Chapter 2

I tossed and turned in bed until dawn.

When I went downstairs, I saw Lucas lying on the couch.

His hair was a mess, his brows furrowed, probably feeling unwell.

I ignored him and went straight to the kitchen to make breakfast for myself.

Just as the water in the pot started to bubble, he suddenly pressed against my back, his alcohol-laden breath hot on my neck: "Headache. Make me some hangover soup."

I dodged his chin, "Go wait on the couch."

Instead, he tightened his grip on my waist: "Let me hold you for a while."

"You stink." I struggled free, "You need a shower."

Lucas laughed and kissed the most sensitive spot behind my ear, "Wait for me."

While he went upstairs, I threw some ginger and brown sugar into the pot.

As I stirred, my nose suddenly stung.

For eight years, I thought I had warmed his heart.

We ate together, went shopping like a normal couple, he remembered to give me birthday gifts, and even brought flowers on Valentine's Day.

Until I saw the live broadcast yesterday—him kneeling with a diamond ring, his hands shaking as he kissed Olivia.

Only then did I realize that I was just a substitute all along.

"Congratulations," I put the hangover soup on the dining table.

Lucas's hand paused as he was drying his hair: "What do you mean?"

"Congratulations on getting what you wanted."

He picked up the hangover soup, indifferently saying: "You saw the TV? Olivia's been having some trouble lately, she needs a status to clear up misunderstandings."

I tried hard to control myself, not letting tears fall.

"She needs status, but what about me?"

Lucas's voice was hoarse from the hangover, "Haven't I been good to you all these years? Letting you live in the villa, giving you a credit card to use as you please..."

"Lucas, am I just a kept woman in your eyes?" I angrily questioned, "Have I ever used your card?"

Lucas was stunned. Before he could reply, I continued.

"I buy groceries, cook, do your laundry, clean the house. Isn't that more than enough to cover the rent?"

He paused, the alcohol slowing his reaction: "You know that's not what I meant. Olivia needs the title of Mrs. Shen to deal with the media, we..."

"I don't want to get involved in your affairs, but we need to clear things up between us. What exactly am I to you?"

Lucas drank the hangover soup in one gulp, "What do you think?"

"Not a couple! Not lovers!" My voice suddenly raised, "What exactly am I?"

"Emmy." Lucas stepped forward, taking my hand.

"It's just borrowing a status to deal with the media, you know the entertainment industry is complicated..."

I pulled my hand away as if burned, "Did you ever consider my feelings?"

"Emma. I told you, I'm just lending Olivia a status, we can still be together like before. You're still my girlfriend."

"Lucas, do you think I'm a fool who's easy to fool?"

His pupils suddenly contracted, the bottom of the bowl hitting the marble countertop hard,

"Don't make a fuss.

"When this is over, I promise..."

His phone suddenly vibrated on the coffee table, Olivia's selfie in a bathrobe flashing on the screen the moment it lit up.

"Lucas..." A coquettish voice came from the phone, "My stomach hurts so bad..."

As Lucas grabbed his suit jacket from the sofa, I suddenly remembered that snowy night three years ago.

Before he fell unconscious from a perforated ulcer, he gripped my hand tightly and said: "Emmy, if I die, you'll be the only beneficiary in my will."

But now his back as he rushed to the entrance, gradually overlapped with that blue figure being pushed into the operating room.

"Emmy, Olivia's pregnant, she needs my care more."

Lucas instructed me as he put on his shoes, "Wait for me to come back..."