6. Never His Choice

Close your eyes.

Sleep.

Elmy failed at both.

Zayne’s presence beside her was one of the reasons her eyes stayed wide open until nearly three in the morning.

Pulling the blanket closer, she glanced at Zayne, who was sleeping soundly next to her. His breathing was soft, almost inaudible. His lips were slightly parted. His hair—usually neat and perfectly styled—fell messily over his forehead. That look had only ever existed in Elmy’s imagination.

Now it was right in front of her. Clear. Real.

Trying not to disturb him, Elmy slowly rolled onto her side, facing him. She studied Zayne’s peaceful face. He could fall asleep effortlessly, while her mind refused to quiet down.

For a moment, she felt the urge to touch his face. Her hand moved forward—

But a low, sleepy groan escaped Zayne’s lips. His eyelids lifted.

Zayne woke up.

Elmy froze, eyes wide.

“Can’t sleep?” Zayne asked, his voice hoarse.

Elmy pressed her lips together and said nothing. Her whole body went tense. Zayne propped his head up with one hand, turning to face her.

“Did I wake you?” Elmy asked softly.

“I could hear you tossing around for a while,” Zayne replied. “Because of me?”

Elmy shook her head. Pride kept her from admitting that he was the reason she couldn’t sleep.

Zayne turned to stare at the ceiling. He let out a short breath, then sat up. The mattress shifted slightly as he leaned back against the headboard. His glasses were back on his nose. He reopened the book he had been reading earlier.

“Get used to it,” Zayne said coldly.

After that, he said nothing more. His gaze dropped back to the pages. The only sound left was the soft rustle of paper turning.

Elmy waited.

A few seconds passed.

Nothing.

Seeing that, Elmy pushed the blanket aside and moved away from the bed.

The cold marble floor seeped into her skin—almost as cold as Zayne’s gaze from across the room.

“You’ll get sore sleeping there,” Zayne warned, but Elmy ignored him and curled up on the sofa, hugging a cushion tightly.

She’d rather deal with a sore body than the tight, crushing feeling in her chest.

Luckily, being farther away from the bed made it easier for Elmy to fall asleep.

She didn’t expect to wake up covered with a blanket, her head resting on a proper pillow from the bed. Sunlight filtered faintly through the curtains, which were still fully closed.

Elmy quickly sat up and found the bed neatly made.

Zayne was gone.

His work bag was no longer on the hook.

He’s already left, Elmy thought, feeling a bit relieved.

Unfortunately, that relief didn’t last.

On her way to the dining room, Elmy stopped in her tracks.

Sunny was there, standing by the table, attending to Zayne—pouring tea, preparing breakfast—as if… as if she were Zayne’s wife.

Elmy clenched the handle of her bag until it almost hurt.

She should’ve known this would happen.

But her heart wasn’t ready to see it.

She wanted to turn around and leave, but Gianna’s voice stopped her.

“Madam Elmy, you’re awake? Please have a seat. I’ve prepared your breakfast,” Gianna said cheerfully.

With no choice, Elmy walked forward and sat across from Zayne, who was sipping the tea Sunny had made.

He drank coffee every day. He always refused tea whenever Gianna offered it.

But now—

The words slipped out of Elmy’s mouth the moment she sat down.

“When are you going to do it?” she asked. She didn’t need to be explicit. She knew Zayne understood.

Zayne set the mug down on the saucer with a sharp clink. His gaze turned hard.

“Do you think Sunny can get pregnant in one day just by doing that method?”

Elmy bit the inside of her lip hard. Her fingers tightened around her spoon and fork.

“I already told you, why go through all that when you could—”

“Please,” Zayne cut in, looking exhausted. “Don’t talk about this right now.”

He stood up, ready to leave.

Sunny stepped in front of him, casually placing her hand on his wrist.

“Have breakfast first, Zayne. I made you a sandwich.”

Elmy tried to stay calm at the sight, though her breath now felt stuck in her throat. The feelings she had been suppressing struggled to break free, threatening to spill out as tears. Her vision blurred, and she quickly looked away.

“Eat it yourself, Sunny,” Zayne said. He grabbed his jacket from the chair and left without another glance.

Sunny hurried after him, leaving Elmy and Gianna standing there in silence.

Gianna approached the table.

“Mrs… are you sure about all of this?” she asked gently.

Elmy stayed quiet.

Even Gianna understood how she felt. There was only one person in this house who never did—Zayne.

With a trembling voice, Elmy finally said, “I’m sure, Gianna. I just want to be free from Zayne as soon as possible.”

Gianna lowered her head slightly.

Elmy sniffed softly, trying to steady her shaking breath. Her eyes drifted to her coffee cup.

“Zayne never drinks tea,” she murmured. “But when Sunny makes it…”

Her words trailed off.

“Mr. Zayne can’t drink coffee,” Gianna said with a faint smile.

Elmy looked up, startled.

“But he insists on drinking the coffee you make.”

Elmy swallowed hard.

Part of her didn’t believe it.

But when she saw the seriousness on Gianna’s face, she knew the woman wasn’t trying to comfort her. She was telling the truth—something Elmy had never known.

A memory flashed through her mind from the day before, when Sunny had asked about Zayne’s coffee habit.

So that’s why Sunny had looked at him with such admiration?

Just as Elmy was about to ask more, Sunny returned and sat across from her—in Zayne’s chair.

“Elmy, you’ve been married to Zayne for a year, right?” Sunny said suddenly.

“Yeah.”

“Did you ever ask about what food or drinks he can’t have?”

At that moment, Elmy realized something. It wasn’t about Sunny’s question sounding judgmental.

It was about herself.

All this time, she hadn’t really known Zayne—not the way Sunny did.

That realization hit her hard, killing her appetite completely.

Elmy stood up, ready to leave. But Sunny spoke again.

“Maybe that’s why…” she said slowly, lifting her gaze. “…Zayne never chose you.”