Chapter 2
I kept track of even the tiniest frown Brennen made.
All those thick pages were packed with a woman's relentless, one-way journey toward a woman.
Thinking about it now, I couldn't help but laugh at myself.
These three years of groveling without a shred of dignity were utterly laughable.
Three years ago, I hauled my suitcase into this mansion, feeling utterly out of place.
Brennen stood in front of the towering floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room.
His cold, rigid silhouette exuded a suffocating sense of intimidation.
Brennen said, "We're just getting what we need from each other. Don't fool yourself into thinking you belong somewhere you don't."
Brennen tossed the secret marriage contract onto the coffee table.
The pages slid across the tabletop, their movement especially clear in the empty living room.
I signed it quietly and carefully hid away all my hopes.
I stepped back to a safe distance, watching him from there.
Until that night, a lively mechanical voice rang out in my mind.
[The Marriage Rescue System is now bound.]
[Cheer up, Host, the System confirms your marriage is officially valid.]
[That means, deep down, he's got a spot for you in his heart, even if he doesn't realize it. There's something real between you two.]
[If you try hard enough, you can melt even the coldest heart.]
I jumped at the sudden voice.
Right after, a hidden thrill bubbled up inside me.
I really fell for the System's lies.
I treated it like the fast track to Brennen's heart.
The first time I dared to overstep my boundaries was on a snowy winter night.
Brennen came home in the early hours, bringing the winter chill in with him.
He didn't even bother to take off his coat, just sank into the couch.
His tie was loosened and askew.
His brows were furrowed in a deep frown.
The strong smell of alcohol mixed with the chilly air, filling the living room.
I carried a bowl of warm soup, fresh from the stove and lingered in the kitchen doorway for a long while.
My fingers clenched tightly around the edge of my apron.
My heart was racing, thudding against my chest.
Taking a deep breath, I mustered up the courage and stepped forward.
"Have some soup. It'll help your stomach feel better," I offered, my voice barely above a whisper.
Honestly, even I felt pathetic, trying so desperately to win him over.
But for once, he didn't brush me off like he always did.
He just slumped back against the couch, looking worn out, his eyes half-shut.
His usual guard melted away for a moment, thanks to the alcohol.
I dropped to one knee on the carpet.
With a warm towel, I gently dabbed the cold sweat from his forehead.
"Brennen," I whispered.
In the darkness, I watched him, my heart pounding in my chest.
After keeping it bottled up for so long, I finally blurted it out.
"I don't want to be just a name on a contract," I whispered. "I want to be your wife for real."
After I said those words, my eyes burned with emotion and my breath caught in my throat.
The towel slid down his chiseled jawline.
He opened his eyes and caught my wrist as my hand lingered by his cheek.
His touch was almost scorching, the heat startling.
Even with just that thin shirt between us, I could feel it.
My hand lay against his chest, feeling every rise and fall of his breath.
The space between us was almost nonexistent.
I could read every emotion in his eyes.
He didn't push me away.
When my fingers trembled, his hold on me grew even firmer.
His skin brushed against mine.
A searing warmth coursed through my veins.
"Vivian," he spoke my name in a low voice.
His voice, husky with alcohol, carried a softness I'd never heard before.
He leaned in, closing the distance between us.
He let his weight rest gently against me.
His warm breath swept over the hollow of my neck.
On that silent winter night, the world felt frozen around us.
He allowed himself to be vulnerable.
In that moment, my whole body felt like it was on fire.
I thought this was his signal that he was finally ready to accept me.
I thought I'd finally become the safe haven he could call home.
But I never realized that, deep down, his heart was never reaching for me—not even subconsciously.
I was just someone who slipped in by chance, a bargain-bin stand-in for someone else.
That fleeting delusion kept me all alone in this mansion for three whole years.
Three years went by.
He didn't give me a wedding or a ring.
Not once did anyone call me Mrs. Caldwell in public.
I used to crave that status so badly.
I tried countless times, hoping to reach for his hand in public, just once.
But all I ever got was him dodging away, and an icy, emotionless, "Don't cross the line."
Brennen said marriage was nothing but a contract.
I used to think he was just born with a heart of ice.
I always thought that if I just kept my head down and stayed obedient, he'd eventually soften up—even just a little.
But the System's mechanical voice chimed in again, blowing my wishful thinking right out of the water. [Major system bug detected.]
[The original Host was supposed to be Cheyanne. A binding error has been detected.]
[Mission terminated. Revoking access now.]
The living room felt hollow and deserted.
I stared at the diary with its broken lock lying on the coffee table.
My fingers let go of the gold-embossed letters on the cover.
Turned out, there was never any secret fondness for me.
I was just playing the wrong part, starring in a one-woman show meant for someone else.
I pulled out my phone and opened Brennen's conversation.