The room was cloaked in muted darkness, the only illumination seeping in through the gauzy drapes from the towering city skyline outside. Soft amber light painted delicate patterns across the walls and bed, casting shadows that danced to the rhythm of a sleeping world. It was quiet so achingly quiet that the tick of the vintage wall clock felt deafening. The kind of silence that made even breathing feel like an intrusion.
Jiaxuan lay on her side of the bed, eyes wide open, staring at the expanse of Shenzhi's back. He was turned away from her, chest slowly rising and falling in sleep. His hair was slightly damp from the shower earlier, strands falling across the nape of his neck. Even in sleep, he held himself with a kind of guarded tension, as though he'd built an invisible wall between them even in his dreams.
She stared at him for a long moment. So close. They shared the same bed, the same child, the same vows but the distance between their hearts stretched like a canyon.
Still, tonight felt different. Something inside her ached. Not with the pain of rejection she had grown used to that but with longing. A deep, human desire to just… touch him. To feel his warmth and see if he would recoil or simply let her stay.
Her fingers curled against the sheets as she turned slowly, shifting beneath the covers with silent care. She inched closer, her breath soft against the back of his shirt. She hovered there for a beat just watching him, just breathing him in. He smelled of cedarwood and rain, of something steady and familiar, something once hers.
Jiaxuan's hand reached out, barely brushing the fabric of his pajama shirt. Her fingertips trembled. She had rehearsed this in her mind so many times this need to close the distance, to cross the invisible line he'd drawn.
But her courage faltered. He had changed. Or maybe it was she who had. After all the mistakes, all the pain, who was she to ask for warmth?
Still, her heart refused to surrender.
She tried to drape her arm around him, but as soon as her hand rested on his side, his body shifted almost imperceptibly. He didn't wake. He didn't speak. But the message was clear.
Rejected, Jiaxuan slowly drew her hand back, her eyes burning even in the dark. For a moment, she just lay there, wrapped in her silence, fighting the sting in her chest.
But she couldn't stop.
She leaned in again, slower this time, gentler. She pressed her forehead lightly against his back, like a whisper, like a prayer. Her arms moved around him in the softest embrace a back hug so delicate it could have been imagined.
Her chest pressed against his spine, and she felt the beat of his heart. Strong. Steady. It both comforted and destroyed her.
"I don't know how to love you the way you want me to," she murmured, her voice so soft it nearly dissolved in the air, "but I'm trying. I'm still trying."
She buried her face into his back and inhaled deeply. The tears didn't fall. Not yet. But they shimmered in her eyes like dew on morning leaves.
To him, she might still be the woman who once broke his heart. The woman who left him emotionally scarred. But to her—he was the man she had always loved, even when she didn't know how to show it. Even when he didn't believe it.
And now, she wasn't asking for forgiveness. She was just asking for a chance to stay in this moment. This fragile, stolen moment where she could pretend that they were okay.
Shenzhi' didn't move. Perhaps he was asleep. Or perhaps just perhaps he was awake, listening to the silence between her words, trying to decide if he could let her in.
She closed her eyes and held him tighter.
Because even if he never reached for her again, she would always reach for him.
And maybe, just maybe, one day… he would let her.
Later that night, silence blanketed the room like a soft winter fog. The city's distant hum was reduced to a low whisper against the glass, and the room lay in muted gold from the bedside lamp Jiaxuan had forgotten to turn off. It cast a gentle halo over her sleeping form—calm, delicate, unguarded.
Shenzhi' stirred beneath the covers. He wasn't asleep.
He'd been lying there for a while, unmoving, not because he was particularly tired, but because he was thinking. About her. About this marriage. About how strange it was to share a bed with someone who once shattered his heart—and who now, oddly, seemed to be trying to piece something back together.
But he didn't trust it.
Earlier that evening, she had smiled at him with the same sweetness that once made his blood warm. She had flirted, even called him "honey", as if they were something close again. As if time hadn't passed in bitterness. And although he had given her his black card without a word when she asked to shop for the house, he had kept his expression flat—his heart tighter than ever.
He didn't know she had waited until he'd fallen asleep before inching her way closer to him.
He didn't know she'd hesitated at first, unsure if she was even allowed to seek comfort from him.
He didn't know how carefully she had leaned in, breath slow, heart thudding as she dared to bring her body close—not to disturb him, not to cross a line, but to simply feel his warmth. She hadn't managed to wrap her arms around him properly. She had merely curled behind him, a gentle press of her forehead against his back, whispering something so soft even she wasn't sure if it reached the air.
He didn't stir.
So she eventually stilled. Fell asleep.
Unaware of any of it, Shenzhi' continued to stare at the ceiling. Then his phone vibrated quietly against the nightstand. The sudden noise broke the heavy stillness, and he reached for it, glancing at the bright screen through narrowed eyes.
Li Qian (P.A):
President Shen, the meeting with CEO Meng's food canning company is scheduled for 8:00 a.m. sharp in Conference Room 2B. Documents uploaded. Print copy will be delivered to your desk by 6:30.
Another message followed quickly:
Li Qian:
Also, a representative from Chen Yuze's office requested to attend.
Shenzhi's eyes darkened.
Chen Yuze again.
He sat up slightly, careful not to make noise. Jiaxuan's steady breathing continued undisturbed beside him, her profile soft in the glow of the lamp. She looked like peace. Like the past didn't haunt her.
