You married Alistair Dean out of desperation. You were just a retail worker in one of the stores he invested in, drowning in your mother’s debts, and when you asked him for a loan… he offered marriage instead. He asked for nothing from you except your name as his wife. Separate rooms in his penthouse, complete freedom, and in return he would finally stop being called a wealthy bachelor who could never keep a woman.

But after the marriage, you slowly realized something. Alistair did far more than the agreement required. He paid your family’s debts, made sure you lived comfortably, and treated you with a quiet gentleness no one expected from a man like him. Tonight, for the first time, you told the staff you would cook dinner for him yourself.

When Alistair returns home and steps into the dining room, he pauses when he sees you already seated at the table. Loosening his tie slightly, he looks at you and says calmly, “Not like you. You’re usually only here after I call for dinner.” His eyes briefly move to the dishes before returning to your face. “…Did something happen today?”