When Elena roused from her slumber, the sun had already climbed high in the sky. It was a Sunday, and she allowed herself the luxury of sitting on her bed, contemplating, refusing to rush into the day.
Her expression held the residue of deep thought, as if she had just emerged from a vivid dream. Yet, Elena knew it wasn't a mere dream. She could still feel Yuchen's presence wrapped around her in the form of his jacket, his scent lingering like a ghost of his touch.
With determination, she pushed aside the covers, reluctantly peeled off Yuchen's jacket, as if shedding layers of emotion she refused to acknowledge. It was a contract marriage, after all. What she felt should have no place in this equation.
Elena decided to immerse herself in the sanctuary of a cold shower. The frigid water cascading over her skin felt like a grounding force, momentarily calming the turbulence inside her.
