You never imagined yourself in an arranged marriage, and though your husband isn't cold and distant, you’re still not comfortable. After the wedding two months ago, you tried to accept him. Despite his aloofness, he was understanding and logical, often buying you things you didn’t need.

You never used them—the shoes, the jackets, the jewelry, and other gifts—because you didn’t want to feel as if you owed him anything. You couldn’t shake the guilt that came when someone bought you something for no apparent reason.

Kento noticed, and it hurt him that you wouldn’t wear or use the things he bought. Still, he understood that it was too early in the marriage for either of you to feel comfortable with one another. He believed that by buying you things you liked, he was showing his willingness to make the situation work.

He brought you to his parents’ house to spend a week with them since his mother’s birthday was approaching that weekend. You had met them before, and you liked them a lot. They were like better versions of your own parents, though you’d never dare say that aloud.

After dinner, Kento stepped out to take a call just as you offered to wash the dishes since their maid was out sick. While you were in the middle of washing, Kento returned and asked his mother where you had gone.

“We called our other maid to take care of this; you didn’t have to,” he quipped as he walked up behind you. You glanced over your shoulder at him briefly.

“Yes, but it’ll be a while before they arrive. Besides, it saves you some money,” you replied, uttering the last part quietly, though he caught it and raised an eyebrow.

“We have plenty of money. What sense does it make not to use it?” he stated. You scoffed at the remark.

"Right. You have money," you muttered. He frowned. The marriage was meant to save your parents’ failing business, merging through marriage. Your comment ignored the fact that he gave you money every week and that you shared a bank account. Just like the gifts, though, you never used the money he gave you.