Chapter 3

7:30 p.m.

The kitchen in the Hall residence was warm with steam.

A pan of fish simmered on the stove, a pot of beef stew reducing slowly beside it. Vegetables were chopped into neat pieces, and a stockpot bubbled quietly over low heat.

The door opened, and Nathan walked in.

He wore a dark overcoat over a sharply tailored suit, his tie loosened slightly.

When he saw Lizzie preparing dinner, the sharpness in his features softened slightly.

Lizzie moved about the kitchen, busy with her hands.

She heard him come in but didn’t turn around and pause.

She used to go to him the moment he walked in, just happy he’d made it home in time for dinner.

Now, she didn’t even spare him a glance.

Nathan’s gaze flicked briefly to the bag by the door before he spoke. “You went out today?”

“Mm.” Lizzie set the soup down on the table. “Met a friend. And got back in touch with my mentor.”

“Your mentor?” Nathan shrugged off his coat, undoing his cufflinks. “The one who taught you painting?”

“Mm.” She nodded. “I’m thinking of going back to the studio.”

Nathan paused, looking up at her. “Why do you suddenly want to go back to the studio?”

“Been stuck at home too long. I need something to do.” Lizzie smiled faintly, her tone light.

Something about it didn’t sit right with him, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

“Isn’t staying home better?”

He frowned slightly.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable with you working outside. What if someone gives you a hard time?”

His voice was gentle, as if he were thinking everything through for her.

But to Lizzie, it only turned her stomach.

He had said things like this countless times before. She used to listen to him, but in the end, he was always the one who benefited.

He was never worried about her being mistreated.

He was worried about losing control over her.

“Staying home is nice, ”Lizzie said with a small smile, not exposing him.

“Sharon… that’s her name, right? You took care of her all night yesterday? Is she feeling better now?”

The table fell silent for a moment.

Nathan spoke at last, “If you’re feeling bored, you can spend a few days at the studio. Just don’t overwork yourself.”

He picked up his fork. “Let’s eat.”

Lizzie let out a quiet, inward scoff.

She had mentioned Sharon on purpose because bringing her up would make Nathan recall what happened at the funeral and stir a trace of guilt.

And with that trace of guilt, she could get him to loosen his grip and allow her to go back to work.

She lowered her gaze and took a sip of soup, no longer looking at him.

Nathan followed suit, taking a sip before frowning slightly. “The taste is different?”

“I changed the recipe.” Lizzie smiled, obedient and mild.

“I’m not used to it.” He set the bowl down. “I preferred how it was before.”

Lizzie’s smile lingered, but she didn’t respond.

The soup before took her hours to prepare.

She used to spend hours in the kitchen, building the stock from scratch and seasoning it herself.

Today’s soup was made by their housekeeper, Mary Watson, from a pre-made base.

Of course it tasted different.

Nathan watched her compliant expression and felt a subtle ease settle in his chest.

He thought back to the funeral—how she had pressed him about her father’s treatment slot, her eyes red in a way that unsettled him.

He had always been confident in his decisions, never believing there was anything wrong with giving that slot away.

But in that moment, he felt a flicker of unease.

This version of Lizzie, quiet and gentle, was better.

She was much easier to handle.

Nathan pressed his lips together, then suddenly took out a small box from his coat pocket and pushed it toward her. “This is for you.”

“My assistant recommended it. Apparently, it’s popular lately.”

Lizzie opened the box.

Inside was a pair of soft pink drop earrings, delicate in design.

She didn’t have her ears pierced.

Nathan seemed to realize it a beat later. “You don’t… have piercings, do you?”

“It’s fine.” Lizzie closed the box and smiled. “I can keep them and switch to clip-ons later.”

The smile didn’t reach her eyes.

If he had put any thought into it, how could he have picked something she couldn’t even wear?

“You don’t like it?”

He frowned.

“It’s pretty,” Lizzie said. “I just didn’t expect you to remember to bring me something.”

It sounded almost like she was being coy.

Nathan’s expression softened.

“Next time, I’ll get you something better.”

After dinner, he didn’t head straight for his study like he usually did.

“Anything good playing lately? Want to watch something?”

Lizzie looked up, her movement pausing for a moment.

Nathan was strict about how he spent his time.

Leisure with her had never been part of the plan.

Was this sudden effort due to guilt?

Thanks, but no thanks.

That was what she thought.

On the surface, though, she still nodded obediently.

The lights in the living room dimmed.

By the time Lizzie came back with a pot of tea, Nathan was already seated at one end of the sofa.

“Sit here.”

He patted the spot beside him. “You won’t be able to see from that far.”

Lizzie sat down next to him, a small cushion between them.

The TV flickered to life.

To anyone watching, they might have looked like a devoted couple.

But the way he kept lowering his head, pulling out his phone again and again, gave him away.

Messages kept buzzing in, the glow lighting up the side of his face.

And though her eyes were on the screen, not a single line of dialogue reached her.

Lizzie noticed, her fingertips lightly tapping against the armrest.

Just then, Nathan’s phone buzzed twice.

He glanced down.

A name flashed across the screen—Sharon.

The ringtone sounded for two seconds before he picked up. “Hello?”

Whatever was said on the other end made his brow slowly tighten.

His voice dropped. “Now?”

Lizzie kept her eyes on the screen.

On it, the lead character was shouting passionately, arms flailing, but not a single line registered with her.

“I’ll be there soon.” Nathan ended the call and turned to her. “You keep watching. I might be back late.”

A polite smile crossed Lizzie’s face as she went along with it.

“Sure. Drive safe.”

She picked up his coat and car keys and handed them to him.

Nathan paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

“What?” Lizzie asked, as if puzzled.

Seeing the faint strain in her smile, he assumed she was reluctant to see him go and added, “Sharon was in a car accident. I don’t know how bad it is. I have to go check. Don’t worry, I’ll come back as soon as I’ve handled it.”

“Then you should go,” Lizzie said lightly. “Why are you still standing here?”

The door closed behind him.

On the TV, a confession scene was playing, the sound loud and dramatic.

She picked up the remote and switched it off.

The living room fell into darkness at once.

In the study, a floor lamp cast light over one corner of the room.

Lizzie sat at the desk and opened Nathan’s laptop with ease.

After they got married, she had almost never stepped into his study, and Nathan had never been guarded around her. Even the password was the same one he always used.

Her cursor moved quickly across the folders.

She opened one labeled “Photos.”

Inside, there were countless pictures of Sharon.

In them, a younger Sharon smiled brightly and effortlessly.

Nathan, just as young then, carried that same sharp, confident air, yet his gaze was always fixed on her.