Capítulo 6

This game was getting interesting. I lifted the herbal medicine, blew gently, and took a sip—then spat it all out, gagging at the bitterness.

William, who'd returned without my notice, stood at the door removing his shoes. His look of disgust was palpable. "If you can't handle it, stop drinking."

"Since when do you care?" I wiped my mouth, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why are you back again?"

He yanked off his tie, every movement sharp yet elegant.

"It's my home too. Problem?" He sat across from me, expression blank.

"Right." I nodded, forcing another sip. Too bitter—even my black-coffee tolerance couldn't handle this. I spat again, some of the dark liquid splashing his face and shirt.

His face fell, eyes narrowing.

I mumbled an apology, too bitter to speak, and dabbed his face with a tissue—my last act of courtesy.

He swatted my hand away. The loathing in his eyes startled me, reigniting familiar pain.

"Sorry. It's too bitter." I dropped the tissue, voice scoffeedy.

William didn't reply, heading upstairs to change.

Luna entered then, efficiently cleaning the mess. She was more diligent and attentive than the others.

"Auntie Luna, can you make dinner?" I said wearily after she finished.

She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

I pinched my nose and downed the rest of the medicine. My body needed more than just food; it needed proper care.

Afterward, I went to the music room, uncovering my cello. The deep, elegant notes filled the room, drowning my thoughts—until William opened the door.

"Too noisy," he snapped.

I'd stopped playing before because he'd called the cello "annoying." Now, annoyed, I scraped the bow harshly across the strings, producing a cacophony. William's brows furrowed deeply.

"Then divorce me. We can live apart, and I'll play the suona if I want," I said sweetly, setting down the bow.

"We already live apart," he sneered.

"Then why come back? What's here for you?" I was genuinely confused.

Surely not me.

William seemed unaccustomed to my sharp tongue, growing more irritable. Normally, he'd leave and find comfort elsewhere, but he swallowed his anger. "Alice, you seem desperate for me to stay away. Found a new lover?"

Was he spying on me? Checking for infidelity?

I stared. "And if I have? You said as long as I don't post it online."

"Do you DARE cheat on me?!" he snarled.

"Equality, remember? What you can do, I can do."

Our standoff was interrupted by Luna's timid voice: "William, Madam, dinner is ready."

I shoved past William, done with the conversation. Luna's cooking was delicious—I polished off two bowls of noodles, watching William storm out.

"Your cooking is amazing, Auntie Luna. Your family is lucky," I said, finishing the soup.

She blushed. "Just simple home cooking, Madam."

"Nonsense—it's excellent. Doesn't your family praise you?"

"My daughter loves my cooking. She keeps telling me to open a restaurant, but it's not that easy." Mentioning her daughter, her eyes softened.

My smile faded. "Why not? Sometimes luck makes dreams come true."

In my past life, on my deathbed, Mom had told me William was at Emma's parents' restaurant opening—his investment, no less.

"We're just ordinary people, Madam. No luck involved."

"Luck finds everyone, Auntie Luna. What if your daughter marries well?" I wanted to shout that their rise was coming in two weeks, but held back.

She smiled awkwardly, and I left the table.

The Emmas’ families weren't bad people. Initially, they'd opposed Emma dating a married man, but William's "persistence" had won them over—all while I suffered in silence.

After a shower, I lay in bed scrolling and found tabloid photos of William at a bar with Frank and women. As always, the comments attacked me:

His wife must have the patience of a saint!

I'd serve the mistress coffee if he were my husband.

Disgusting. William has no decency.

Paparazzi suck—never get the good stuff.

Sympathy, envy, mockery—I ignored it all. Just as I drifted off, Sasha called, panic in her voice.

"Alice, come quick! Something's happening!"

My heart skipped a beat. "What? Calm down."

"Yulia and William are about to fight! I sent you the address—hurry!" She hung up before I could respond.

Shocked, I threw on clothes and rushed out.

At the bar, William and Yulia had been separated into a private room. One more scene and they'd be trending.

Sasha pulled me to Yulia's side. Yulia glared at William like he was her enemy; he radiated fury, while Frank looked terrified, glancing between us.

"Sorry, sister-in-law —Yulia misunderstood. I hired those girls, not William…" Frank, four years younger than William, had never called me "sister-in-law" before.

"Bullshit! That girl was practically breastfeeding him!" Yulia snapped.

Frank looked like he might cry. William's cold gaze shifted to me, waiting for a reaction.

I ignored him, comforting Yulia. ",you're overreacting. Frank hired them. William doesn't go for… that type."

The room fell silent.

"Alice… are you serious?" Yulia exchanged a look with Sasha, stunned.

They knew about the divorce but couldn't believe my calm. Yulia had confronted William, yet I—who'd loved him for years—was indifferent.

"Dead serious. Come on, let's go drink elsewhere. My treat." I pulled Yulia and Sasha up, ignoring William completely.

"William，they're leaving. sister-in-law she—" Frank began.

"Don't call her that. Does she deserve it?" William's icy voice cut through the door as it closed, piercing my heart.

No, I didn't deserve it. That title belonged to Emma.

We found a table and drank. Sasha had just returned from a gig, and Yulia had spotted William with women, charging in to defend me.

Yulia kept asking, "Alice, are you really over him?"

I nodded. I was sure.

"Damn right! Respect for moving on from a decade of love!" Yulia toasted, downing her drink.

"Legend!" Sasha joined in.

Just as we got tipsy, Sasha's boyfriend called. She was the only one with a stable relationship, already planning marriage.

"Sisters, my man needs me. Gotta go!" she said.

"Ugh, going to feed him?" Yulia coffeesed.

"Pervert!" Sasha laughed, hurrying off.

After she left, I paid and headed home.

At Romance Mansion, I sniffed my alcohol-soaked clothes and headed for the shower. Scoffeem hit me as I entered—then I froze. William emerged from the mist, shirtless, a towel around his waist, every muscle defined.

My first time seeing him like this in five years of marriage.

"This is my bathroom," I said after a beat.

"Problem?" He dried his hair, voice calm.

"None. You're easy on the eyes," I admitted. Even broke, he'd be a heartbreaker.

He studied me, stepping closer. I stepped back.

Scoffeem cleared, revealing every detail of his chest—the faint lines of his collarbone, the smooth skin. I fought the urge to touch.

"Time for my shower. Leave," I said, stepping aside.

instead, he cupped the back of my head, tilting me up. Before I could react, his lips were on mine, minty and insistent.

Shocked, I froze. When I didn't push back, he deepened the kiss, dominating the pace. His body heat overwhelmed me, sweat breaking out as the air grew thick. I meant to shove him away, but he pinned my hands above my head, pressing us together.

Just give in. This was the closure I'd craved in my past life. He'd slept with others; why not his wife?

I closed my eyes, leaning in. Heat pooled low in my stomach, unfamiliar and thrilling.

Then, abruptly, he stopped. The desire in his eyes vanished like a switch had been flipped.