Chapter 2

I blinked in confusion and shot her a bewildered look. "Didn't you say it yourself? It's necessary for your career."

Immediately, Marilyn looked like she had been doused with cold water. An expression of utter defeat crossed her face.

"Shane, please teach me how we can go back to how we were before?"

She cuddled up against my chest.

The perfume she wore wafted into my nose, the scent that was once wonderful to me now striking me as cloying and irritating.

I said, "Our life is also fine right now, just as it is."

She opened her mouth, about to say something, but then her phone rang.

"Mari, I'm waiting for you at Blackwater Bridge. I'll jump if you don't come!" Henry's drunken voice blared over the speakers.

Marilyn glanced at me hesitantly, her grip on her phone so tight that her fingers had gone pale.

I spoke up first. "See? You should've called Henry to come over earlier. Hurry up and go, or the paparazzi are going to have a field day and come up with a nonsensical scandal again."

For a moment, Marilyn stared at me, her mouth opening as though she wanted to speak.

Ultimately, she hurried out of the house without saying a single word.

My gaze drifted to the puffer coat she had left on the couch before I remembered that it was currently below freezing outside.

However, unlike in the past, when I would instantly head out to deliver it to her, I simply sighed this time.

…

It was midnight when Marilyn finally returned, and she had bought me supper.

I sat by the dining table, my eyes droopy with sleep.

"Shane, Henry got drunk, so I sent him back home. That's all I did, I swear. The other staff members were present for the whole thing, so you can call them if you don't believe me."

With that, she fished out her phone and got ready to call the staff members.

Right before she could press the call button, I stopped her.

"I believe you. There's no need to disturb other people."

Before Marilyn could respond, I turned to the spicy stew on the table and said calmly, "I can't take spicy food since I have gastric problems."

Marilyn was momentarily surprised before she apologized, her tone filled with guilt. "Sorry, I didn't know. Henry said he wanted to eat this, so I bought you a portion too."

It had been several years since I had been diagnosed with gastric problems, yet she was actually saying that she hadn't known?

Yet whenever Henry came down with even the slightest cold, she would immediately bring him medicine.

Letting out a soft laugh, I shook my head like I was unbothered. "It's fine. I'm not hungry anyway. I'm going to sleep first."

However, when I climbed back into bed, I realized I was no longer sleepy.

I had first met Marilyn at a bar.

Back then, she had been singing on stage, and it had been love at first sight.

After getting together with her, I became her manager as though it was the most natural thing in the world. For the sake of getting her work, I spent my days drinking with various investment partners.

That was how I ended up with gastric problems.

Fortunately, Marilyn ended up exploding with popularity after participating in a singing show. To the general public, she claimed that it was sheer luck that caused her to become famous.

It was also that year that we got married and received our marriage certificate. At the time, she had promised me that while she couldn't reveal our relationship to the public, she would definitely not let me down or put me through any suffering.

…

The next morning, I received a job offer. After glancing through it, I handed my phone over to Marilyn.

"This will boost the band's popularity, which is crucial at this point, since you guys are going to release a new song soon."

Marilyn took one look and instantly stiffened. Her tone was disbelieving as she said, "You're actually telling me to go on a dating reality show with Henry?"

I nodded. "This is work, and it's all just an act. It hasn't been easy for us to get this far, so we shouldn't let our personal feelings affect our careers."

Immediately, all the color drained from Marilyn's face.

These were the exact words she had told me back when I had gotten into my very first argument with her, when she decided to team up with Henry to do fan service as a couple.

Now, I was simply returning the words to her, verbatim.

My attitude seemed to wear down what little patience Marilyn had. She answered anxiously, "You're the manager. You decide."

With that said, she stared at me intently, as if expecting me to erupt into an argument with her as I had in the past.

However, instead of arguing, I merely hummed indifferently, lowered my gaze, and continued eating my breakfast.

Right before I was about to head out, Marilyn's nervous voice rang out behind me.

"Shane, if I were to retire from the industry—"

I interrupted her before she could even finish speaking. "There's no need for that. This is your dream."