Chapter 1

When I received a nagging message from my mom urging me to get married, Matthew Donovan had me pinned against the sink.

He lowered his head to wipe the water from the ends of my hair, his expression gentle.

But the moment he spoke, the warmth shattered, and a chill plunged straight through me.

"As for whatever's going on between us, I need you to keep it to yourself. Harper has a thing about emotional purity. She'd be upset if she found out," he warned.

I stiffened, not knowing what to say.

"What are you thinking about? Don't zone out," Matthew said.

I blurted out, "Ma—"

But I stopped myself just in time. He never let me call him Matthew.

So I changed the subject. "It's nothing. My mom just asked me to tell you to come home for dinner."

After a moment, I asked, "Was it you who suggested the marriage alliance to my mom?"

"Yeah," Matthew replied, gently draping a towel over my shoulders.

But his words made me feel like I was standing naked in a blizzard, even though I was soaking in the hot spring. "It's time for you to go home and settle down."

"You're already 22. It's not right for you to keep staying with me. Besides, if Harper sees this, she'll be upset," he added.

When he mentioned Harper Stafford, his first love, there was a tenderness in his eyes that never seemed to fade.

I pressed my lips together, staying silent.

To outsiders, Matthew always seemed cold, aloof, and impossibly restrained, never cracking a smile. But behind closed doors, he'd take me to bed, making love to me over and over.

I thought we'd already grown so close that maybe we'd always be together.

But today, he said we just weren't right for each other.

Tears threatened to spill over, but all I could do was nod, my voice rough and unsteady. "Yeah, you're right. It's all my fault anyway," I muttered.

I wiped my eyes and stumbled out of the hot spring, not even sure where I was headed.

When I unlocked my phone, all I did was send my mom a message: [Mom, I agree. I'll come home and get married.]

I skipped lunch and wandered alone through the garden.

Donovan Manor wasn't huge, but it carried five years' worth of my memories.

Five years ago, just before my dad passed away, he sent me to live at Donovan Manor.

That was the first time I met Matthew, my dad's friend's younger brother.

Technically, he was my elder, but he was only six years older than me.

To everyone else, Matthew always seemed so aloof and classy, but he'd personally make me soup and help me with those tricky homework questions.

Whenever I got scared by thunder, he'd pull me into his arms, comforting me again and again, gently whispering, "Don't be afraid, Lily. I'm here."

We always kept things respectful and distant, and I just kept my crush on him hidden away in my heart.

But on the night of my coming-of-age ceremony, he mistook me for his first crush and ended up sleeping with me.

I really thought he had feelings for me, too.

But the next morning, he got up and slapped me, his voice trembling with anger. "How could we do this? How am I supposed to face your mom and your late father now?"

That was the first time I'd ever seen him that mad.

Later, I found out he'd spent the whole night in the shower, trying to wash away what had happened.

He said he could no longer face my father and mother, who had entrusted me to him, and that he had to send me back to the Mercer family.

I bit my lip, tears streaming down my face as I begged him, "Please, don't make me go back. If I go back, they will kill me."

His lashes trembled, and he looked at me with a look of tender pity in his eyes.

With a sigh, he finally pulled me into his arms.

After that, I became even more daring, and Matthew started indulging the chaos between us, letting our tangled relationship spiral out of control.

We left memories of our passion throughout Donovan Manor, by the floor-to-ceiling windows, in front of the dressing mirror, and everywhere our bodies entwined.

Sometimes, caught up in the intensity, he'd murmur my name again and again, his voice soft and intimate, just like a lover's whisper.

But in the end, even with his kisses all over me, I could never find my way into his heart.

Sometimes, I'd see him lost in thought, absently touching an old, almost faded photo.

He'd already given his heart to that woman.