Hours Apart

After five years of marriage, Tristan Shaw and I were famously known as a respectful but detached couple.

He was notorious in our social circle for his absolute selfcontrol, and he was no exception even with his wife.

Even when making love, he would discuss the timing and position with me in advance. But when I was five months pregnant, Tristan lost control.

That night, he came home drunk from a business dinner. The moment he walked through the door, he scooped me up, carried me to the bedroom, and impatiently tore open my collar.

I thought he had just held back for too long during my pregnancy, so I did my best to cooperate. But I never expected him to call out "Vivian" over and over as he labored over me.

Thinking I had misheard, I asked, "What? Who is Vivian?" "Vivian... Vivian Burke," the man whispered, quickening his pace beneath me. "I've waited five years for you.

You're finally back." Cecilia's POV A cold shudder ripped through me. I shoved Tristan off with every ounce of my strength, scrambled out of bed, and fled the room.

I don't know how much time passed, but Tristan was already fast asleep. I pushed open the door to Tristan's study and stepped inside.

He had always forbidden me from entering his study, claiming that since our marriage was a business alliance, it was best to avoid any conflict of interest.

Even at the company, he never allowed me to participate in core business matters. As soon as I pushed open the study door, I froze.

The floortoceiling bookshelves that covered the entire wall were filled with picture frames.

Every single one of them was a photo of the same girl, who actually looked seventy to eighty percent like me.

On the back of each photo, written in neat handwriting, was: My beloved Vivian. An open diary lay on the desk, with every single page recording Tristan's longing and love for Vivian Burke.

The computer screen was glowing, and the desktop wallpaper was a photo of Tristan and Vivian kissing when they were teenagers.

So this was the real reason he had never let me set foot in here. It wasn't about avoiding corporate secrets. It was because the study hid the secrets of his white moonlight.

Tristan's WeChat was still logged in on the computer, and a chat group with his close friends showed messages from just a short while ago: "I heard Vivian Burke is coming back tomorrow?" "She was so ruthless to Tristan back then.

After they broke up, she deleted all his contact info on the spot, went abroad, and left absolutely no room for reconciliation.

What is she coming back for now?" "Apparently, she's planning to settle down in the country for good and stop drifting around abroad." "Then what about Tristan?

Cecilia is already five months pregnant!" "Who doesn't know that Cecilia is just a substitute?

If Tristan hadn't seen how much her vibe resembled Vivian's, would he have agreed to marry her?" "Remember how Tristan was when he was with Vivian?

When her mother's heirloom fell into the lake, Tristan jumped right in to find it for her in the freezing cold, risking his life.

She said she wanted cake, and Tristan drove across half the city in the middle of the night to buy it for her. Look at how he treats Cecilia.

Calling them 'polite but distant' is already a nice way of putting it.

To be blunt, they're barely acquainted." "Yeah, during his five years of marriage to Cecilia, Tristan flew to France once every single month just to catch a distant glimpse of Vivian.

Five years—that's sixty trips. If that's not love, I don't know what is." My tears fell silently, dripping onto the keyboard. The messages didn't stop there.

Finally, a familiar profile picture popped up. Tristan Shaw: "Keep your mouths shut. Cecilia doesn't have a good temper.

Don't let her find out about me and Vivian." The others immediately started teasing him: "Got it, got it! Our lips are sealed.

So Tristan, now that Vivian is back, what are you going to do about Cecilia?" After a long silence, Tristan replied: "My marriage to Cecilia is just a business alliance.

There has never been any love between us." A crucial piece of me finally broke. I was originally the heiress of the Vance family of New York.

During college, I met the young master of the Shaw family of Los Angeles, Tristan Shaw, at an intercollegiate event.

He had been calm, composed, elegant, and aloof while speaking at the event, yet after it ended, he squatted on the ground to feed a stray dog.

That version of Tristan made me fall head over heels. Later, I heard from my father that the centuriesold Shaw family's business was on a decline.

I convinced my father to bring a tenbilliondollar investment and core projects to negotiate a marriage alliance with the Shaw family.

At that time, Tristan had not officially taken over the Shaw Group and was unaware of the family crisis.

To protect his pride, I intentionally kept him in the dark about all the support the Vance family provided to the Shaw family.

