Chapter 4

Lucas came home at dawn.

I was lying in bed, actually not asleep.

Just staring into the darkness with open eyes.

Until Lucas pulled me into his arms.

“Not asleep yet?”

He leaned down to kiss me but missed.

After a moment’s pause, he suppressed his temper and hugged me, “Who upset you? I’ll go cut them down, okay?”

“Lucas.”

“Mm.”

The room was so dark I couldn’t see his face.

But I could smell the jasmine scent on him.

“Let’s break up.”

Lucas’s movements froze, then he let go and lay down beside me, “What’s wrong now?”

He impatiently pressed his brow, “You’re not a little girl anymore, why are you being so dramatic?”

“What break up,” he laughed, “Aria, you’re not young anymore. Who would marry a wife who smokes, drinks, has tattoos, and is tougher than a man?”

My chest ached.

I pressed hard on my heart, but couldn’t suppress the fine pain.

Last year when my arm was stitched, I was allergic to anesthesia. Twelve stitches, sewn raw, I didn’t make a sound.

But Lucas’s few words of drunken truth made my eyes red.

“Lucas,” I couldn’t help but want to ask him, “If I had a terminal illness, would you…”

“Aria.” He interrupted me, his brow furrowed with impatience, “Stop asking such boring questions.”

“If you really had a terminal illness, I’d accompany you in suicide, okay?”

He pressed his brow, “I’m busy with the wedding and business lately, I don’t have the energy to humor you. Don’t act up.”

As he spoke, his phone suddenly rang.

Lucas irritably hung up.

But the other party called again.

After this back and forth a few times, Lucas got out of bed with the phone, “Speak.”

A girl’s crying came through the receiver, not very clear.

Lucas cursed, “F*cking troublesome.”

Despite calling it trouble, he still hurriedly left.

“There’s a problem with business, I’m going to deal with it.”

“You go to sleep early, don’t wait for me.”