I'd made that decision three months ago. Luna's belly had startedto show, and the neighbors' gossip was getting worse. A single woman moving into an apartment pregnant—no matter how you explained it, it would cause trouble.
"Let's pretend to be married," I'd suggested. "It's better for you, for the baby."
Harper had hesitated for a long time.
"Just pretend in public," I'd added. "At home, things stay the same. You take the bedroom, I'll take the guest room. We'll stay out of each other's way."
"Why?" She'd looked up at me, those eyes full of complicated emotions I couldn't read. "Why would you help me this much?"
Why?
I couldn't really explain it myself.
Maybe because reshaping her gave me some strange satisfaction.
Maybe I simply wanted to possess her.
"Because I like doing good deeds," I'd said with a smile. "Besides, having a beautiful fake wife helps me dodge a lot of trouble."
Eventually, she agreed.
We moved into a small apartment in the Bay Area. Not big, but cozy—two bedrooms, a small living room, and a balcony with a sliver of ocean view.
Compared to my luxury downtown apartment, this place was laughably shabby. But somehow, every time I opened that door and smelled Luna's cooking, I felt this strange sense of... belonging.
"You're early today." Luna emerged from the changing room, already out of her work clothes and wearing that light blue dress we'd bought last week.
"Wanted to see you sooner." I took her bag and naturally took her hand. "Come on, I'm cooking tonight."
Her fingers tensed slightly in my palm but didn't pull away.
Progress.
"Julian, you don't have to do this."
"Do what?" I played dumb, opening the car door for her.
Luna didn't answer, just bit her lip and looked out the window.
I knew whatshe meant.
These past few months, I'd been playing the husband role too convincingly—so convincingly I was starting to lose track of what was real.
At first, it was just to cover her identity, to keep the neighbors from getting suspicious. But somewhere along the way, I'd started enjoying this life—coming home to someone waiting, having company while cooking, hearing her soft breathing before sleep.
This mundane, trivial daily routine was something I'd never experienced in my life.
In San Francisco, I had all the power I wanted, lived in an empty mansion, and never lacked for women.
But only Luna was different from all those other women. Gentle and warm—just being near her made me feel calm.
Maybe that's why I was addicted.
"Julian." Her voice was quiet. "Why are you so good to me?"
My hand paused.
Why?
