Chapter 152: There’s Nothing Left For Us To Talk About...

The wardrobe room is bathed in soft golden light, the kind that makes everything look warmer than it really is. I stand before the full-length mirror, adjusting the collar of my shirt after a long shower. The hot water has washed away the sweat and eased the ache in my muscles, leaving me feeling refreshed.

As I smooth the fabric into place, something catches my eye.

I lean closer to the glass, tilting my head just enough to catch the reflection of my neck in the muted glow.

The bite mark is still there.

Too vivid. Too stubborn.

It gleams against my skin like something alive, something that refuses to be forgotten, refuses to be erased. My fingers rise on their own, tracing its edges—the faint impressions where his teeth sank into my skin. The angry purple bruise has long since faded into a stubborn pink.

It’s been days.

Why won’t it fade?

I tug my collar higher, trying to hide the evidence of something I don’t want to remember. The fabric bunches beneath my fingers before falling back into place.

It’s useless.

A voice cuts through the quiet, light and teasing, pulling me from the spiral of my thoughts.

"Are you done yet, my wife?"

I blink and turn.

Sum is standing in the doorway of the wardrobe room, rubbing his eyes like a child waking from a long nap. His hair is a complete mess—tousled, sticking up in every direction—and his eyes are still heavy with sleep, hooded and unfocused. He looks like he just rolled off the couch, and knowing him, he probably did.

"Wife?" I raise an eyebrow, letting the word hang between us. "Are you still dreaming?"

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the chaos, but only succeeds in making it worse.

"I’m completely awake."

I shift my gaze back to the mirror, smoothing the collar of my shirt one last time.

"Then stop spouting nonsense."

"I’m being serious." He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. His voice carries that familiar lazy, teasing edge that always seems to find its way into his words. "I’ve been waiting for almost two hours, and you’re still getting ready." A slow grin spreads across his face. "Isn’t that what wives do?"

A reluctant smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth. I grab my phone from the table, slip it into my pocket, and walk past him.

"Didn’t you tell me to wash up properly? That I reeked of sweat?"

Sum’s face crumples into an exaggerated pout, his lower lip jutting out in mock offense.

"Come on... I was just kidding."

I don’t answer.

I walk out of the room, leaving the warmth of the wardrobe behind. The hallway stretches ahead, dim and quiet, with only the soft echo of my footsteps breaking the silence.

He follows after me, his voice trailing behind like a shadow I can’t quite shake.

"Ellis..." He catches up and falls into step beside me. "Today you’re really making me feel like some husband waiting for his precious wife to finish getting ready."

My smirk widens, unbidden and unwelcome. The words slip out before I can catch them—light, unguarded, almost wistful. A confession I never meant to make.

"Whenever we go out, Silas always makes me wait like this." A faint smile lingers on my lips. "But after seeing his pretty face..." My voice softens without permission. "...it makes the wait worth it."

My steps come to an abrupt stop.

The smile fades. The warmth in my chest drains away, replaced by something cold and painfully familiar.

Silence settles between us.

Sum doesn’t say anything. He simply watches me, his gaze lingering on my face as though he’s piecing together everything I refuse to admit.

Then he speaks, his voice quiet and careful.

"Ellis..."

A pause.

"You’re missing him."

I force my feet to move again.

"I’m not missing him."

My voice comes out colder than I intend, clipped and dismissive.

"If you weren’t missing him, why did you bring him up?" He keeps pace beside me, his steps unhurried. "And the way your whole face lit up when you talked about him..."

"It’s just—"

The words die in my throat. I don’t know how to finish that sentence. I don’t even know what I was trying to say.

Sum blinks, waiting.

"Just what?"

My fists clench at my sides, my nails digging into my palms.

"Sum." I don’t look at him. "Can you stop talking about him?"

He takes a slow, deliberate breath, the kind that tells me he isn’t ready to let this go.

"You’re the one who started it." His voice softens, the teasing gone. "And I know you’re missing him. At least you—"

"Enough."

The word cuts through the air like a blade. Sharp. Final.

"I don’t want to hear another word."

I quicken my pace toward the front door. My footsteps echo against the marble, too fast, too sharp, fueled by the anger tightening in my chest.

Sum hurries after me. "Ellis!" He sighs in exasperation. "At least let me get my coat!"

I don’t answer. I don’t stop.

I push open the front door and step outside.

The night air hits me like a blade—cold, sharp, unforgiving. For a brief moment, the icy sting against my skin is almost a relief, drowning out the turmoil inside me.

Snow has started falling again.

Slow. Restless.

It settles over the ground the sun had only just begun to melt, burying the last traces of warmth beneath another layer of white.

I stride toward the car, my footsteps crunching through the fresh snow. Unlocking the passenger door, I pull it open and slide inside. The door shuts behind me with a soft thud, sealing me inside the quiet darkness of the car.

I lean back against the seat, close my eyes, and rest my head on the cool leather. A deep breath slips from my lips, carrying the weight of everything I’m not saying, everything I’m forcing myself to keep buried.

For a long moment, I don’t move. The silence wraps around me like a second skin. Then, barely above a whisper, a question escapes me.

"So why the hell did I mention him?"

My phone suddenly buzzes in my pocket. Sharp. Insistent. The sound slices through the silence.

I reach for it, the movement slow and reluctant, as though my hand is pushing through water. Opening my eyes, I look at the screen.

An unknown number. A message.

I miss you.

Please... can we talk?

I don’t need to ask who it is. I already know.

It’s him.

I’ve blocked him everywhere. Every account. Every number. Every way he could possibly reach me. Yet somehow...

He always finds another way. This must be the twenty-first unknown number he’s used to reach me. Each one a desperate thread, stretching across the distance I’ve worked so hard to build.

My thumb hovers over the Block button. Before I press it—

Sum’s voice echoes through my mind.

Ellis... at least hear him out before making a decision.

My thumb stills.

Hear him out...

I stare at the screen. The words blur. Then sharpen. Blur again. As if they’re waiting for me to make a choice.

Seconds crawl by.

Heavy. Silent. Endless.

Slowly, I turn off the screen. The light disappears. The phone goes dark. I slip it back into my pocket and close my eyes once more.

There’s nothing left for us to talk about.