Chapter 0003

Janet’s POV

Henry and Paul exchanged glances in bewilderment. They had obviously never seen anything like this before.

I smiled bitterly. It was the first time I’d seen it too. How could anyone cling to another woman's husband like this?

“Uh… You okay, Flora?” Henry asked hesitantly, his voice tentative, like he was walking on thin ice.

Flora blinked, then smiled, but it was the kind of smile you wear when you want people to stop asking questions. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Henry.” Her voice was soft, almost fragile.

For a moment, I wondered if she believed her own words. Because clearly, she wasn’t ready to let go of Rowan.

Paul looked more uneasy now, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he spoke, “I know you and Rowan are close friends, but… maybe you should consider his wife’s presence?”

Flora’s eyes widened slightly, as though she’d just realized the situation wasn’t entirely appropriate.

She looked at me, blinking her big eyes as if apologizing, before reluctantly pulling away from Rowan’s embrace. “I’m so sorry, Janet. I tend to be… clingy sometimes. After my husband passed, I... I can’t help but seek physical comfort from others. It’s just psychological. It’s trauma, you understand, right?”

I took a slow sip from my teacup, letting the silence hang in the air for a few moments before I looked up at her with a calm, collected smile. "Of course, I understand. It's no big deal. Last time, there was a client who... hugged my husband’s thighs and cried while trying to take her clothes off. I remember when security had to carry her out of the cocktail party. Seems she might have the same... condition as you, doesn’t she?”

Amid her frozen smile and the stunned gazes of others, I casually passed the plate of lime salmon to Flora. “I’ve heard Omega-3 helps with emotional stability. Since there’s no medicine, maybe try something edible instead of depending on human comfort toys.”

Flora’s face flushed a mix of red and white, her lower lip trembling as if she were on the verge of tears.

“Excuse me,” Rowan suddenly interjected.

Yeah. I felt my insides tense. Here he was, rushing to her rescue.

But to my surprise, Rowan smiled gently at me, standing up. “Love, could you help me for a moment? I think the pin on my collar fell off.”

I blinked, my heart skipping a beat. Love? He never called me “love” in public.

"...Sure," I murmured, following him, my mind spinning.

Rowan led me a few feet away and the moment we were alone and out of earshot, the atmosphere changed.

The warmth in his smile quickly vanished.

He stepped closer, his breath brushing my cheek, his fingers sliding down the length of my arm before tightly gripping my wrist.

"What are you doing? I thought we were fixing your collar," I whispered in a shaky voice.

"You never play your role, do you?" he murmured into my ear, his voice a low growl. "If you could manage not to embarrass me out there, that would be helpful, for both of us."

I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “I’m sorry—Embarrass you? How about explaining why you haven’t told your friends we’ve been married for three years?”

“And why should I? I’d rather spare them the boring details,” he said, his tone dismissive, almost cruel. “That our marriage was arranged? That you were some doe-eyed girl fresh out of university who caught my grandmother’s eye?”

"How…how can you say that?" I gulped.

He leaned in, his lips almost grazing my ear, his voice barely a whisper but filled with command.

With his body so close to mine, invading my senses, I could barely breathe. "I don’t care how you act in private, but out there, you’ll act according to the script.

No questions, no drama. Understood?"

When we returned to the table, my pulse was still racing. The group looked at us with amused smiles.

“Gone for quite a while, weren’t you, lovely couple?” Paul teased, his eyes flicking between me and Rowan. Rowan merely smiled, offering no explanation.

I forced a tight smile as well, unable to find my voice.

Flora’s voice was saccharine sweet. “Rowan, could you help me cut the steak, please?”

Rowan didn’t hesitate. He reached for her plate, cutting the steak into small pieces before sliding it back to her.

“Thank you,” Flora said, her voice sweet, her eyes cast downward.

I paused, my fork hovering over my plate, before I continued eating. Each bite felt heavy, like swallowing stones.

I kept repeating Rowan’s warning in my mind: I must not embarrass him.

A few moments later, Flora pushed her empty glass toward Rowan. “Please, help me pour some water,” she said, her tone soft, almost pitiful.

Before Rowan could even move, Henry chuckled. “Come on, Flora, don’t stress the big CEO like that. His wife’s here—let him take care of her for once.”

Henry grabbed the glass and poured the water himself, but the tension at the table was palpable. I glanced at Rowan, then at Flora. She blinked, her lashes fluttering like she was trying to fight back tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s just... a habit. Jared always took such good care of me at the table, if he were still around...”

Her words hung in the air, and I could see the tears about to spill from her eyes. Rowan sighed, his lips pressed together in a tight line, and he started to rise, clearly about to pour her some water.

But before he could, I forced a smile and took the kettle from the side table.

“It’s okay, Flora. I understand. Let me help you,” I said, my tone far too calm for the storm brewing inside me.

Her expression faltered for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft and tentative. “I don’t want to bother you…”

I met her eyes, my smile unwavering. “It’s the same whether you bother me or Rowan. After all, he’s my husband.”

Flora’s face drained of color, and a tear slipped down her cheek. “What are you implying, Janet?” Her voice quivered, but she wasn’t finished. “Why do you act like you don’t like me since you came?”

I frowned, what was she talking about?

The table fell silent. Henry and Paul scrambled to recover, one quickly saying, “No, you misunderstood,” while the other awkwardly tried to distract her with a change of topic. “Try this dish, Flora.”

Flora didn’t respond. Instead, she bit her lip, then glanced at Rowan with eyes full of unshed tears. “Rowan, didn’t you always say that your wife was the most considerate? Why does she always mock me in such a sarcastic way? To be honest... people who come uninvited should feel she’s the least welcome.”

My blood boiled at her words.

Was she implying that no one had invited me here?

It was her who had interfered in other people’s lives and barged into private plans!

“Miss Flora…” I sneered, about to cut her down with words, when Rowan suddenly stood and grabbed my hand. His grip was tight, his fingers warm, but the pressure was anything but gentle—it was like a vice.

“Love, you are drunk. Take the key and go back to the hotel.”

Seriously?

Drunk?

I didn’t even take a sip of wine!

“Have some rest,” he continued. “I’ll see you soon.”

I pulled my hand from his grasp, my chest heaving with restrained anger.

“I’ll be expecting,” I said through gritted teeth, enunciating each word carefully as I snatched the keys from his hand.

Behind me, I heard Flora’s soft, pitiful voice. “Oh… I’m sorry. Did I offend her? I didn’t mean to…”