Chapter 1
It was the dead of winter in Akands.
Mona Annable was a resident physician who was constantly rushing between the wards and the operating rooms.
But with a few words from their elders about "looking out for each other," she found herself bound to a loveless, contractual marriage.
Her husband, Damon Annable, was a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon at the hospital, known for his icy demeanor and exceptional skills.
They lived under the same roof, but to each other, they were nothing more than strangers.
Everyone thought that a relationship built on a contract would end in nothing but icy distance.
But what nobody realized was that the cold-hearted Damon kept a little note in his pocket, filled with Mona's favorite things.
In the lively Mona's diary, she quietly wrote down the moments when she saw Damon coming home late at night.
Spring hadn't even arrived yet, but feelings were already starting to flutter.
In December, the cold wind swept through Akands, rattling dead leaves against the apartment's floor-to-ceiling windows with a faint rustle.
Mona dragged herself home, exhausted. By the door, a pair of black leather shoes that didn't belong to her were neatly lined up, still speckled with melting snow.
It was the third week of her secret marriage to Damon.
A week ago, her grandma had taken her hand, her voice earnest. "Mona, Damon's had a tough life. His parents passed away when he was young, and he's always been so cold.
"You're lively, and I think you two could look out for each other. I know this isn't fair to you, but I can't help but worry about him."
Almost at the same time, Damon's grandpa had pulled him aside, his tone gentle but serious. "Damon, Mona's a good girl.
"Being a resident is tough. You should look out for her. Give it a try. If it really doesn't work out, I won't force you."
So, two people, both lonely and cared for by their elders, went to the City Hall with their IDs and got married.
There was no proposal, no wedding, not even a proper promise.
A handwritten contract that laid out the terms. They would have a year of secret marriage without meddling in each other's private lives.
They would pretend to be a loving couple in public and have a peaceful divorce when the time was up.
Mona changed into her slippers and tiptoed into the living room, not wanting to disturb Damon, who might already be resting.
A small lamp cast a warm, gentle glow in the living room, lighting up the tall figure sitting on the sofa.
Damon was in comfy home clothes, his sleeves rolled up to show off his lean forearms.
He was so focused on a cardiothoracic surgery book that he didn't even notice Mona coming in.
His eyes were deep, his nose sharp, and his lips always pressed into a straight line. He had a chilly vibe that made people keep their distance.
Mona paused for a few seconds, a bit spaced out, before remembering it was only their third week living together.
They'd barely seen each other. She could count the times on one hand. Damon was the star surgeon in cardiothoracic, always jumping from one operation to the next.
He would usually come home late or sleep at the hospital.
As a resident physician, Mona was always taking shifts with her supervising doctor, heading out early and coming back late. Their paths hardly ever crossed.
"Welcome back." Damon finally looked up, his gaze briefly meeting hers. His tone was flat, as if he were greeting a stranger.
"Yeah, you haven't gone to bed yet?" Mona tried to keep her voice light, forcing a small smile even though she felt awkward inside.
He was her husband in name, but he felt even more distant than her colleagues at the hospital.
Damon replied, closing his book and standing up, "Just reading. There's warm milk in the kitchen. Help yourself. I'll turn in first. I have an early surgery tomorrow."
With that, he picked up his jacket from the sofa, turned, and walked into the master bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him and leaving them in their separate spaces.
Mona stared at the closed master bedroom door, let out a quiet sigh, and made her way to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of warm milk.
The heat soothed her throat, bringing a touch of comfort, but it did nothing to ease the loneliness that lingered deep inside.
She knew she couldn't expect much from this marriage built on a contract.
Damon lived in his own world, distant and absorbed, while her days were busy and full of little tasks.
They were like two parallel lines, occasionally intersecting, but always moving forward on their own separate tracks.
After finishing her milk, Mona washed the glass and slipped into her own room. She'd kept the space simple, but it still carried a hint of her lively personality.
Pulling out her phone, she checked her chat with her grandma. Her grandma had asked how things were with Damon.
Mona replied: [We're doing fine. He's taking good care of me.] She added a smiley emoji at the end.
Putting her phone down, Mona lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. The cold wind was still howling outside.
She remembered how, earlier at the hospital, she'd seen Damon in his surgical gown, standing at the operating table, completely absorbed. His moves were sharp and confident.
He looked like he was surrounded by light, so brilliant that she couldn't take her eyes off him.