Mikayla sat on the edge of the bed, trying to piece together the events. She ran her fingers through her messy hair as her stomach growled at an inconvenient moment.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she stared at the hickey on her neck, lost in thought.
After a moment of indecision, Mikayla slipped on her slippers and padded to the kitchen in search of food, just as Cayden was bringing out lunch.
He raised an eyebrow when he saw her, "Sober now? Sit down and eat." Mikayla froze, "Why are you home?" Normally, this workaholic had plenty of tasks even on weekends. Mikayla had hoped to avoid awkwardness, but here he was, at home?
"No work this weekend," Cayden replied, setting the dishes down.
"Oh." Mikayla stiffly sat on a chair.
The table was set with a large bowl of rich and creamy oatmeal, alongside a plate of savory, freshly pan-fried buttermilk pancakes. Cayden scooped a bowl of oatmeal and placed it before her. Having been hungry all morning, Mikayla savored every bite with great enjoyment.
"Last night…" Cayden began, but Mikayla trembled and interrupted, "I was drunk! I don't remember!" She then buried her head in the bowl like an ostrich.
"Didn't you say you weren't drunk?" Cayden asked with a smile in his eyes.
Mikayla didn't dare look up at him, but she secretly hoped, "Are you going to… fire me?"
Cayden frowned, setting down his fork, and asked seriously, "Why would I fire you? For taking my microphone?"
Why bring up that embarrassing incident again? Mikayla thought to herself, becoming more cautious in her actions.
"Am I that domineering? What kind of image do you have of me?" Cayden asked.
Mikayla's voice was barely a whisper, "…An aloof CEO who doesn't partake in worldly affairs."
"What?" Cayden's brows furrowed deeper, his mouth turned down. Mikayla feared this look the most, as if he could devour her alive, which explained why other employees were so terrified of him.
In their time together, Mikayla had learned a skill: when in doubt, apologize first.
"I was wrong." Mikayla looked up at Cayden and, after a pause, added, "If you don't like me, we can go get a div—"
Before she could finish the word "divorce," Cayden stuffed buttermilk pancakes into her mouth. Mikayla blinked, unsure what to do.
"Mikayla, do you hate me?" Cayden's fierce gaze was chilling.
Mikayla stammered, "Not really…"
"I just want a divorce." She looked into his deep eyes, feeling unsure.
"Why?"
"Weren't you also forced by your family? What's the point of dragging this out?"
Cayden stared into Mikayla's clear eyes but found himself speechless. He wanted to tell her that he had liked her for a long time and that he wouldn't let go. Despite their passionate encounter last night, he realized he still couldn't reach her heart.
"Have I treated you badly?" Cayden countered. Mikayla was taken aback, her bravado diminishing. In truth, Cayden was impeccable in every way.
Mikayla knew this, but the absurdity of their marriage made her want to end it quickly.
She opened her mouth but couldn't say a word, feeling a pang of guilt.
After a moment, Cayden said, "Come home with me this weekend to meet my parents."
Cayden feared she might utter the word "divorce." He lowered his head, hiding his disappointment, and simply said, "Finish your meal."
Silence fell between them.
Back in her room, Mikayla called her best friend Linda, "Hello, what's up?"
"Why do you think he doesn't want a divorce?"
Linda was momentarily speechless, "I'm not Cayden, how should I know? Not everyone thinks like you."
"Is it so wrong to want a divorce and become a rich woman? We have no feelings for each other. Why won't he let go?"
Linda casually replied, "Maybe he likes you."
Images flashed through Mikayla's mind. She was stunned for a moment and decided that she would find a chance to ask him directly.
