The Wife He Lost Too Late

Chapter 2

I agreed to the marriage, only to find myself hopelessly drawn into it.

Even after our wedding, Alexander remained perpetually aloof and composed.

Even our intimacy was handled with cold, methodical precision, with not a trace of heat or desire in his eyes.

Yet I was willing to change for him. After our marriage, I quit my all-night parties, stopped moving to three different cities a year, and even started attending those charity galas I detested most.

My friends joked that I had changed.

I wouldn't admit it aloud, but in my heart I knew it was because I loved Alexander.

I did get my share of sweet gestures.

In our second year of marriage, on my birthday, I was transferring flights in Lindenburg when a blizzard delayed our flight by six hours.

I casually complained in a text that the cake at the airport tasted as bad as cardboard.

By the time I landed in Kingswell in the early hours of the morning, Alexander was surprisingly waiting for me outside the private arrivals lounge.

Despite having a board meeting early the next morning, he had personally driven out to pick me up.

A strawberry cake from one of my favorite dessert shops sat on the passenger seat.

I deliberately asked, "Mr. Grant, aren't you the one who hates waiting the most?"

He tossed the scarf into my lap and replied softly, "It doesn't hurt to wait once in a while."

I secretly laughed to myself the entire ride.

From then on, every time he was cold toward me, I would dig out these small details to comfort myself.

He would remember my birthday, stand up for me when the media humiliated me, and call the family doctor to come over in the middle of the night when I had a fever.

If someone truly didn't care at all, how could they do these things?

I relied on these fragmented kindnesses to excuse all the neglect I endured over five years as his "poor way of expressing himself."

In our fifth year of marriage, I discovered I was pregnant.

When I handed him the report, Alexander gave a slight pause before saying, "Is that so?"

His tone was as calm as if he were confirming a quarterly report.

A moment of hollow emptiness flashed in my chest, but I still smiled and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Alexander, you're going to be a dad."

He looked down at me and finally reached out to stroke my hair.

Once again, I was easily satisfied.

It wasn't until three months later that I met Selena Walker for the first time at a private dining room in Havenport.