At first, Tristan was indifferent to me after our marriage, treating me like a business partner.

But gradually, he began to stay by my side all night when I was sick, and he would personally cook for me on our anniversaries.

I thought his heart had finally melted under my warmth. But I never expected that someone else had been living in his heart all along. In his eyes, I was merely a marriage partner.

Vivian Burke was his white moonlight. Since five years hadn't earned me his true feelings, I wouldn't wait anymore.

Caressing my slightly protruding lower abdomen, I dialed my brother Julian Vance's number: "Julian, I want to leave Tristan." There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by an explosive roar. "Did that bastard Tristan bully you?

Tell me! I'll go settle the score with him!" "No. Julian, I regret marrying him." After another brief silence. "Just wait.

I'll have the lawyers draft a divorce agreement for you right now. As soon as I return to the country next month, I'll take a private jet to pick you up!"

Cecilia's POV I didn't go back to the master bedroom and went straight to the guest room to rest. Just as I was starting to feel drowsy, the door was pushed open.

Tristan stood outside the door, looking slightly drunk. "Why isn't there any hangover soup?" In the past, no matter how late he stayed out for business dinners, there would always be a warm bowl of hangover soup waiting on his nightstand.

His alcoholsoaked clothes would be taken off and replaced with comfortable pajamas. Sometimes, I would even help wipe down his body. He had grown used to it.

But this time, when he woke up thirsty in the middle of the night, there was no hangover soup, no one to take care of his clothes, and the space beside him was empty. "I forgot," I said, keeping my back to the door without turning around.

Tristan's heavy gaze fell upon me. After an unknown amount of time, the guest room door closed once again. I kept my eyes open, unable to sleep the entire night.

The next morning, when I stepped out of the guest room, Tristan had already changed and was ready to go out.

Seeing me, Tristan gave me a slight nod as usual, which passed for a greeting. "I have things to attend to today, so I won't be going to the office.

Have the driver take you." Since both of us worked at Shaw Group, we naturally commuted together every morning. I was about to say that I wasn't going either.

But Tristan had already walked out the door without waiting for my response. I knew what he was busy with today.

Vivian Burke was returning to the country today, and he was going to pick her up at the airport.

To pick up his white moonlight first love, the workaholic Tristan Shaw had actually skipped work, which was incredibly rare. The front door closed, and his footsteps faded away.

I stood up and began to pack my things. I didn't have strong materialistic desires, so I didn't own many personal belongings.

My clothes, food, and daily necessities had always been purchased by Tristan's assistant, all fitting the standard of the young mistress of the Shaw family.

Tristan had never mistreated me in this regard. Any piece of jewelry picked from my cabinet at random was auctiongrade.

The entire wall of limitededition bags didn't have a single one worth less than seven figures.

In addition, the gifts I had given Tristan over the years were all priceless and meticulously selected.

I gathered all of these items and directly contacted the charity I regularly donated to. "Please send someone over today to pick up a batch of donated goods.

I will make a list of the jewelry and bags." The representative arrived shortly, taking away those luxury items with endless gratitude.

My fiveyear marriage with Tristan looked very respectable to outsiders.

We lived in the same villa, worked at the same Shaw Group, left in the same car in the morning, and returned home together at night.

But in reality, we spoke less to each other at home than we did during a single meeting at the company.

If Tristan hadn't occasionally posted photos of us together at public events on his WeChat Moments, the public would probably have assumed we were divorced.

At that thought, I mindlessly opened Tristan's Moments page. I scrolled down for a long time, only to find that even the few posts containing photos of us had disappeared.

I scrolled back to five years ago—even the photos of our wedding day had been deleted. His thoughts weren't hard to guess.

Now that his white moonlight was back, she would feel uncomfortable seeing those photos. It wasn't surprising, really.

He had never had any photos of me in his phone's photo album or on his office desk, while his study was covered with pictures of Vivian Burke.

It only made sense that he would wipe away all traces of me from his social media now. At three in the afternoon, the front door opened.

I was sitting in the living room reading a book when I looked up and saw Tristan walking in with a woman. He clearly hadn't expected me to be home.

His footsteps paused slightly, and his expression stiffened for a brief second before returning to normal.

