The morning air was cold and dry. A mist hung low outside the windowpanes, the world tinted gray and hushed as if even nature feared stirring what had been left unsaid the night before.
Leigh sat curled on the couch, knees hugged to her chest, blanket draped over her like armor. She hadn't slept much. Her mind played back the kiss—chaotic, uninvited, and jarring. The feel of his lips, the way her body froze, the way her heart had betrayed her and skipped anyway.
Across the room, Ervin stood by the window, arms folded, staring out as though the weight of the sky pressed down on him.
He broke the silence first. "It wasn't supposed to happen."
She didn't respond.
"I didn't mean to kiss you," he added, colder this time. "You were too close. It was a mistake."
That word—mistake—pierced deeper than it should've. Leigh swallowed hard and looked away.
"Don't flatter yourself," he went on. "Whatever that was… it meant nothing."
And just like that, her spine straightened. Hurt filled her eyes, but she masked it with silence.
"I don't want confusion between us," he said sharply. "Especially not now."
"Don't worry," she finally replied, her voice calm but brittle. "There's no confusion."
He looked at her then, as if trying to read her expression, but she kept her gaze empty, unreachable. That seemed to irritate him more.
"Good," he muttered, and walked away.
---
Later that morning – Breakfast with their grandfather
The dining table was again set with careful precision. Crystal glasses caught the morning light, silver cutlery gleamed, and a full spread of food—pancakes, eggs, fresh fruits—awaited them.
Leigh walked in first. Her steps were measured, quiet. Ervin followed, his face composed, unreadable.
Their grandfather was already seated at the head of the table, sipping his black coffee. He glanced at them both without smiling.
"You're late," the old man said curtly.
"No one told us we were having a formal breakfast," Ervin said.
"Everything's formal when your marriage is under inspection," he replied flatly.
They sat. The clinking of cutlery filled the awkward silence.
"You sleep well, Leigh?" the old man asked suddenly.
Leigh looked up. "Well enough."
"In the master bedroom, I presume?"
She hesitated just a second too long.
Ervin intervened, voice tight. "Of course."
The old man raised a brow but said nothing. Instead, he sliced into a poached egg slowly, deliberately.
"You don't touch each other," the grandfather said after a moment, eyes still on his plate. "You don't talk much. And I've yet to see a single genuine smile."
Leigh pressed her lips together.
Ervin leaned back. "We're not the overly affectionate type."
"Or perhaps not the married type at all," the grandfather muttered.
A charged silence followed.
Then the old man wiped his mouth and stood. "Two more nights. Impress me, or I'll consider intervention."
As he left the room, Ervin clenched his jaw.
---
That afternoon – In the drawing room
The curtains were half drawn. Dust specks floated in the soft light.
"I need to talk to you," Ervin said, stepping in.
Leigh didn't turn around. She stood by the window, arms folded.
"He's staying two more nights," he said. "You heard him."
She nodded.
"He wants proof. That we're happy. That this marriage is working."
She turned. "So what do you want from me now?"
"I need you to pretend," Ervin said plainly. "Hold my hand in front of him. Sit close at dinner. Smile when he speaks to us."
Leigh stared at him. "Pretend that I'm in love with you?"
"Yes."
She laughed once. It was cold. "You want me to play the wife now? After everything?"
"It's temporary," he said through gritted teeth. "Once he's gone, we go back to being strangers."
Leigh walked past him. "We never stopped."
"You think I enjoy this?" he snapped. "I don't. But I have to play this game, Leigh. For the company. For the inheritance. He holds the strings."
"And what about me?" she said, her voice rising. "What do I get from all this pretending?"
"Freedom," he said. "Eventually."
She scoffed. "No. You want convenience. Control. You want me to make this easy for you."
He stepped closer. "Fine. Maybe I do. Maybe I just need you to stop acting like the victim all the time."
Her eyes darkened. "You think I'm acting?"
He glared at her. "You think I don't see through that fragile, quiet little mask you wear? You're not helpless, Leigh. You just choose silence so no one sees the mess inside."
Leigh's breath caught. His words stung more than he knew.
She backed away. "I won't pretend for you. Not anymore."
Ervin's jaw clenched. But he didn't chase her as she left the room.
---
That night
The house was quiet. Too quiet.
Leigh lay on the couch again, facing the wall, while Ervin sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing.
Outside, the wind picked up. A storm was brewing.
Inside, two people occupied the same space… but lived in different worlds.