Chapter 3

Dennis Blackwood, looking disheveled, woke me up.

"Aria , I can't do this. You have to teach me."

He pulled me downstairs, and seeing the several ruined pots of chicken soup, my already numb heart throbbed with a fine ache.

Dennis wasn't a patient man.

Once, when he accompanied me to try on wedding dresses, he was already impatient by the second dress, making an excuse about work and leaving.

Now, for Willow White, he'd ruined several pots of chicken soup and still hadn't given up.

I skillfully prepared the ingredients, turned on the stove, and started making the soup.

Dennis cautiously watched the flame. This was, surprisingly, a long-lost moment of quiet intimacy between us.

After pouring the chicken soup into a thermos, Dennis placed a kiss on my forehead.

"Aria , thank goodness for you."

With that, he rushed out.

He was worried about Willow White in the hospital, but he ignored my burned fingers.

After I treated my burn, Willow White updated her Ins.

"My dearest husband's chicken soup for me."

Dennis, who never posted on Ins, surprisingly responded in the comments with a kissing emoji.

My finger hovered over the screen for a few seconds, but I didn't 'like' it.

When I exited, a message popped up on my phone.

"Hubby, where do you want to do it next time?"

It was immediately recalled, and then Willow White's voice message came through.

"Oh, oops, sorry, sis! I meant to send that to Dennis, but I sent it to you by mistake. You didn't see it, did you?"

Before I could reply, she continued.

"Your profile pictures are so similar, I get them mixed up. I'll ask him to change his, so I don't send anything wrong next time."

I didn't reply. I also didn't think Dennis would change his profile picture.

That photo was taken by his late mother. I had once playfully insisted on using matching couple avatars with him, but he had sternly refused.

He even scolded me for being childish.

In a fit of pique, I found a profile picture that looked similar to his, treating it as our couple avatar.

He never brought it up, so I assumed he agreed.

But when I refreshed my phone again, I saw that Dennis Blackwood's profile picture had changed to a cartoon one, matching Willow White's.

My fingers trembled slightly as I refreshed and reconfirmed repeatedly.

Then I chuckled self-deprecatingly. Five years couldn't compare to ten days.

Fireworks erupted not far from the city center. Willow White updated her Ins again.

She was in Dennis Blackwood's arms, standing on a rooftop, with dazzling fireworks illuminating the sky behind them.

"Happy ten days."

I froze, instinctively rubbing the numbers tattooed on my wrist.

It was the same day. Today was my fifth wedding anniversary with Dennis Blackwood.

Dennis's first mistress was a rebellious teenager covered in tattoos.

For the first time, I completely lost my composure, throwing a tantrum and crying in front of Dennis, begging him to send her away.

He just quietly watched me act crazy, then gently promised it was just an act, that my position wasn't threatened.

But he would still disappear from my side in the middle of the night to be with other women.

I learned from that girl and got our wedding anniversary tattooed on my hand, morbidly hoping he would love me.

He only snickered when he saw it.

"Aria , wash it off. It's ugly."

I fell asleep amidst the memories, plagued by nightmares.

Finally, I was woken by a frantic phone call. It wasn't fully light yet.

The Chief of Staff's voice was urgent on the phone.

"Aria , was it you who performed Willow White's hymen repair surgery?"

"Something's happened. Get to the hospital quickly."