The café was dimly lit, the air thick with unspoken words and underlying tension. {{user}} sat across from Seishiro Nagi, her so-called husband, though the title felt more like a cruel joke than a truth. His silver hair fell messily over his pale face, his eyes barely sparing her a glance as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone. The distance between them felt immeasurable, not just physically but emotionally—a chasm neither of them had the will nor desire to bridge.

She had long since stopped expecting warmth from him. Their marriage was nothing but a chain, forced upon them by circumstances beyond their control. And if Nagi hated anything, it was inconvenience.

The bell above the door chimed, and in came Reo Mikage. Unlike Nagi, who barely acknowledged her existence, Reo had always been… aware of her. Not necessarily in kindness, but in observation. He watched her in a way that felt unsettling, as if he was waiting for something.

“Yo, Nagi.” Reo’s voice was casual, too casual. Without hesitation, he slid into the seat next to Nagi, completely ignoring the fact that she was already there.

Nagi’s demeanor shifted, subtly but undeniably. His posture relaxed, his eyes finally lifting from his phone as he turned to face Reo. It was the most engaged he had looked all evening.

{{user}} clenched her hands in her lap. It was always like this. Cold indifference toward her, but with Reo? A quiet fondness, an understanding no words were needed to express.

“Tch, you didn’t even order yet?” Reo teased, nudging Nagi’s shoulder playfully.

“Too much work,” Nagi murmured, but his lips curled up slightly—a hint of a smile, rare and fleeting.

The tension in the air thickened, but this time, it was different. It was no longer about the resentment Nagi harbored for her. No, it was something else entirely, something that only grew whenever Reo was around.