Chapter 3

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 low-toned 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 first-aid 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.”