Sidney played the role of a night owl quite well. At 2 AM, after finishing a rerun of a drama, she headed upstairs to sleep. As usual, she turned on all the lights in the master bedroom and bathroom, thinking that Jayson probably wouldn't return so late, and she lay in the center of the bed in a starfish position. Just as she was enjoying a rare dreamless, deep sleep, she felt something heavy covering her. Something wet and soft slid across her face, making her uncomfortable. She pulled up the blanket and buried her head inside, but unexpectedly, a strong force yanked the blanket away. Sidney instantly woke up and saw Jayson leaning over her, his eyes bloodshot as he stared at her.
Sidney clutched the blanket tightly. "What are you doing back here?"
Jayson grinned, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "I've got a beautiful lady waiting for me at home, how could I not come back?"
Sidney saw the mischievous glint in his eyes, his words slurred and carefree, and she knew he was truly drunk this time. With a grunt, she wriggled out from under him, using all her strength to slip free. She hurried to grab a wet towel, hoping it would help sober him up a bit.
Sidney gently pressed the damp towel to his face, urging him to lie back. He closed his eyes, his hand resting softly over hers, where she held the towel. There was a moment of stillness, as if the weight of the night and his drunkenness had momentarily softened the sharpness between them.
"Honey..."
It was the first time he had called her "wife," and Sidney felt a strange, uncomfortable twist in her chest. The word didn't sit right with her—too foreign, too intimate in a way she wasn't ready for. It felt like a weight, like something that shouldn't belong to them, at least not yet. She didn't respond out loud, thinking that he was just drunk.
"I have finished drinking all the hangover cure you made for me."
"…"
"Honey, there's also an anti-hangover remedy in the office, but I think yours tastes better." He spoke in a low, sweet voice.
Sidney felt strange and creeped out by Jayson's overly affectionate behavior, and she felt goosebumps all over her body.
"It seems that the sobering tea didn't work. You're drunk," Sidney helped him take off his socks and unbuttoned his shirt before covering him with a blanket.
When she leaned over to cover him with a blanket, Jayson opened his eyes and looked at her, and they couldn't help but meet each other's gaze. There was a tenderness in his eyes that she had never seen before.
Sidney was deeply drawn in by his gaze, sitting at the edge of the bed and locking eyes with him. After a while, when he still hadn't rested, she finally spoke. "Good night. It's almost dawn."
"Sidney... do you think I'm just some kind of careless person? That I married you on a whim and have no problem fooling around with other women?"
"..." Sidney took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and remained silent.
"I... I want that too, you know? A life where we hold hands and grow old together. Do you think that's something we could have?" he said quietly, almost as if to himself, but also as if genuinely asking her.
"…"
"I've also thought about what true love really is. Some people love me, but I don't love them; some love me, but I doubt them. It wasn't until much later that I realized I knew what love actually looks like. Do you know?"
Sidney felt the topic was too heavy. He didn't seem drunk, but rather as if he were pretending to be crazy with alcohol, otherwise, how could he be thinking about these things?
"Love is patient, love is kind," she casually quoted a line from the truth of love.
Jayson burst into loud laughter.
"Don't think you're funny!"
"..." Sidney started to feel impatient, thinking she shouldn't waste any more time with him. She was tired.
"Love is thinking about someone all the time, willing to do everything that's good for her."
"..." Those words made Sidney's nose suddenly tingle with emotion.
"You may have a sharp tongue, but you've been pretty well-behaved. You make me hangover tea, tell me not to smoke, not to drink... Actually, in my heart, I'm quite... hehe..."
"Jayson..." Sidney truly wasn't used to him like this. He sounded like a young man in the throes of first love, spilling his heart so freely, completely unlike his usual self. "How did your mother pass away?"
"...Why ask about that?" He wiped the smile off his face and looked at her with his red eyes.
"I want to know."
The room was brightly lit, and his expression was fully visible. She saw hatred, and a trace of sadness. This man, whose emotions were on full display, was different from the usual cold and detached Jayson.
The cold wind outside battered the tree branches, their brittle edges snapping in the gusts, the sound sharp and unsettling. Even the reinforced glass trembled slightly with each gust, making a soft, rhythmic *thud* as if echoing the tension in the air. Sidney felt a knot tighten in her stomach, her nerves fraying as the unease crept through her. She shifted restlessly, unable to find comfort, as though the very stillness around her mirrored her restless thoughts.
The silence seemed to last a lifetime.
Long enough that she thought he wouldn't speak again.
"She was murdered by her enemy," he said, his voice strained and full of barely contained fury, each word coming out like a venomous whisper. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, as if the memory was still fresh, still raw, like a wound that hadn't healed.
"..." Sidney was so shocked that she couldn't speak. She had considered every possibility, but never imagined it would be like this.
He raised his hand and gently tucked her hair behind her ear, his long fingers brushing softly over her pale cheek. "We'll make things work from now on," he said, his voice low, almost tender. "As long as you're good to me."
Sidney's heart raced, unsure whether it was because of his touch or his words.
"Let's sleep. Come here," Jayson said softly in a hushed tone. He patted the spot beside him, signaling Sidney to lie down.
Sidney hesitated for a moment, then climbed over him and nestled beside him. He turned toward her and smiled.
Sidney felt a little scared, afraid that this was just the result of his drunkenness and that the real Jayson would disappear when he woke up.
He placed a kiss on her forehead, then closed his eyes. Sidney kept watching him, observing this unusually different man tonight.
Jayson suddenly spoke in a commanding tone, his voice cold: "Go to sleep."
Sidney was startled and quickly closed her eyes.
Is this what they mean by "Being with him is like walking on eggshells."
