In my previous life, I had little contact with Lucian's secretary, only knowing that he had been with Lucian for a long time.
It was mostly during occasions when Lucian got drunk or was surrounded by women, and the secretary would call me to pick him up.
Then, when I signed the divorce agreement with Lucian, he tasked the secretary with negotiating the division of our assets. The secretary seemed downcast, several times on the verge of speaking but never fully able to express himself.
"Madam, are you really going to divorce the boss? Could you give him another chance?"
By then, I had already lost all hope for Lucian, so I didn't probe too deeply into the meaning behind his words.
But now…
Lucian's mother had been living in the countryside for a long time, so the only one who likely knew about Lucian's past was the secretary.
I tapped my fingers on the desk and, cautiously, asked, "When did Lucian… get diagnosed with depression?"
The secretary's hand froze as he was making coffee.
"Why are you here?"
Lucian's face darkened, his breath ragged. A heavy tension filled the air around him as his gaze swept back and forth between me and the secretary, the chill in his eyes almost palpable.
The secretary wisely fell silent and left.
I approached Lucian and took his hand, smiling softly, "I'm just delivering lunch to my husband." But he recoiled as if shocked by electricity.
"I don't need you to do these things for me."
"You've forgotten," he added, his voice cold, "we're in a business marriage."
His sour expression was absolutely infuriating.
"So, you're not my husband?" I shot back.
Lucian's face flushed slightly, his Adam's apple moving up and down, but he didn't reply.
I rolled my eyes inwardly.
Sometimes, I'm afraid of him not saying anything, and other times, I can't stand his damn mouth.
If it weren't for the way he had died so decisively in my past life, I would never have tried to please him so deliberately now.
In the office, Lucian sat stiffly in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, pretending to focus on the computer screen, his lips pressed into a thin line.
"Aren't you going back?" he asked.
The lunch box was empty, and there were still documents on the desk that hadn't been dealt with, one of which was a contract for an artist. The name of the popular actress, Lin Tang, stood out.
In these short 30 minutes, I tried to start a conversation several times, but Lucian was always the one to shut it down. He wanted to get rid of me.
I rested my chin on my hands and sighed helplessly, "Lucian, since I married you, I genuinely wanted to build a life with you."
"But you always keep me at arm's length, and that makes me uncomfortable. I begin to think you dislike me, or that your heart belongs to someone else."
"Since that's the case, why not just divorce sooner? I won't hold you back, and you won't hold me back either."
I fixed my gaze on Lucian's eyes. His lips turned pale, his grip tightening on the cup in his hand as all color drained from his face. "If this is what you want, I'll have the secretary arrange it…"
The suffocating silence returned.
Just like in my previous life, suffocating.
His avoidance of me, whenever I took the initiative, was unbearable. There was no room for communication.
I grabbed my bag, angry, and stormed out of the building. Only when I breathed in fresh air outside did I realize how impulsive I'd been. How could I have acted like that?
Just after signing the divorce papers, he runs off to commit suicide?
Now I would feel guilty for the rest of my life? Was I destined to be struck by lightning?
Returning to the office building, everything was eerily quiet. The secretary paced anxiously, his eyes lighting up when he saw me. He hurried over, almost like grabbing onto a lifeline, and handed me a medical kit, his voice choking with emotion.
"Miss, please, go inside and check on the boss."