Before he could speak, the woman smiled and stepped forward. "You must be Ms. Vance. It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

I'm Vivian Burke, Tristan's high school classmate." Her manner was warm and graceful, as if the two of them really were just old classmates. "I just got back to the country today, and Tristan came to pick me up.

But the booking system at the hotel I reserved was having issues. Tristan was kind enough to let me crash here for the night. You don't mind, do you, Ms.

Vance?" My hand slowly clenched the pages of my book, wrinkling them. After a moment, I looked up, wearing my usual gentle smile. "Please make yourself at home, Ms.

Burke." Tristan kept his eyes on me. After all, he had expected me to show some resistance, or at least look a bit aggrieved. Or at the very least, displeased.

That would have been the normal reaction of a wife. I ignored him and went back to reading the book in my hands. His lips parted as if he was about to say something.

Just then, his assistant called, saying there was an urgent matter to handle. He had no choice but to give Vivian Burke an apologetic look before turning to head to his study.

Vivian Burke immediately began touring the villa on her own, making herself right at home as if she owned the place.

Before she had gone far, a brown shadow rushed out from the corner and leaped straight into her arms. "Andy!" Vivian crouched down, wrapping her arms around the large dog's neck, unable to hide her delight. "You're still here!

Tristan has taken such good care of you!" She looked up and told me. "This is a stray dog Tristan and I rescued together in high school.

I stopped caring for him after I went abroad, but I didn't expect Tristan to take such amazing care of him after all these years." Andy was Tristan's most treasured pet.

He never allowed anyone to touch him, including me. He fed and walked him personally every day, and even carried him to the vet himself when he fell sick.

When we first got married, I wanted to help feed him once, but Tristan calmly stopped me. "He's shy around strangers.

Don't scare him." In five years, I had never once touched this dog.

Vivian had already stood up, her gaze scanning over to the Lego castle displayed right in the middle of the living room showcase. "This is the birthday present I gave him during our senior year of high school.

He actually kept it!" She turned her head to look at the oil painting hanging on the wall. "I just painted this for fun back then.

I can't believe he framed it and hung it up all this time." I finally understood where that oil painting and Lego castle—both completely mismatching the style of the living room—had come from.

They were all physical proof of his deep longing for his white moonlight. Vivian walked over to the French window.

Seeing the blooming roses in the garden, her voice went up half an octave. "Oh my gosh, he actually planted them!

I told him once that I wanted to fill my future garden with roses." Those roses were rare varieties Tristan had gathered from all over the world, and he had personally turned the soil, fertilized, and pruned them. "Wow, and this house...

I casually mentioned once that I liked French vintage, and Tristan actually remembered!" Vivian was still excitedly babbling about fireplaces and crystal chandeliers, but I could no longer hear her clearly.

The house I had lived in for five years was customtailored for Vivian Burke in every single detail.

The sight of this house became so blindingly painful that I found it hard to breathe. Vivian stepped closer to me, lowering her voice. "Ms.

Vance, I assume you understand your situation now?" The smile on her gentle face remained unchanged, but her tone turned icy. "The rightful owner is back.

If you know what's good for you, you'll leave on your own." She shot a disdainful glance at my stomach and said contemptuously, "As for the one in your belly, Tristan said only my child will be the heir to the Shaw family." Suppressing the overwhelming chaos in my heart, I took out the divorce agreement and handed it to Vivian Burke. "Since we are on the same page, I'll have to trouble you to help me out, Ms.

Burke. Get him to sign this." I understood things clearly.

Given the entanglements between the Vance and Shaw families, if I directly brought up a divorce, Tristan wouldn't make it easy.

And every document I handed to Tristan was always thoroughly reviewed before he would sign it. But if Vivian was the one who handed it to him, he might not look so closely.

Once Vivian got a clear look at the cover, she froze on the spot. "Are you serious?

You're actually willing to let go of a wealthy family like the Shaws?" My face remained perfectly calm. "I'm different from you, Ms. Burke. You are nothing without Tristan.

But my family, the Vances, doesn't care for the 'wealthy' Shaw family you hold in such high regard." The expression on Vivian's face cracked, and she gritted her teeth. "You!" "What are you two doing?" Tristan's voice rang out abruptly.

