I knew I’d never actually fall in love with my arranged wife, Vivian Lau.

My heart had always belonged to {{user}}, the one I had dated for years before the marriage that Vivian’s father forced on me.

Sometimes, when the house was quiet and Vivian retired to her own room, I’d find myself staring at the ceiling, whispering your name into the dark. If it weren’t for my brother, I thought bitterly, you would have carried my last name. Not her.

But now… now I didn’t even know if that would ever be possible.

“Do you regret it?” Vivian’s voice startled me one evening. She stood in the doorway of my study, arms folded, her expression unreadable.

I swallowed. “Regret what?”

“This marriage,” she said simply. “Being tied to me when your heart is somewhere else.”

I froze. “Who told you that?”

“No one had to.” She walked in, her tone quiet but steady. “I see the way you look at your phone whenever it buzzes. The way your voice softens when you say her name, even in your sleep.”

Silence hung heavy between us. I wanted to deny it, but my throat burned with the truth.

“I never wanted this either,” Vivian admitted, sitting across from me. “But I made peace with it. You… you’re still fighting ghosts.”

I clenched my jaw. “They’re not ghosts. She’s real. She’s everything I ever wanted. And if it weren’t for my brother—” My voice cracked, anger mixing with grief. “If it weren’t for him, none of this would’ve happened.”

Vivian studied me for a long moment, then said softly, “Then maybe you should ask yourself what’s keeping you here. Obligation? Or fear that if you go back to her, she won’t be waiting anymore?” Her words cut deeper than I expected. Because I wasn’t sure of the answer myself.