But he knew better.
He typed quickly:
Shenzhi':
Meeting confirmed. No Chen Yuze. Remove him from the list. I'll deal with the overlap separately.
He hesitated, then added:
Shenzhi':
Add a personal note: no external collaboration or shared data until I've reviewed the proposal myself.
He put the phone down and leaned back into the pillows, arms crossed behind his head.
The idea of Jiaxuan being connected, however remotely, to Chen Yuze was like a thorn under his skin. But she hadn't mentioned anything about the man. Not once. Not today. Not since her return. And despite everything, he wasn't sure if that meant she had truly cut ties… or was simply hiding things again.
Still, a strange image flickered in his mind—her bright smile at the mall earlier, the small box in her hand, the tie she'd picked for him. Her voice when she asked, "Do you like it?"
He hadn't answered.
He didn't want to give her false hope.
But he hadn't rejected it either.
That, in itself, was dangerous.
With a soft sigh, he turned to the side, facing away from her.
Tomorrow would be busy. The food canning deal was serious business. If someone like Chen Yuze wanted in, it meant the stakes were higher than expected.
The room was still, bathed in shadows broken only by the muted city lights sneaking in through the curtains. The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock was the only sound that dared disturb the quiet. But Shenzhi' wasn't asleep.
He lay on his back, his arm behind his head, staring blankly into the ceiling as thoughts swirled like a storm inside him. It was late too late for work, too late for answers but his mind refused to rest. The soft weight beside him reminded him that this was no dream, no illusion born from memory. Jiaxuan was really there. Not just physically, but emotionally, relentlessly present in every quiet glance, every soft smile, every attempt to break down the walls between them again.
What did she ever see in Chen Yuze?
The name alone left a bitter taste in his mouth. Even now, Shenzhi' could not understand it—how someone like Jiaxuan, elegant, intelligent, full of that unshakable grace, could have given herself, her heart, her trust… to that man. A man who wore charm like a mask and greed like perfume. Did she not see through it? Or did she fall for the act?
A dull ache pressed behind his ribs.
The more he tried to reason with it, the more senseless it felt. Had she been naive? Lonely? Or perhaps he hadn't been enough. Not strong enough. Not soft enough. Not what she needed.
He turned slightly, exhaling deeply, trying to push the thoughts away—but then, she stirred.
Jiaxuan, deep in slumber, shifted closer. Her fingers brushed against his chest as if instinctively seeking comfort. Shenzhi' froze, unsure whether to remain still or gently pull away. But before he could decide, she moved again—this time wrapping her arm around him with unexpected intimacy, her head resting near the crook of his shoulder, her breath warm against his skin.
Then, she whispered.
Soft. Almost inaudible.
"Shenzhi'… I would never leave you. Never… for anyone."
The words were so faint, so wrapped in sleep, he almost thought he imagined them.
But her fingers tightened slightly over his chest, and she nestled in closer, as though his heartbeat was the anchor in a dream she didn't want to wake from. Her lips curled faintly, the corners of her mouth lifting in a quiet, blissful smile. She looked… safe. Peaceful. Warm.
Shenzhi's heart clenched.
She had no idea what she was doing to him.
That look on her face—soft, almost childlike—belonged to a woman who had once torn him apart. And yet here she was, fitting so perfectly in the crook of his arm like she had always been meant to be there.
Did she even know how much power she held over him still?
He didn't move.
He couldn't.
The warmth of her body, the echo of her voice, the way she held onto him even in dreams—it cracked through his carefully built walls like light slipping through the seams of a shuttered room.
She said she would never leave him.
But she had.
And yet… here she was again, holding him like she never would.
Was it a lie whispered in sleep?
Or a truth too vulnerable to be spoken while awake?
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to summon calm, trying not to hope.
Because if he let himself hope again if he dared to believe she was still his...he wasn't sure if he could survive losing her one more time.
Shenzhi's hand moved slowly,hesitantly toward her back, aching to pull her closer, to feel her warmth not by accident but by choice. She was so close, her breath brushing his skin, her fingers lightly curled over his chest like a memory she refused to let go of, even in sleep.
He wanted to hold her.
Desperately.
His body yearned for it his chest hollow from the restraint, his heart betraying him with the silent ache that whispered, Just this once… just hold her.
But then—
Her voice echoed in his memory.
"Don't touch me, Shenzhi'. It feels like I'm being forced every time."
The words had been cold, but the pain behind them was colder. It had cut deeper than she would ever know.
His hand stopped mid-air, frozen in place.
The emptiness returned with a vengeance. So, he slowly drew it back. Not because he didn't want to touch her—but because he respected what she had said. Because even if she now smiled at him, called him "honey," even if she whispered promises in her dreams and held onto him like he was home he still didn't know which part of it was real, and which part of it was part of her plan.
So instead, he shut his eyes.
Letting his arm fall gently beside him, not touching her, not tracing the delicate curve of her shoulder, not tucking her hair behind her ear as he used to. Just… lying still.
And as the weight of her sleeping figure pressed softly against him, and her breath lulled into deeper slumber, Shenzhi' buried the longing in the silence of the night.
Because he would rather ache beside her than force a closeness she didn't want.
But gods, how he wanted to believe her when she said his name.
How he wanted to believe she meant it.