Cecilia's POV "Nothing. Just showing Ms. Burke around the house," I replied naturally, showing no sign of anything being amiss.

Tristan's gaze swept over the two of us, a hint of guilt flashing through the depths of his eyes.

Even though this house was supposed to be our matrimonial home, he had built it with Vivian Burke in mind during the design process. He quickly looked away. "Dinner is ready.

Let's eat." The dining table was filled with a feast of dishes, looking and smelling absolutely delicious.

I could tell that this wasn't the chef's work; Tristan had made every single dish himself. Vivian sat down, her eyes lighting up. "These are all my favorites!

Tristan, you actually remembered!" She took a bite, her eyes curving into crescent moons as she smiled. "This tastes way better than before.

Did you practice in secret?" Tristan's lips curled up slightly, though he remained silent. In recent years, he rarely cooked, only doing so when the mood struck him.

But every single time, it was always these exact dishes.

I had always thought they were his personal favorites, and over the past five years, I had even gone out of my way to learn how to make them just to surprise him.

Now I realized he was just practicing. He was preparing for the day Vivian Burke returned, so he could personally cook for her. "By the way, Tristan, where is your study?

Can I go pick some books to read later?" Vivian asked casually. The gaze Tristan directed at her was as gentle as spring water. "Of course you can.

I'll take you up after we finish eating." My hand froze. I had asked the exact same question during our first week of marriage. Yet, the answer I received was the complete opposite.

For five years, Tristan had never allowed me to enter his study. Finding the food completely tasteless, I put down my chopsticks and went upstairs.

From behind me came Vivian's laughter and Tristan's lowtoned responses. No one noticed my departure.

I had barely eaten a few bites of dinner, and after a while, the baby in my belly started protesting.

I went downstairs to find some food, and my steps faltered as I passed the study door.

The door was left slightly ajar, and the cozy, cheerful laughter of two people drifted out from inside.

Vivian's voice was filled with pleasant surprise: "I can't believe you still kept all these photos after so many years." Tristan spoke with a rare, gentle tenderness. "I've always kept them." "What about me, then?" Vivian's tone turned serious. "Do you still have a place for me in your heart?" After a moment of silence, I heard a flurry of hurried, muffled breathing and the sound of lips pressing together.

After a long while, Tristan's voice sounded as if it had been scorched by fire. "Do you even need to ask?" I stood outside the study door, leaning my hand against the wall.

The sound of kissing echoed once more. I could no longer feel any hunger, and I forgot what I had even come out for. I turned around and went back to my room.

After an unknown amount of time, the bedroom door was pushed open. Tristan walked in carrying a bowl of soup. "You're pregnant, and you barely ate anything for dinner.

I had the kitchen brew this. Drink it while it's hot." I looked at the bowl of soup, an indescribable bitterness rising in my heart.

On the night of his reunion with his white moonlight, it was truly a wonder that he still remembered his pregnant wife hadn't eaten dinner.

I was indeed hungry, so I took the bowl and drank it down, sip by sip. Tristan took the empty bowl, set it down, and pulled me into his arms. "Can we tonight?

I'll be gentle." ” I was taken aback. His white moonlight was right next door, and yet he still had the mind to do this with me?

His body pressed against mine, the scent of Vivian Burke's perfume invading my nose. I turned my head away and pushed him off. “It's not convenient.” Tristan Shaw's brow furrowed.

We had always been highly compatible in this area, and I had never really rejected him before.

Feeling frustrated, he refused to let it go. “Why isn't it convenient?” As he spoke, he stubbornly leaned closer, gripping my chin as he prepared to kiss me.

I was just trying to figure out how to push him away when the bedroom door was flung open. Vivian Burke stood at the doorway, her eyes rimmed with red. “I'm so sorry!

I just went downstairs to get some water and accidentally sprained my ankle. I'm sorry to interrupt you...” The moment he saw Vivian Burke, Tristan Shaw's pupils shrank.

He shoved me away instantly, as if he had been burned. The small of my back slammed directly into the corner of the bed.

A sharp, shooting pain flared up, instantly breaking me out in a cold sweat. Even my lower abdomen began to ache dully.

But Tristan Shaw had already rushed to the door in a panic, scooping Vivian Burke up in his arms. “Don't panic! I'll take care of it.” His footsteps faded into the distance.

