"I just noticed a comment from a netizen saying that you wear a wedding ring, and I usually don't pay much attention, so I watched your videos a few more times."
Tristan's hand, in the process of lifting a lid, paused slightly. He calmly explained, "Everyone knows I'm married, and not wearing the ring is much more troublesome."
Cecilia nodded, understanding his point. After all, no matter how hard they tried to create the image of a loving couple, others could still see through their plastic marriage. If Tristan didn't wear the ring and the media focused on that detail, malicious interpretations would abound, and they would probably be flooded with divorce rumors by now.
The two sat facing each other. Tristan handed her the utensils, and when Cecilia took them, her gaze met his hand. The bones were distinct, with long, slender fingers. The diamond ring on her ring finger shimmered under the crystal chandelier.
Cecilia glanced at his hand, then at her own bare fingers. She took a sip of porridge with a spoon and said, "I'm currently working at Natalie's, and no one knows about my identity. You shouldn't mind if I don't wear a wedding ring, right?"
Cecilia was conscious of the need to create an affectionate couple image, but few people outside knew about her identity, so she didn't have to be as cautious as Tristan, who constantly guarded against the media.
Tristan's eyes deepened, as if brewing some emotions. Cecilia didn't hear his voice and looked at him with confusion.
Tristan lowered his eyelashes, concealing the emotions in his eyes, and said casually, "Suit yourself."
"Suit yourself" meant that he didn't mind.
"Then next time when we visit the old house, remind me to wear the ring. I'm afraid I'll forget," she said. It was still necessary to put on a show in front of relatives and friends.
"If you forget, don't wear it."
Cecilia was taken aback by Tristan's response. He lowered his head, pursing his thin lips, and his gaze turned cold. He seemed uninterested in engaging with her.
Cecilia had long been accustomed to his icy way of speaking, but she still felt a pang in her heart. She glanced at his lips, muttered softly with her head lowered, "Now you're angry again."
Just a moment ago, everything was fine. His mood changed so quickly, like turning the pages of a book.
When Tristan heard her mutter quietly, his lips twitched, and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
She held the bowl, drank the porridge in one go, wiped her mouth with a tissue, and didn't look at him. She walked out elegantly.
He could clean up the takeout boxes and such himself.
Who didn't have a temper?
He didn't want to pay her any mind, and she didn't want to be in the same room as him either.
Cecilia walked to the door and heard Tristan say, "I'm not unhappy."
Cecilia paused, realizing that he had heard her complaint and was explaining it to her.
She responded with a casual "Oh," turned around, and smiled brightly at him.
"I didn't misunderstand that you're not unhappy."
"..."
Back in the bedroom, she locked the door from the inside and put the key to the bedroom drawer. After showering, she went to bed wearing noise-canceling earplugs.
When Tristan finished his work and came out of the study, he found that she had locked the bedroom door and the key from the drawer was nowhere to be found. He wasn't angry, so he turned back to the study and took out his spare key.
When Cecilia was alone, she felt a little afraid of the dark. There was a warm yellow lamp on the bedside table. Cecilia lay on her side in bed, her long hair scattered behind her. Her face was slightly flushed, and the blanket had been kicked to his left side. She curled up on the right side of the bed, not forgetting to stay away from the left even in her sleep.
Tristan walked over softly, tidying up the blanket for her. He bent down to pick up the earphones that had fallen on the floor, placed her phone on the bedside table, and then took off his shoes before getting into bed.
His movements were light, but the soft and large bed couldn't bear the weight of another person without making some noise. It inevitably caused Cecilia, who was still in a deep sleep, to shift and press the blanket under her.
Tristan thought she was awake and said in a cold tone, "Cover yourself properly."
The only response he received was a long exhale. Tristan turned his head and saw Cecilia facing him, with half of her face buried in the pillow. She hadn't moved a bit.
She had a delicate face, with a round and plump forehead, a straight and graceful nose, gentle contours, and fair and tender skin. She looked delicate and adorable.
Leaning against the headboard, Tristan couldn't help but gaze at her for a while. His eyes grew heavier, and he leaned closer to her face, fixating on her pink lips, hesitating whether to kiss her or not.
Perhaps it was a woman's intuition sensing danger, but Cecilia, who was still asleep, frowned uneasily and turned over, facing away from him.
Tristan's gaze paused slightly as he looked at her dark head, and he chuckled.
He covered her with the blanket, turned his back to her, closed his eyes, and waited for the fire inside to gradually subside.
The next day, when Cecilia woke up to the sound of her alarm clock, she saw her phone on the bedside table again and knew that Tristan had come in last night.
She had locked the door and brought the spare key inside, so she didn't need to think twice about how he got in. He must have had another spare key hidden somewhere.
As the saying goes, an old fox is always sly.
Cecilia cursed him in her heart for being so scheming, but now that he's not around, she had nowhere to vent her anger.
She threw off the blanket, got out of bed, yawned, and walked towards the bathroom.
The weather was getting colder, and no matter how much she slept, she still felt groggy. Cecilia had to admit that she was a little impressed by Tristan.
After washing her face, she felt much more refreshed. Cecilia sat in front of the mirror and carefully applied her skincare products. A woman's face is her presentation, and even when busy, she couldn't afford to be careless.
After finishing her skincare routine, she picked out an outfit from the wardrobe and returned to apply light makeup before leisurely grabbing her bag and heading out.
The office was less than a fifteen-minute walk away. She didn't want to waste time on commuting, which was why she chose to have their marital home nearby.
Arriving at the office on time, she saw that the seats in the editorial department were already empty. It was a weekly routine to have an early meeting, where Isla Taylor would lead the discussion on the work arrangements for the week.
Cecilia put down her bag and walked directly to the meeting room with her notebook.
Gabriella Wilkins sat in a seat near the door of the meeting room, craning her neck to see outside and occasionally checking her phone. The meeting was scheduled for ten past nine, and Isla was very punctual, not even a minute late. Everyone was already here, except for Cecilia, and Gabriella was worried she might be late.
Cecilia had just stepped into the conference room when she saw Gabriella, who was filled with excitement, stand up and approach her with a cup of coffee in hand. She lowered her voice and said, "Cecilia, you finally made it! I messaged you earlier, but you didn't reply. I thought you might be late."
Cecilia smiled and patted her shoulder. "I almost did, didn't have time to reply."
The sound of high heels clicking on the corridor floor announced the arrival of Isla, dressed in professional attire, carrying a laptop.
Gabriella looked at Cecilia and didn't say much, handing her the coffee. "The editor-in-chief just asked Savannah to tally up everyone's coffee preferences. I ordered you a caramel-infused decaf cappuccino."
Cecilia accepted it, thanked her, and walked towards her seat.
Her seat was directly across from Isabelle Nichols. As Isabelle saw her approaching, she pursed her lips and turned her head in the other direction.
Cecilia was accustomed to her reaction and placed her notebook and coffee on the table before pulling out her chair and sitting down.
Isabelle had joined the company two years before Cecilia, graduating from a prestigious school and showcasing excellent work ability and social skills. She quickly gained a foothold under Natalie and became the most influential person in the editorial department after Isla. The entire company recognized her as Isla's successor.