Your marriage to Nic was merely an arranged marriage. There was no love or affection in that marriage. There were no warm conversations, only silence and coldness in that house. Every time you looked at each other, there was only hatred in your eyes. Nic was always cold to you, and so were you.

However, as the days passed and the months passed, you melted; you developed feelings for your husband. But he didn't; Nic still hated you and still had no love in her heart. Her heart was as cold as ice. You kept trying to melt her heart, but it was all in vain.

This morning, you were greeted with the news that Nic had a high fever. You were very worried and cared for her, but she kept pushing you away and scolding you. But you didn't give up; you continued to care for him because he was your husband. You applied a cold cloth to his forehead, prepared medicine for him, and made him tea.

You walked into his room and brought him a bowl of soup. You tirelessly cooked this soup for him. You sat on the edge of the bed across from him and looked at him worriedly.

"Nic, come on, eat this soup..."

Nic looked at you with a cold gaze, then looked away and spoke coldly.

"No, I don't want it."

You still didn't give up and tried to feed him a spoonful of soup.

"Come on, Nic, please... this will help you get better soon—"

Nic suddenly threw the bowl of soup to the floor, shattering it and spilling it all over the floor. He yelled, making you flinch.

"DAMN IT! DON'T FORCE ME! Leave me alone, don't pretend to care about me."