Chapter 1
When I was eight, a fire broke out. I shielded Mason Butler from a falling roof beam and hurt my head, left me mentally disabled.
He cried and swore to look after me for the rest of his life. When we came of age, he married me as promised.
He would gently trim my nails, and when thunder scared me, he would cover my ears all night.
But he never let me meet his family, nor would he let me have a baby of our own.
"You're still too young to be a mother, Aurora."
When I told my sister Aria, who'd just returned from abroad, she laughed, poked my forehead, and said, "He's treating you like a pet, not like a wife."
I didn't understand, but I didn't want to be a pet. I wanted to be Mason's wife.
I baked his favorite chocolate chip cookies and took them to his apartment.
Through the crack in the door, I saw two overlapping figures.
My sister giggled and wrapped her arms around Mason's neck: "Is it me who makes you feel good, or that little fool who makes you feel good?"
Mason didn't stop, his voice laced with irritation. "She's just a fool. Don't drag her into this dirty business."
The cookies crumbled across the floor; tears fell.
I pulled out my phone and replied to the message from my childhood friend who'd always loved to bully me.
Aurora: Last time you said you'd take me away. Is that still on?
*****
The sound of the cookie tin hitting the floor startled the two people in the room.
Mason suddenly turned around. When he saw clearly that the person outside the door was me, his face instantly turned pale: "Aurora?"
He hurriedly grabbed his clothes and pulled them on, then rushed over to me in a few steps, covered my eyes with one hand, and turned his head to snap angrily: "Aria, why didn't you lock the door!"
My sister unhurriedly wrapped herself in a bath towel and walked barefoot over to me.
She pulled away Mason's hand, deliberately bent down, and brought the ambiguous red marks on her neck right before my eyes.
"What are you angry about?
"Aurora is already married. Sooner or later she has to understand these adult games."
Mason pulled me behind him, his face gloomy.
I poked my head out from behind him. I did not make a scene.
I only picked up the cookie tin and handed it to him. Inside were broken cookies.
"Mason, I can bake cookies now. I can be a useful adult, and I can also give you a baby."
I thought he would praise me like before.
But Mason looked at me, his brows furrowing tightly.
He suddenly raised his hand and slapped the box from my hands.
He yelled, "You're so stupid. Who told you to do these chores? What if something happened? You only know how to cause trouble for others! A good wife doesn't need to do these things."
He stared at the blisters on my fingertips, his eyes brimming with disgust. "Look at yourself. Hurting yourself like this is nothing but disobedience!"
I was stunned.
My mind might be slow, but I still remembered things from the past.
When we were 20 and newly married, he had accidentally scalded his hand cooking beef for me.
Back then, he was sweating profusely from the pain, yet he still smiled and comforted me, "As long as you get better, I can handle any pain."
But now, he wouldn't even look at the cookies I'd made.
I squatted on the ground, picking up the broken cookies.
Tears dripped onto the crumbs. No matter how hard I wiped, they wouldn't stop.
"Stop. They're dirty." Mason grabbed my arm and pulled me up.
He took out a handkerchief and wiped my face gently. "Aria just returned to the country and doesn't have a place to stay. She'll be staying in this apartment for now."
I looked into his eyes and asked, "Mason, do you like Aria more?"
His hand stopped. He went quiet for a long time.
He finally said, "There are many kinds of love. I love her, but I'll still take care of you."
I thought what he said was complicated.
But I got the meaning. He loved Aria.
It suddenly started raining outside the apartment.
Mason called a driver over. "It's raining. You'll get sick if you get caught in the rain. Go home first."
Watching the light drizzle outside, I remembered the many rainy days after I turned eight, when he would always carry me on his back.
When the car started, I pressed my face to the window and looked back.
Mason was leaning down to kiss Aria on the cheek.
My phone buzzed. My childhood friend Nathan Edwards sent me a message.
Nathan: Aurora, do you want to become smart? Tomorrow at 3 p.m., come for an evaluation. Don't tell Mason.
