The condo sits in silence.

Not the peaceful kind. The waiting kind. The kind that holds its breath before something breaks.

I sink into the couch. My body heavy, my bones tired in ways sleep can’t fix. I lean back—not sitting, not lounging, just... existing. My hands rest along the back of the couch, fingers loose, careless, like I’ve forgotten I have them. The leather is cool beneath my palms. Soft, comfortable.

The lights are dim. Almost dark. Shadowed corners. Hidden edges. Places where secrets feel safe.

Outside, the city sprawls beneath the floor-to-ceiling windows—a kingdom of glass and steel. Scattered lights flicker like fallen stars. Cars move along distant streets, tiny and silent, carrying people who have somewhere to go. Someone to come home to.

I stare at the ceiling.

The gold lights.

Only gold.

Same as—

No.

I close my eyes. But the color stays. Burned into the back of my lids.

Gold. Warm. Bright.

Same as his eyes.

Staring at me—across the wedding dais, across the breakfast table, across the small space of my bedroom while I pressed him against the wall and threatened him like he was my enemy.

Something shone in his eyes. Something I couldn’t name. Something I refused to name.

The door unlocks.

A click—sharp in the silence. Then the turn of the knob. The soft push inward.

Sum enters.

He doesn’t see me at first.

He drapes his coat over the back of a chair, movements slow, automatic. His fingers find his tie, loosen the knot, pull it free from his collar.

He exhales—a long, tired breath. Then he flips the light switch. The room floods with brightness. Harsh. White. Unforgiving.

My eyes narrow against the assault. The shadows retreat to the corners, hiding where they can.

Sum’s gaze finds me.

He freezes.

Just for a moment. His body goes still—hand still on the switch, tie still dangling from his fingers. His eyes widen, just a fraction.

"Ellis—"

I don’t look at him. My eyes stay closed. The light burns through my lids anyway.

He walks toward me. His footsteps soft on the floor. Careful. Like he’s approaching something wounded.

"When did you come?"

I open my eyes slowly. Let them adjust to the brightness I didn’t ask for.

My voice comes out flat. Empty. The voice of a man who’s run out of words. "Where were you?"

Sum pours himself a glass of water. The pitcher clinks softly against the crystal.

He drinks—slow, measured—like he’s trying to settle something I can’t see.

"Family dinner."

He turns to the glass wall, staring out at the city glowing beneath us. The lights blur in the dark like scattered embers. "You know my father. Family first. In everything."

He turns back to me. A tired smile flickers across his lips—there, then gone.

"Same as always." A pause. "Boring."

He sets the glass down on the table. The sound echoes softly in the quiet. He drops onto the couch beside me—not too close, not too far. Close enough to reach. Far enough to pretend he isn’t worried.

"What about you?"

The teasing slips into his voice. Familiar. Easy.

"Why are you sitting here like a corpse in my condo?" He tilts his head, studying me. "You really scared me."

His smile widens.

"Shouldn’t you be on your honeymoon?" A pause. "And you’re here—leaving your beautiful bride alone?"

I glare at him. My eyes burn—already on edge, already frayed, one word away from snapping. "Don’t get on my nerves."

Sum pats my shoulder. Light. Brief.

"Fine. I won’t."

He leans back into the couch. His arm stretches along the back of it—close to my shoulders, but not touching. His body sinks into the cushions like he’s been carrying the weight of the world and finally gets to set it down.

He glances at me from the corner of his eye.

"Now tell me what happened." His voice is softer now. The teasing gone. "Why are you so angry? Did something happen?"

My gaze shifts to the glass wall.

The city glows outside. Lights scattered like stars that fell and forgot how to get home. Somewhere out there, people are living lives that make sense. Somewhere out there, someone is happy.

"I told him."

"Told who? Told him what?"

"Silas." My voice doesn’t change. Flat. Empty. "I told him I don’t like him. That this marriage was forced."

Sum moves quickly—sitting up, turning toward me, his eyes widening with something between shock and hunger.

"What?" A pause. The air between us tightens. "Then... what was his reaction?"

My fists clench in my lap. My jaw tightens until my teeth ache.

This.

This is what irritates me the most.

"Nothing."

Sum’s expression twists, confusion pulling at his features.

"What do you mean, nothing?"

"Nothing." The word comes out sharper than I intend—a blade disguised as a breath. "No anger. No reaction. Just... a calm stare."

I pause. The memory rises—his brown eyes, unblinking, unafraid. "Like he doesn’t care about anything."

My gaze drifts back to the ceiling. The gold lights.

"That’s what’s annoying."

Sum is quiet for a moment. Thinking. Turning the words over in his mind like something he can’t quite place.

"That’s... weird." He tilts his head, studying me. "Maybe he already knows you don’t like him. But he still married you."

A small pause. Then a slow smile spreads across his lips—curious, almost dangerous.

"Maybe he’s in love with you."

I look at him.

"Sum."

He raises his hands, palms out in surrender.

"I’m not teasing." His voice drops—softer now, more serious. "Ellis, think about it."

He leans closer. The space between us shrinks.

"He didn’t show any anger. Didn’t react. Just... calm." A pause. "That probably means he loves you."

I sigh. The sound comes from somewhere deep. Somewhere tired.

"It’s not new for me."

Sum leans in further. His expression shifts—curious now, intent, the way he gets when he’s close to figuring something out.

"Ellis." His voice drops to almost a whisper. "You should know what’s going on in his mind."

A pause.

"Did you read his thoughts?"

I go still.

My gaze drops. To my hands. To the ring on my finger—cold, heavy, unfamiliar.

Reading minds.

Yes. I can. It’s easy. Like breathing. Like blinking. I slip into people’s heads without thinking, without asking, without caring.

But Silas—

Whenever his eyes lock with mine—

I hear nothing.

No noise. No chatter. No secrets spilling unbidden into my skull. No whispered fears. No silent screams.

Just...

Silence.

The kind that swallows you whole.

"Ellis?"

I blink. Look at him.

Sum’s eyes search my face.

"Did you do it?" His voice is careful now. Gentle. Like he’s asking about a wound. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

I don’t answer.

I stand. The movement sudden—like my body decided before my mind caught up. I grab my coat from the couch. The fabric is still warm. Sum stands too. His hand lifts—then stops, just short of touching me.

"Ellis. Where are you going?"

I don’t answer. I walk toward the door. Each step heavier than the last.

How is that possible? I never noticed before. Why can’t I hear him?

Why is there only silence?