Chapter 5

On the drive home, Nicholas drove unusually slowly.

Perhaps due to early pregnancy, Serena had been feeling exhausted easily these past few days.

Drowsiness gradually overtook her. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier until she drifted off to sleep.

In her dreams, she felt her body suddenly lifted into the air, enveloped by a familiar scent.

Then she sank into soft cushions as a gentle kiss landed on her cheek.

Light as a dragonfly touching water.

Half-conscious, Serena vaguely heard a voice.

"Little fool."

When she woke, night had already fallen.

A maid stood by the bedside. Seeing her awake, the woman hurried forward with evident relief.

"Mrs. Hayes, you're awake. Your medicine is ready."

Medicine?

Serena looked toward the dark, murky bowl on the nightstand, fragments of memory surfacing in her mind.

"Have you been here the whole time taking care of me?"

The maid nodded, puzzled by the question.

At those words, the hope in Serena's eyes faded.

So it had only been a dream after all.

"Mrs. Hayes, you should drink it while it's hot." The maid picked up the bowl with a reminder.

A pungent, acrid medicinal smell hit her. Serena turned her face away instinctively.

"Just leave it there. I'll drink it later."

"But..."

"I'm hungry. Have someone bring up some food for me." Serena cut her off.

"Alright, Mrs. Hayes. Please remember to take your medicine." The maid didn't think much of it and left the room.

Once the maid was gone, Serena finally relaxed.

The medicine was prescribed by the doctor to stabilize the pregnancy—only she knew about it.

A pregnancy couldn't be hidden forever, but she still didn't know what to do with this child. She felt utterly lost.

Keep it? The baby would be born without a father.

Terminate it? But it was an innocent life.

Neither option seemed right.

Her mind was already a tangled mess.

Serena simply got out of bed, deciding to go downstairs for a walk.

As she reached the first-floor kitchen, she found several maids huddled together, whispering.

"Did you all see her? That Ms. Wilson Mr. Hayes brought home today?"

"What about her? Who is she?"

The maids who'd worked longer at the Hayes estate recognized Clara. After all, she and Nicholas were childhood friends who'd grown up together.

"Clara—Mr. Hayes's first love. You really don't know?"

"First love?" The younger maid's eyes widened in shock. "Then what does that make Mrs. Hayes?"

"Elite marriages are all business arrangements. When have you ever seen real feelings involved? It's all just for show!"

"You don't understand. I've seen it myself—if Ms. Wilson hadn't gone abroad back then, Mr. Hayes would've married her ages ago."

"Then why on earth did Mr. Hayes marry Mrs. Hayes?"

Serena listened to the entire conversation, sorrow wrapping around her.

So it had always been true—those involved are blind, while observers see clearly.

The marriage she'd struggled so hard to maintain was nothing but a joke to outsiders. She was merely playing a role.

She couldn't bear to hear more and turned to go back upstairs.

But the gossip continued, the group growing more animated.

"Obviously because Mrs. Wendy got sick and wanted to see Mr. Hayes settled down. So he just found someone random to fill the spot."

The speaker raised an eyebrow knowingly. "This is top secret though—don't spread it around."

Elite family gossip was always the juiciest topic. The group wanted to continue, but a cold voice cut them off.

"Don't any of you have work to do?"

Everyone scattered immediately.

Nicholas stood in the doorway, his expression dark. No one knew when he'd arrived.

He glanced toward the stairs, an odd sense of relief washing over him—at least only he had overheard.

By dinner, Serena had already napped. With a guest present, the meal was slightly more elaborate than usual.

Serena took her seat. The table was laden with many of her favorite dishes.

But her appetite was poor, her interest nonexistent.

As she slowly picked at her food, Clara suddenly placed something in her bowl.

Serena looked up to meet Clara's smiling face.

"This fish is Samuel's specialty—her signature dish. Eat more, it's good for you."

"Thank you."

Serena felt awkward. This was supposedly her own home, yet she felt like a guest.

She poked at the fish with her utensils, never bringing it to her mouth.

It wasn't intentional—she simply had a special constitution. She'd been allergic to fish since childhood.

As she debated where to hide the fish, Nicholas, who'd been silent until now, suddenly sneered.

"How pretentious."

The next second, Nicholas picked up his utensils and took the fish directly from her bowl.

Pretentious?

Serena froze, then laughed bitterly to herself.

Was this how Nicholas saw her? Utterly worthless?

An allergy had become pretension?

Without thinking, Serena grabbed her utensils in defiance and piled half the fish from the serving plate onto Nicholas's dish, the words escaping before she could stop them.

"You should eat more. Build up your strength."

Nicholas stared.

Serena fell silent too.

The atmosphere turned deathly quiet.

Regret came belatedly.

What on earth was she saying? Telling Nicholas to build up his strength?

She knew perfectly well what his stamina was like—he could always exhaust her until she couldn't get out of bed.

"I..." Serena's face flushed with embarrassment. She wanted to take it back, but Clara suddenly spoke.

"It's so much nicer with more people at home." Clara's tone was envious. She suddenly turned to Nicholas. "Nicholas, I just got back to the country and my place is terribly empty. I was wondering if I could temporarily stay here? It was like this when we were kids too—I've always felt more at home here than at my own house."

Serena remained impassive, silently speeding up her eating.

She didn't want to sit here a moment longer.

Just as she was nearly finished and about to escape, Nicholas suddenly spoke. "That requires Serena's approval. She's the lady of this house."

The words struck like thunder. Serena nearly spat out the food she'd just swallowed.

Lady of the house? This was the first time she'd heard that title.

Especially coming from Nicholas's mouth.

What did it mean?

Clara also froze for a second, but maintained her smile as she turned to confirm.

"Is that alright, Serena?"

"Of course." Serena nodded. "Samuel, please prepare a room for Ms. Wilson."

She didn't understand why Nicholas would suddenly emphasize her status. Was it to give Clara legitimate grounds to move in?

That made sense. On the surface, she was still Nicholas's wife.

In front of so many servants, appearances had to be maintained.

Fortunately, this charade wouldn't last much longer.

Once Grandma recovered, they'd divorce.

Then they wouldn't need to pretend anymore.

Lost in thought, Serena didn't notice Nicholas's gaze.

For some reason, hearing Serena's response just now had stirred an inexplicably complicated feeling within him.

Nicholas suppressed the strange emotion, his expression turning cold.

No matter what, his marriage to Serena was ending.

Samuel led Clara toward the guest room. Before leaving, Clara suddenly asked Serena.

"I didn't bring any toiletries. Would it be alright if I used yours?"