Today she went out.

In the living room, there were newly arranged flowers, small and unknown ones that she could match elegantly and exceptionally.

Perhaps she was tired from shopping, otherwise after dinner, they would usually sit together on the sofa watching DVDs, original old foreign films that were her favorite, from "Camille" to "Gone with the Wind" from "Waterloo Bridge" to "Jane Eyre".

Though these films were lengthy, he still watched them with interest, and when she sometimes had tears in her eyes, he almost had the urge to kiss her.

A sudden wave of heat prompted him to stretch his muscles.

She would sometimes sleep early until dawn, but not cooking him dinner was a first. After thinking for a moment, he gently closed the door and turned away.

In the bedroom, she, with reddened eyes, sat up slowly, hearing the door open, dialed a phone number: "Drake, please follow that car, the license plate is XXXXX, and do not tell my father."

He’s been her bodyguard since she was young, and apart from her father, he’s the most trustworthy person.

In the middle of the night, she heard the door open again, closed her eyes gently and despairingly.

Just a few days into their marriage?

She felt as if she was living in a beautiful bubble, one that could be pierced with a single strand of hair.

She still remembered clearly the call from Drake half an hour ago: "Miss, Alexander King’s car entered the twelfth lot at Eternal Manor. I checked, it’s also under his name, and a woman named Jade Willow has lived there for several years."

"Drake, Dad has a weak heart, if you’re truly loyal, do not say a word to him, understand?"

She only said that one thing, knowing what was necessary to make Drake listen.

Sitting at the bedside, she realized she was the most ridiculous woman in the world.

In the darkness, she recalled a line from Theodore Taggart: "the world has kissed my soul with its pain, asking for its return in songs."

She loved him so much, yet he only gave her painful kisses.

Life is a one-way ticket with no return, no rehearsal, every act is live.

If possible, she never wanted to see him again, for once something pure is tainted, it remains tainted. Her world was black and white, clear and distinct.

But she always thought of her father, the only man in the world who loved her unconditionally, and how happy he seemed every time she brought him home.

She felt her father was even a bit careful in hosting Alexander King.

So, in return, she had to maintain this ridiculous marriage for the time being.

Thankfully, she was still clean; she wouldn’t ponder why this man married her, maybe it really was for business interests as rumored, overthinking only added trouble.

Some things, no matter how much you love them, have to be let go, and some things, no matter how bitter, have to be swallowed.

In fact, Nora Thompson seemed very simple and pure, but the simpler one often had inexplicably strong inner strength.

In the morning, she got up, changed clothes, and left the room, Alexander King noticed something different in the air.

She hadn’t even made breakfast, leaving a note saying she’d gone to Nepal on a trip.

She wasn’t like Jade Willow, who loved going to Paris, France, or vacationing on the most beautiful foreign islands, entwined with him beneath the blue skies and white clouds.

He wasn’t a stingy patron, but her monthly bills were quite substantial.

Alexander King would sometimes look at their expenses out of boredom; she didn’t care for luxury clothes or diamond jewelry, Nora Thompson preferred buying books and various original film DVDs, although not cheap, her spending was minute compared to Jade Willow’s.

He remembered after their wedding giving her a card, and she smiled awkwardly: "I have my own."

He was, of course, aware that with Isaac Thompson’s personality, he’d never let his daughter be short on money.

But he still handed it to her: "Nora Thompson, you’re my wife, this is my responsibility as your husband, please don’t refuse it, I know you have a lot of money, but from now on, you must use this card."

When he held her fair little hand, she blushingly agreed.

They were indeed completely different, and lately he found himself thinking of her more often.

Even yesterday when Jade Willow was sitting on him, gyrating until reaching her peak with screams, he was distracted thinking, "What if it was her?"

He hadn’t finished when he pushed her away, lit a cigarette, and sat on the chair. The woman, falling to the floor, crawled toward him, somewhat surprised, yet he left without hesitation.