curtains.

Finally, my chest froze with something dangerously close to hope as I stood up too quickly, smoothing invisible wrinkles from my dress.

The black satin hugged my waist perfectly. I had spent two hours getting ready earlier like some stupid woman still trying to impress her husband after five miserable years.

The front door swung open before I could reach it. The sharp scent of alcohol hit me first. Then Isaac walked in.

My smile died instantly.

His tie hung loose around his neck, his dark hair messy like impatient fingers had been buried in it repeatedly.

His white shirt was wrinkled, the top buttons undone and there, painfully obvious under the chandelier light, were stains of deep red lipstick near his collar.

Not one..Several…Something inside me folded quietly.

Isaac barely looked at me as he tossed his car keys onto the counter.

“Why are you standing there like a ghost?” he muttered.

I swallowed hard. “You’re late.”

He shrugged out of his suit jacket carelessly. “I noticed.”

“You promised you’d come home early today.”

No response.

He walked past me toward the kitchen like I hadn’t spent the entire evening waiting for him. My nails dug into my palm.

“Isaac.”

That made him pause.

Slowly, he turned his head toward me, irritation already darkening his face.

“What?”

I hated how small my voice sounded. “Where were you?”

A humorless laugh left him. “Seriously?”

“You’re drunk.” I stepped closer before I could stop myself. “And your shirt…”

“Don’t start.”

My eyes stayed fixed on the lipstick stains burning into the white fabric. My stomach twisted violently.

“Whose lipstick is that?”

The silence stretched for one second.

Then two.

Then Isaac looked at me like I had become unbearably exhausting.

“You’re not in the position to question me, Milly.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

I blinked slowly. “Excuse me?”

He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted the cap open. “Don’t act like a real wife now. It doesn’t suit you.”

My throat tightened.

Five years.

Five years married to this man, and somehow he still knew exactly where to stab.

“I waited for you,” I whispered. “It’s my birthday.”

“And?”

The single word sliced through the room. I stared at him, wondering how someone could sound so empty.

Isaac drank from the bottle before speaking again. “Did you really think I wanted to spend my night pretending to enjoy a forced marriage?”

My fingers curled against my sides.

“There it is,” I said quietly. “The truth you only say when you’re drunk.”

“No.” He smirked faintly. “The truth I’m finally tired of hiding.”

My chest rose sharply.

“You think because your family sold you to mine, you suddenly gained authority over me?” he continued. “Your father’s company was drowning in debt, Milly. Everyone knew it. This marriage was nothing more than a business alliance.”

Each word dragged me backward into memories I hated.

My father shook Isaac’s father’s hand with relief in his eyes. My mother was crying happy tears while I stood there numb in a white dress I never chose.

The headlines calling it a merger between two powerful families.

Nobody asked what I wanted. Nobody cared either.

I forced myself to meet Isaac’s gaze. “I never asked for this marriage either.”

“Yet you benefited from it.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Benefited?”

The word tasted disgusting.

I took a slow step toward him. “Do you know what your family calls me behind your back?”

Isaac looked bored already.

“Your sisters treat me like trash.” My voice cracked despite my effort to steady it. “Your mother acts like I trapped you. Every dinner feels like a punishment.”

“And whose fault is that?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You should’ve learned your place from the beginning,” he said coldly. “Instead, you keep acting like this marriage means something.”

The ache in my chest sharpened violently. Because that was the humiliating part. A piece of me had wanted it to mean something. Even after the cold nights.

Even after the endless business trips.

Even after the way he touched me like an obligation instead of a desire. I still waited for him tonight.

Like an idiot.

“You forgot my birthday,” I said softly.

Isaac exhaled impatiently and walked toward the staircase.

Just like that. Done with the conversation. Done with me. Something snapped.

“Who was she?”

He stopped midway up the stairs. I could hear my heartbeat pounding inside my ears.

“The woman whose lipstick is all over your shirt.”

My voice trembled with rage now. “Who was she, Isaac?”

For the first time that night, his expression hardened dangerously.

He walked back down the stairs slowly.

A chill crawled up my spine. When he stopped in front of me, the air between us felt razor thin.

“You really want to do this tonight?”

“Yes.”

His jaw flexed once. Then suddenly his hand grabbed my chin hard enough to hurt. I gasped.

“You’re becoming annoying.”

Pain shot through my jaw as he forced my face upward. Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Not in front of him.

Not again.

“You should be grateful I even came back to this house at all,” he muttered.

My breathing turned uneven. “Then leave.”

The words slipped out before fear could stop them. Isaac went still.

For one dangerous second, neither of us moved. Then his grip tightened painfully.

“What did you say?”

I looked straight into his eyes despite the fear clawing through me.

“If you hate this marriage so much,” I whispered, “then leave.”

The slap came so fast my body barely processed it.

A sharp crack split through the room.

My head snapped sideways violently, and suddenly the floor rushed toward me. Pain exploded through my cheek as I hit the marble tiles.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

I couldn't think. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

Above me, Isaac stared down with dark unreadable eyes, his chest rising heavily.

Neither of us spoke. The candles behind me flickered weakly.

One by one, they burned out.

My birthday ended in darkness. Isaac grabbed his car keys from the counter again.

“You wanted honesty?” he said coldly. “Here it is.”

My fingers trembled against the floor. He opened the front door. Then he looked back at me over his shoulder, his expression merciless.

“The woman I was with tonight…” His lips curled slightly. “Actually knows how to keep me happy.”

The door slammed shut behind him.