He thought I was spying on him.

Arthur's gaze swept from my soaked hair down to my soaked chest, and he turned away with a flash of disgust. "Didn’t I tell you not to come into my study?"

Water trickled down my face, slid over my chest, and soaked through the white blouse I wore. I knew exactly what he was thinking—that I was trying to seduce him again. Fine. I gave him the satisfaction.

I wiped my face, undid the top two buttons of my shirt, and exposed the smooth line of my collarbone. "I was just worried my husband’s excessive desire might burn up his liver."

His eyes flinched toward the glimpse of skin before his face twisted. "Don’t think marriage gives you the right to dream. I will never fall in love with you."

I stayed silent. But his tone grew colder, his words sharper. "I’ll be responsible for you, that’s all. Stop deluding yourself."

What a joke. The man could be aroused just by Loren’s voice, but I could strip naked in front of him and he’d recoil.

My nails dug into my palms to keep myself from exploding.

I grabbed his sleeve. "Do you even know what day it is today?"

I regretted it immediately.

"What now? Didn’t I tell you to stay out if there’s nothing urgent?" He pried my fingers off like I was some disgusting burden.

I felt the embarrassment crawl up my throat, but I forced a smile anyway. My eyes fell to the faint lipstick smudge on his collar—soft pink, definitely not mine. My mind flashed back to that photo: the tenderness in his eyes as he kissed Loren.

He never loved me. He married me because of a sense of duty. I knew that. But I didn’t expect that with time, duty would turn to contempt.

Even our son preferred Loren. Even he told me to get lost.

Loren—the eternal heroine of our shared life. She always had to win. She always did.

But it didn’t matter anymore.

Seven years. That’s all it was.

"Tomorrow’s seminar is critical for the institute’s future funding. As the core member, you’re expected to attend," I said coolly, buttoning my blouse as I turned to leave.

Arthur snorted. "I told you—I don’t waste time on those shallow business exchanges. I’m not going."

I didn’t even glance back. "Loren’s company will be there too."

A pause. Then his voice, low but decisive: "Fine. I’ll go."

My heart clenched.

Right on cue. Mention Loren, and he would toss aside every principle.