Chapter 4

The master bedroom had only one large bed.

The entire room was decorated in the most minimalist black, white, and gray tones.

Aside from that, the room was impeccably clean, and the air carried the faint, elegant scent of gardenias.

I remembered, this was Chloe's favorite scent.

I walked to the walk-in closet, looking for my pajamas. However, when I opened the closet, almost all I saw were women's clothes—from elegant dresses to exquisite blouses, neatly categorized and hung. I searched carefully, but couldn't find a single pajama set or loungewear that clearly belonged to a man.

…

With no other option, I had to knock on the study door.

"Chloe, excuse me, sorry to bother you."

Chloe, who was working at her computer, looked up at the sound. Her gold-rimmed glasses made her appear both professional and somewhat aloof.

"I can't find my pajamas," I explained, gesturing towards the master bedroom. "The master closet seems to have all your clothes."

Chloe stared at me for a few seconds, not speaking immediately.

Just as I thought she wouldn't answer and was about to leave, she suddenly stood up from her chair and walked towards me.

She stopped in front of me. Even though I was taller than her, the cool aura surrounding her made me feel a slight pressure.

Chloe subtly curved her lips, her hands tucked into her pockets.

"What, are you planning to keep up the amnesia act?"

I was speechless, unsure how to respond. Honestly, she didn't believe me.

Fortunately, she didn't press further this time. She simply walked past me, heading towards the other side of the hallway.

I stood there, feeling a bit lost.

She turned her head, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

"Not coming?"

I immediately followed, but intentionally kept a step's distance.

"Thanks."

She walked to the door of a secondary bedroom, pushed it open, and gestured for me to go in. "Your clothes should be in here."

I walked into the room and opened the closet. The sight made me pause—a uniform collection of dark, extremely conservative suits, shirts, and vests, meticulously folded, exuding a stern and rigid aura. I rummaged through them, and finally, in the bottommost drawer, I found a cotton garment that looked like pajamas—old-fashioned, overly loose, but at least comfortable.

Holding these pajamas, I felt even stranger. Was this how "I" usually dressed?

…

I took the pajamas and walked back to the master bathroom, my mind a jumble. The issues between us were perhaps far more complex than I'd imagined.

After showering, I threw on a jacket and headed towards Daisy's room.

The children's room was warmly decorated, with soft stuffed animals and colorful stickers everywhere. It was clear Chloe poured a lot of love into our child.

I tiptoed in. Daisy was already asleep, clutching a small bunny plushie tightly.

I pulled the blanket she'd kicked off back over her and gently took her thumb out of her mouth, wiping it dry with a tissue.

Only at this moment did a soft, paternal feeling truly wash over me.

But I knew so little about her, I wasn't even sure how old she was.

My marriage certificate with Chloe showed we'd registered four years ago. So Daisy must be about three years old.

I stroked her soft hair and got up to leave. Just as I closed the door and turned around, I saw Chloe standing silently in the hallway, very close by.

My back instinctively pressed against the door. Chloe didn't seem to find the proximity awkward, showing no intention of stepping back.

My heart rate abruptly quickened.

"Are you done with work?" I asked.

"Mhm."

The atmosphere was thick. I didn't know what to say.

"So… are you going to bed?"

Chloe didn't respond, nor did she move.

I pulled the jacket I was wearing tighter. "Then I'll go back to my room first."

With that, I sidled past her, practically fleeing back to the master bedroom. I quickly threw back the covers and lay down, neatly curling up on one side.

Soon after, the master bedroom door opened, and Chloe walked in.

Seeing me already in bed, she paused, standing at the doorway and watching me.

Her gaze made me feel uneasy.

"Chloe, which side do you usually sleep on?"

She didn't answer.

Helpless, I had no choice but to throw off the covers, get out of bed, and stand aside. "You pick first."

Only then did Chloe move. She walked to the window side, lay down, and then reached out to click off the bedside lamp on her side.

The room plunged into darkness. I fumbled my way back into bed, the person beside me breathing steadily.

But I was wide awake, my thoughts a swirling mess.

The jacket sleeve pressed uncomfortably against my injured arm. I carefully shifted, and seeing no reaction from Chloe, quietly sat up, intending to take the jacket off.

Just as I took off the jacket and rubbed my arm, Chloe, who had been facing away from me, suddenly turned over and moved closer in the dark.

Her breath brushed my cheek, and my own breathing hitched with nerves. Though I couldn't see her, I could feel how close she was.

"Chloe?"

"What exactly are you trying to do, Liam?" Her voice was incredibly clear in the darkness, laced with coldness.

"What?" I froze.

"You were the one who wanted to get married, then you were the one who went to great lengths to get a divorce. Now, you're faking amnesia and sleeping here. I have no interest in cooperating with your fickle games."

"I'm not…"

"Not what?" Her tone was sarcastic. "Isn't this your usual behavior?"

I was speechless, unable to defend myself. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Silence stretched in the darkness. A moment later, Chloe pulled back, then got out of bed.

"Liam, I have no feelings left for you. Whether you're being genuine or not now, stop with these pointless theatrics."

"I'll go to the guest room tonight."

With that, she left the room without looking back.

The door softly clicked shut. The vast master bedroom was left with only me.