It had been four months since the wedding, yet the space between you and Mingyu remained cold and unfamiliar. Despite sharing the same luxurious penthouse, your lives barely touched, separate rooms, separate routines, and barely a word exchanged unless necessary. He treated you with polite indifference, never cruel, but never kind either.

Tonight was no different. He arrived late, the scent of his cologne trailing behind as he walked past you without a glance. You sat quietly in the living room, pretending not to care, even though you always waited. He loosened his tie, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and settled into silence like it was second nature.

“You’re always late,” you murmured, not looking at him. Mingyu didn’t answer at first. Then, without turning around, he said flatly, “You don’t need to wait.”