Tristan Shaw didn't even notice me clutching my stomach in pain. Supporting myself against the edge of the bed, I stood up and went to look for the firstaid kit on my own.

As I passed by Vivian Burke's room, the door was wide open. Tristan Shaw was kneeling on one knee, holding Vivian Burke's ankle, gently massaging it with utmost care. “Does it hurt?

Is it swollen?” “It's just a slight sprain. It's no big deal.” Vivian Burke smiled, trying to pull her foot back. Tristan didn't let go.

Instead, he gently tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “How could it be a small matter?

Girls are delicate and afraid of pain.” Once before, I had cut my finger while chopping vegetables. Blood had poured out, and the pain made tears stream down my face uncontrollably.

Tristan had treated my wound then too. His movements were highly efficient, but his face had been completely expressionless. At the time, he had said, “It's just a minor cut.

Why are you being so delicate?” The exact same kind of pain, but for a different person, the response was worlds apart.

A moment later, Vivian Burke suddenly lowered her head and spoke in a soft voice: “Tristan, did I interrupt you and Ms. Vance?

You two just now...” “ No.” Tristan Shaw replied without a second of hesitation. “She is carrying my child, after all, so I can't just ignore her.

But you're the only one in my heart.” Vivian Burke's tears began to fall. “Then promise me you won't be intimate with her anymore, okay?

I know I have no right to say this, but seeing you hold her... it really hurts.” Aching with sympathy, Tristan quickly pulled her into his arms to comfort her. “Okay.

I won't touch her anymore.” He gently patted Vivian Burke's back. “Silly girl. Don't you know that for the past five years, I flew abroad to see you every single month?

Only when I'm with you do I lose control.” Vivian Burke looked up at him with teary eyes. “Then what about her? We can't keep leaving Ms. Vance in such an awkward position forever.

Being an unloved third party... it's not fair to anyone.” I couldn't bear to listen to another word. I turned and walked away.

The next day, after breakfast, Vivian Burke made a suggestion. “Tristan, can you take me around the old town? I haven't been back in so many years.

I want to see if the places we used to visit are still there.” Tristan Shaw agreed without a moment's hesitation. “I'll go with you.” Vivian Burke immediately put on a troubled expression, casting a glance in my direction. “Isn't that a bit inappropriate?

After all, you're a married man. If the two of us go out alone and someone sees us, it won't look good...” Tristan Shaw glanced at me. “Cecilia will come along too.”

Cecilia's POV Just as I was about to refuse, Tristan Shaw had already ushered me out the door. Vivian Burke was already sitting in the passenger seat.

When she saw me approaching, she immediately made a move to get out. “ I'm so sorry, Ms. Vance. I'm just used to sitting in the front passenger seat.

I'll get out right now.” Tristan Shaw pulled open the back door. “You get motion sickness, so stay where you are.” “ Cecilia, you sit in the back.” As the car pulled onto the main road, Vivian Burke started chatting away. “Tristan, do you remember the ginkgo tree by the school's back gate?

Every autumn, you would help me gather leaves to make bookmarks.” Tristan Shaw's lips curled up slightly. “I remember.

The books in the school library were filled with your bookmarks.” Vivian Burke laughed and patted his arm. The two of them bantered back and forth, reminiscing about high school.

Their chemistry was so seamless, it was as if they had traveled ten years back in time. I sat in the back seat, like an irrelevant bystander.

Whenever Tristan Shaw turned his head to look at Vivian Burke, his eyes were filled with nothing but tender affection, and his tone was completely different from usual.

It turned out that the usually cold and quiet Mr. Shaw also had such a warm and talkative side. When we were first married, Tristan Shaw and I used to commute to work together.

Back then, I also liked chatting about trivial little things in the car.

Once, as I was enthusiastically sharing something, Tristan Shaw hadn't even turned his head. “I'm not interested in any of this.” After that, I gradually stopped speaking.

The car pulled up in front of a dessert shop. Vivian Burke pushed open the car door cheerfully. “This shop is actually still here!

We used to sneak out every day at lunchtime during high school just to eat here.” Smiling, Tristan Shaw reached out and tapped Vivian Burke's forehead. “You have the nerve to say that?

