Once Our Contract Marriage Ended, I Married His Uncle

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His Adam’s apple bobbed as he parted his lips to explain.

But I no longer looked at those feigned gentle brows and eyes. I simply turned and walked into the room.

“Last night, Alyssa’s house didn’t have water, so she came here to take a shower,” Elio followed me into the bathroom in long strides. Staring at my thin back, he added, as if to make up for everything, “Didn’t you say you wanted to go shopping? I’ll take you to pick out a few new outfits.”

But then my gaze fell on his toothbrush cup, and I froze. There was an extra toothbrush resting inside.

Elio had severe OCD. He once refused to speak to me for two whole days because I’d accidentally touched his towel.

Yet now that Alyssa had returned, she shared his toothbrush cup. They even had a matching couple of toothbrushes.

My hand began to tremble. The comb slipped from my grasp and clattered onto the floor.

Clutching my aching chest, I bent down to pick it up. When I straightened, Elio had already hurried out.

“There’s something urgent at the company. I’ll go shopping with you another time.”

As his figure quickly disappeared, I began gathering every gift he had ever given me and packed them all into a box.

Dragging the box into the hallway, I suddenly heard the maids downstairs whispering.

“So it’s true? Young Master really plans to divorce Abigail and be with his adopted sister, Alyssa?”

“Of course! Didn’t you see it last night? Miss Alyssa just dirtied her skirt from her period, and Young Master carried her into the bedroom like a princess, right in front of his parents!”

“All those gifts Young Master gave Abigail over the years were actually based on Miss Alyssa’s tastes. And only that fool Abigail cherished them like they were something precious.”

The box slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor, expensive gifts scattering and shattering in all directions.

The noise swallowed every whisper in the house.

I squatted down, silently picking up those things that had never truly belonged to me, and threw them all into the storage room without a word.

By 8 p.m., I was sitting on the steps outside the house, wiping dust off a photo of my late mother.

Suddenly, a delicate piece of Black Forest cake landed in my lap.

Elio’s arms reached around from behind, encircling my waist.

“It’s so cold out here. Why aren’t you inside?”

I stared blankly at the cake in my lap. His warm breath drifted against my ear.

“You girls like desserts, don’t you?”

I had always loved sweets. When we first married, I once told Elio I wanted dessert.

He had sneered in disgust. “Do you just want to eat carelessly, ruin your figure, and disgrace the family’s image? Don’t forget, you’re representing more than yourself now.”

For five years of marriage, just to please him, I gave up every dessert and all the food I loved most.

Now, he was the one handing me the cake.

Seeing I didn’t move, he frowned. “Didn’t you keep pestering me about wanting dessert before?”

I looked up with a blank expression. “It’s too late. I can’t digest it now.”

After a long pause, Elio scoffed coldly and turned away. “I’m going for a run.”

Over half an hour later, I saw a new Instagram post from Alyssa.

[Just because I said I wanted something sweet, a certain big idiot bought every famous dessert in the city. Are you trying to turn me from a spicy little hottie into a chubby pig? But since you’re taking me abroad to have fun, I’ll forgive you.]

In the photo, Elio was carefully placing a mountain of little cakes in front of her.

I silently turned off my phone and began packing my luggage.

It wasn’t until deep into the night that Elio finally came home.

The moment he stepped into the bedroom, a cloying unfamiliar perfume clung to the air, making me nauseous.

His gaze fell on the drawers I had emptied, and his brows drew together.

“I’m going abroad for business soon. If there’s anything you want, send it to me.”

I sank into the pillow, turning my back on him. “No need. There’s nothing I want.”

Only four days left. The only thing I wanted was to leave him.

Annoyed, he threw his suit onto the floor and growled at the back of my head. “Abigail, are you done sulking? Just because breakfast didn’t suit your taste, you’re giving me the cold shoulder over something so trivial?”

Before I could answer, he sneered again. “Who do you think you are? Don’t forget your place. Without me, do you think you’d be living like this?”

With that, he slammed the door and disappeared into the guest room.

In the past, every time he lost his temper, it was always me who tiptoed around afterward, humbly trying to please him and beg for his forgiveness.

But now, I was utterly exhausted.

That night, Elio lay in the guest room, staring at the sliver of light under the door. But no matter how long he waited, the light never revealed the shadow of me coming to make peace.

I used to rise early every morning to prepare his breakfast.

But now, I no longer intended to.

The next morning, I woke up very late.

Elio stormed into the bedroom, his face dark as he shook me awake.

Agitated, he shoved his phone in front of me and barked. “Have this carved for me, a replica, before the afternoon the day after tomorrow!”