[4]

"Are you ... lost your mind?"

Althea understood perfectly why her best friend reacted that way, her face frozen in disbelief. She had told Lydia everything—though without shedding a single tear, Lydia knew just how deep the pain and disappointment ran. Not all pain needed tears to be felt.

Sometimes, the wound cut so deeply that even tears no longer had the strength to fall.

"You can say whatever you want," Althea replied with a faint smile. "But I think this is the only chance life has given me."

"You have me, Althea. You’re not alone in this world," Lydia snapped, frustrated. "I’ve told you so many times, the Callister family is no place for someone like you. You’re too kind… too gentle to be forced to survive among them."

Althea stared at her now-lukewarm cup of tea. Her hands still wrapped around it, as if whatever warmth remained could calm the storm inside her chest.

"I know," she whispered, barely audible. "If I could turn back time, I would never have wanted to be part of their family."

A bitter smile curved her lips, one meant only for herself—for the life that felt like an endless tidal wave crashing repeatedly.

Lydia let out a long sigh, leaning closer toward Althea, who sat slumped in defeat. "Why are you choosing to wait a whole month? In the end, Daven’s still going to divorce you, isn’t he?"

Althea nodded slowly. "Like I said before… who knows? Maybe sometime within that month, Daven might spend the night with me."

She gave a pained smile, her head bowing lower. "My life is pathetic, isn’t it?"

Silence stretched between them.

"But who knows," Althea said softly. "Maybe God will take pity on me. Maybe I’ll get pregnant."

"Aren’t you afraid?" Lydia asked cautiously. "What if Daven finds out someday?"

"Why should I be afraid? It’s just a night like the ones he spends with other women, isn’t it? I can give him plenty of reasons. I won’t ask anything from him. There won’t be a Callister name tied to me—or my child—ever again."

Lydia exhaled heavily. The despair Althea carried wasn’t baseless. If this was what Althea wanted, then there was nothing Lydia could do but stand by her. "And you’re really sure you want to sell the house?"

"Yes," Althea answered without hesitation.

Lydia looked at her, a mix of admiration and sorrow in her eyes. "But that house—it was your mother’s. You two made so many memories there."

Althea paused for a moment, then offered a faint, wistful smile. "I don’t want to leave any trace of myself in this city, Lydia. I’ve made up my mind. I’m truly leaving."

***

The sky was already dark when Daven Callister unlocked the door, the familiar click echoing through the silence of the grand house—quiet, yet resounding. His black shoes clicked against the marble floor of the foyer, and the dark grey suit he wore looked slightly rumpled. A faint trace of an elegant woman’s perfume lingered on his collar—a remnant of the secret dinner he had just shared with Vanessa.

He sighed, loosening his tie with a lazy tug before stepping further inside. The lights in the main room were still on, casting a warm glow that stood in stark contrast to the cold air outside.

“Welcome home, Daven.”

His steps halted.

Althea stood at the entrance to the dining room, dressed in a simple beige house dress. Her hair was pinned up neatly, with a few soft strands framing her face. She smiled—wide and sincere—her warm brown eyes looking at her husband as if nothing was wrong.

For a moment, Daven just looked back at her. Normally, he would have ignored that greeting. But tonight, he couldn’t brush Althea off so easily.

“I made dinner,” she said. “I heard the weather’s been chilly today, so I thought you’d like some beef soup and warm bread.”

Her words made Daven glance at the dining table. Dinner was set with care: a bowl of steaming soup, homemade bread, and a small plate of salad arranged delicately. A single lit candle stood at the center, casting a soft glow and shadows on the wall.

Daven exhaled quietly. “I already ate.”

Althea nodded. “That’s okay. But it’d be a shame to let it go cold and to waste. You could try a little.”

Her tone was light, not insistent. But for some reason, Daven pulled out a chair and sat down without complaint. Maybe it was fatigue. Maybe it was the hopeful look in Althea’s eyes. Or maybe it was because of the promise he’d made—to treat Althea as his real wife, just for a month.

And dinner with his wife counted, didn’t it?

Althea took the seat across from him, her hands busy pouring water into a glass. “Go ahead,” she said gently. She didn’t touch her own food, just watched him with a calm gaze.

“How was your day?” she asked softly. “Did the morning meeting go well?”

Daven picked up the spoon, slowly tasted the soup, and swallowed without replying.

Althea offered a faint smile. She understood. Daven wasn’t the kind of man who opened up easily, especially not to someone he considered a wife only because of circumstance.

“I heard about the Korean textile merger that’s planning to expand into Mighatan. Aren’t they considered a competitor to Callister Enterprise?”

Daven’s head lifted slightly.

“Not a direct competitor,” he muttered. “But they do have ties to the raw material markets we’ve been targeting.”

Althea nodded thoughtfully. “I thought you’d approach it with an alliance strategy, not competition.”

Daven paused mid-bite. There was a moment of silence before he set the spoon down slowly.

“You understand quite a bit.”

“Some news portals have been covering it. I’ve just been following along a little.”

Daven raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t say anything, but for the first time in a long while, he looked at Althea—not with disdain or irritation, but with a flicker of interest.

Althea smiled, not out of pride, but because she knew she’d finally gotten his attention.

“I want to understand some of the things that make up your world. At the very least… if I’m going to leave one day, I want to go knowing who you really are.”

The word “leave” hung in the air like a heavy night fog.

Daven said nothing. Instead, he picked up his spoon again and finished the soup in his bowl.

A long silence settled between them—comforting in a way neither of them could quite define. Until finally, Daven spoke—his tone as flat as usual, though this time, not as cold.

“In two days, there’s a dinner at the Mighatan Embassy. The Japanese Ambassador will be attending.”

Althea turned to him slowly. “Sounds like an important meeting.”

“The Japanese Ambassador has taken a particular interest in Callister Enterprise. He extended a personal invitation.”

“That’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Althea’s voice carried a hint of enthusiasm.

“They invited me... with a partner.”

She was still smiling. “You can do that, Daven.”

“My wife.”

Althea went quiet.

“I’ve been asked to attend with my wife, Althea.”

Those words rendered her speechless. A sharp, unexplainable ache bloomed in her chest. It had already seemed certain that Daven would go with Vanessa. And why was he telling her this?

Just to remind her of her place? Even without being told, Althea was painfully aware of who she was in this house.

“Get ready to attend the event, Althea.”

Daven rose from his seat, resting a hand on the table before walking toward the stairs. But just before he disappeared from sight, he spoke again—without turning back:

“The soup was good.”

She hadn’t processed what he’d said yet. Not fully. But...

“Am I dreaming?” Althea muttered, pressing her hands to her cheeks, suddenly warm. “Daven... complimented my cooking?”

Oh, but that wasn’t the most shocking part. “And he asked me to go with him? As his wife?”