Someone insisted on eating iced buns with hawthorn filling during her period, and wound up doubled over in pain.

You forced me to sneak out during evening study to buy you a heating pad, only for me to get caught redhanded by the homeroom teacher and made to stand in the hallway for the whole period.” Vivian Burke stuck her tongue out. “I just really wanted to eat it.” The three of us walked into the shop.

The owner's face lit up with pleasant surprise upon seeing Tristan Shaw and Vivian Burke. “Tristan! Vivian! I haven't seen you two in so many years! Are you married now?

Any kids?” Tristan Shaw's smile stiffened. He quickly wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me forward. “You have the wrong idea.

This is my wife.” The owner gave an embarrassed laugh. “Ah, I'm getting old and muddled! The usual, then?

Iced hawthorn cake?” Tristan Shaw nodded. “Yes, three portions.” When three iced buns with hawthorn filling were served, Tristan Shaw and Vivian Burke ate with great relish.

Only after Vivian Burke had finished her portion did she look at the untouched iced bun sitting in front of me. “Why aren't you eating, Ms. Vance?

Is it not to your liking?” “Pregnant women can't eat hawthorn.” Tristan Shaw's hand froze, the smile fading from his face. “Cecilia, I'm sorry, I didn't realize.” I had already stood up. “Are you finished?

Let's go if you are.” I stepped out of the little shop ahead of them, not waiting. On the streets of the old town, Vivian Burke and Tristan Shaw walked in front.

As they strolled, they pointed at the shops along the street, reminiscing about the past. “That stationery shop is still open!

I picked out a birthday present for you there back then.” “It closed long ago. A new owner took over and reopened it later.” Tristan Shaw walked on the outer side of Vivian Burke.

Whenever a cyclist passed by, he would reach out to guide her toward the inside of the sidewalk.

When a few playing children ran toward them, Tristan Shaw immediately wrapped his arm around Vivian Burke's waist, pulling her protectively into his chest.

When Vivian Burke's shoelaces came undone, Tristan Shaw knelt down to tie them for her. Walking behind them, I was left further and further behind.

At five months pregnant, my body felt heavier and heavier. My lower back ached terribly, and I simply couldn't keep up with their pace.

They walked far ahead, laughing and chatting, having long since forgotten about me. I stopped, hailed a cab, and went straight home.

Long after I arrived home, Tristan Shaw never once called to check on me. That night, Tristan Shaw did not come home.

The next morning, I went to the office as usual, planning to wrap up my work for the final few days.

The moment I walked through the doors of the Shaw Group, I sensed a strange atmosphere. Everyone looked at me with complex, indescribable expressions.

I didn't understand what was happening until I passed the lounge and overheard the gossip inside. “Did you guys see yesterday afternoon? Mr.

Shaw personally brought that Vivian Burke to the office.” “See? That's putting it lightly. Mr. Shaw directly appointed her as the Director of the Strategic Development Department.

She's Manager Vance's direct superior now.” “Manager Vance has been with the company for five years, climbing up to senior manager step by step through performance reviews.

Vivian Burke gets to be a director the second she arrives, and even takes over the collaboration project with Apex Group—that's a twobilliondollar deal.” “And did you see how Mr.

Shaw looked at her yesterday? His eyes were filled with nothing but love. Sigh.” “Manager Vance is quite pitiful.

She's the actual CEO's wife, yet she's only a senior manager after five years.

Meanwhile, this other woman parachutes in as her boss on day one, takes the biggest project, and expects Manager Vance to do the grunt work for her.

It's pretty obvious who he loves and who he doesn't.” I sneered inwardly. In reality, the collaboration with Apex Group was a gift from me to the Shaw family.

The majority shareholder of Apex Group was a whollyowned subsidiary of Vance Holdings.

The funding, channels, and client resources for this partnership all came from the Vance family.

But to spare Tristan Shaw's pride, I had hidden all traces of the Vance family's involvement.

Once I left the Shaw Group and the Vance family withdrew its resources, what became of this project would go without saying.

Vivian Burke still treated this project like some prize jewel, cradling it in her hands with smug satisfaction. Little did she know, it was a hot potato.

Free lunches in this world always come with a price.

