“I don’t even know if he wants to know,” she whispered. “Maybe he doesn’t care at all. Maybe I’m just overthinking.”
Her voice faltered. “Maybe he already found his—”
Suddenly, the image of the hotel corridor flashed sharply in her mind.
The warm lighting. Magnus walking ahead without looking back. Celia following him down the hallway.
Sophia’s breathing hitched.
“Are he and Celia back together?” she muttered faintly.
Her chest tightened painfully. Her fingers curled into the couch fabric.
“What else would they be doing at a hotel?”
She swallowed hard.
“Should I ask him?” she whispered. “Should I ask him what he was doing there with Celia?”
Her brows pulled together.
“Or am I overreacting…? Overstepping my boundaries?”
She gave a bitter, humorless laugh.
“What boundaries? It’s just a contract marriage.”
Just then—
The faint sound of the main door unlocking echoed through the house.
Her head snapped up.
The soft shuffle of keys. The click of the lock.
She glanced at the door instinctively.
“Magnus?”
Her entire body tensed instantly. Her heart leaped into her throat.
She stood up too fast, nearly stumbling, her mind racing. Her face felt flushed — heated, emotional — and instinctively she looked around as if searching for somewhere to hide.
She wasn’t ready.
She wasn’t ready to confront him like this.
But then her steps halted.
She froze mid-movement. “Why am I getting so worried?” she whispered sharply to herself. “He’s the one who should be worried! He’s the one hiding a secret affair from me!”
But the steady sound of footsteps grew closer.
The door opened fully.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
At the last second, panic overtook pride.