Vivian Burke called me into the director's office and slid the divorce papers in front of me. “Manager Vance, I did the favor you asked of me.” I opened the document.

Tristan Shaw had already signed it. I didn't care to ask how Vivian Burke had managed it.

I muttered a quick thanks and turned to leave. “ Manager Vance,” Vivian Burke called out from behind me, unable to hide the smugness in her voice. “Aren't you going to ask what Tristan and I did last night?” I didn't turn around. “ Do whatever you want.

I don't care.” I pushed the door open, only to run straight into Tristan Shaw.

He had clearly overheard my last sentence, and his gaze darkened. “What's that in your hand?” Vivian Burke followed close behind. “It's nothing, Tristan.

Just a few project coordination documents.

I'm new and not very familiar with the procedures, so I asked Manager Vance to review them with me.” Tristan Shaw didn't look at Vivian Burke.

He stared directly at my face, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me back into his office. “Vivian had a stomachache last night, so I took her to the hospital.

It was just a medical checkup. We didn't do anything.” I nodded. “Alright.

I understand.” Tristan Shaw scrutinized me with an unreadable expression, then continued to explain. “I admit I hid things from you last time.

She is my first love, but she and I are in the past. My wife now is you.” I wanted to laugh. A “past” first love, whom he had held and kissed repeatedly in our matrimonial home.

And he claimed they had done nothing? “Okay. Anything else?” I looked at him calmly. Tristan Shaw looked dazed for a moment, and then seemed slightly uneasy.

He stared at me for a long time before softening his tone again. “She just returned to the country and has no foundation here; I'm the only one she can rely on.

Making her director is to help her get a foothold.

You have strong capabilities, so assist her more.” After saying all this, not a single word was spent asking why I hadn't kept up yesterday, or if anything had happened to me. “I'm currently pregnant and can't overexert myself.

I'm afraid I won't be of much help to her.” Tristan Shaw's face flushed with irritation and embarrassment. “There's a class reunion tonight to welcome Vivian back.

You're my wife, so you should come too.” “I don't want to go.” Tristan Shaw would not drop the matter. “There is nothing going on between us.

You're coming so you don't overthink things.”

Cecilia's POV The private dining room was lively, filled entirely with Tristan Shaw and Vivian Burke's high school classmates.

Many of them had seen me at Tristan Shaw's wedding, and their eyes now held a touch of subtle pity. After a few rounds of drinks, the atmosphere grew lively.

A slightly tipsy male classmate stood up, holding a glass of wine. “Listen up, everyone! Our Mr. Shaw and Vivian were the school's golden couple back then. Who didn't know them?

After all these years, they've finally reunited.

Tonight, they must drink a crosscupped wine toast to reminisce about their youth!” The entire table erupted into teasing and cheering.

Tristan Shaw held his glass without moving, instinctively casting a glance at me. I was looking down, scrolling through my phone, not even lifting my eyelids.

He felt a tight sensation in his chest. A female classmate noticed Tristan Shaw's gaze and smiled as she turned to me. “Ms.

Vance wouldn't mind, would she?” I looked up, offering a generous smile. “Of course not.

It's completely normal for classmates to reminisce about their youth.” The cheering grew even louder.

Tristan Shaw and Vivian Burke raised their glasses, linking their arms together. They were so close they could feel each other's breath.

Vivian Burke's cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining as she looked up at Tristan Shaw, filled with shyness and anticipation. Tristan Shaw's expression was complex.

Holding his glass, he couldn't help but glance at me again. I was holding up my phone, recording them, and even laughing as I chatted with the person next to me.

Tristan Shaw's face darkened. He withdrew his gaze, held Vivian Burke's arm, and drained his glass in one gulp. Setting his glass down, his eyes immediately searched for me again.

I was sharing the video I had just taken with the person sitting next to me, the two of us laughing over the screen.

Tristan Shaw remained silent, his face grim, filled with an indescribable irritation.

As the gathering dispersed, Vivian Burke was drunk and incoherent, unable to even stand steadily.

Tristan Shaw supported her, then turned to say to me: “She's drunk, so I'm going to take her to a hotel.

The driver will be here to pick you up shortly.” Having said that, he gently helped Vivian Burke toward the exit. I followed them out of the clubhouse.

It had started raining outside at some point. The night wind rushed over us, carrying a bitter chill, and the temperature plummeted.

Shivering from the cold, Vivian Burke wrapped her arms around herself, muttering that it was freezing. Tristan Shaw glanced at the coat I was wearing. “Cecilia, lend her your coat.

Vivian has a weak constitution and can't handle the cold wind.” His tone was resolute and matteroffact, leaving absolutely no room for refusal.

Tristan Shaw left with Vivian Burke. Clad in only a thin dress, I stood at the entrance of the clubhouse waiting for the car.

It took a full halfhour before the driver finally arrived. Upon returning home, I began to sneeze, and by midnight, I was running a high fever.

Since pregnant women can't take medication lightly, I could only tough it out. In my feverish daze, I could vaguely see a figure bustling beside my bed.

Wringing out a towel, checking my forehead temperature, and tucking in the sheets. I struggled to open my eyes. It was Tristan Shaw. Guilt was written all over his face.

Seeing that I was awake, he immediately leaned closer. “I didn't think things through. I thought you had a strong constitution and wouldn't mind the cold.

I didn't expect it to make you this sick.” I didn't have the energy to respond.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought about it; he simply didn't want Vivian Burke to catch even the slightest chill.

As for whether I, a pregnant woman, could withstand it, it hadn't even crossed his mind at the time.

Tristan Shaw turned around and went to the kitchen, returning with a bowl of hot soup. “I made some soup for you.

Have some; running a fever on an empty stomach will only make it worse.” Just as he was about to hand it to me, his phone rang.

Tristan Shaw glanced at the caller ID, and his face instantly changed. “What? A stomachache?

I'll be right over!” He hung up the phone and pulled the bowl back. “Vivian's old stomach issue is flaring up; she gets a stomachache whenever her stomach is empty.

I'll take this soup to her first, and then I'll brew another bowl for you. Just wait an hour.” With that, he hurriedly left with the bowl of soup.

Burning with fever, exhausted and weary, I lacked the energy to think about anything else. I had no desire to wait for that bowl of soup that was destined never to arrive.

Closing my eyes, I quickly drifted into a deep sleep. In the middle of the night, I was roughly shaken awake. A pungent odor filled my nostrils.

My head felt like it was splitting open, my chest was tight, and waves of nausea washed over me. It was Martha, the maid, shaking me. “Ma'am! Get up quickly!

Someone forgot to turn off the kitchen stove, the pot has burned dry, and there's a natural gas leak.

We need to get out first!” My head was groggy, my legs felt like jelly, and I couldn't stand up at all. Martha supported me, dragging and carrying me as we ran out of the room.

The moment we burst into the courtyard, my vision went black, and I collapsed. When I woke up, I was in the hospital.

Seeing me awaken, the doctor looked incredibly solemn. “You're pregnant, running a fever, and you inhaled a massive amount of natural gas.

Your heart rate was highly unstable when you were brought in.

One step further, and you would have lost the baby!” My hand instinctively went to protect my belly. “Your pregnancy is currently very unstable.

You must be on strict bed rest. "If this happens again, I can't guarantee you'll be able to keep the baby." The doctor was still going over the precautionary measures.

I listened quietly, my face devoid of emotion. In my mind, images of Tristan Shaw flashed repeatedly—calm, composed, standing at the lecture podium when we first met.

The image that had once captivated me at first sight, binding my heart to him for what felt like ten thousand years, completely collapsed at this moment.

It shattered into dust, leaving absolutely nothing behind. I didn't listen to the doctor's advice to remain hospitalized. I had Martha handle the discharge paperwork for me.

The very first thing I did upon returning home was take a photo of the signed divorce agreement and send it to my lawyer. "Use special channels to expedite the divorce proceedings.

The faster, the better." Next, I dialed Julian Vance's number. "Julian, when are you coming to pick me up?" There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by Julian's instant flare of protective anger. " Did that bastard Tristan bully you again?

Tell me, and I'll skin him alive!" He paused, softening his tone. "I'm returning to the country right now.

I'll definitely be in Los Angeles next week to pick you up!" After hanging up, I gently caressed my belly and whispered softly, "It's okay." "We don't need a father.

I will raise you well all by myself."