"Honey," Hannah murmured softly, her words melting Oscar's heart. His Adam's apple bobbed visibly. Her head tilted up, giving her a clear view of his throat, the tension in his muscles palpable. Even with her hands covering his eyes, she sensed a fierce intensity.

"Yeah," Oscar replied.

Hannah blushed. She wasn't accustomed to such intimacy; it made her uneasy and shy. She remembered her ten-year marriage to Charles, a union marked by formal address—they'd never used terms of endearment. Yet, she had just called Oscar "honey," a change initiated on their wedding night. Feigning anger to mask her shyness, she asked, "Could you promise me now?"

"Yeah," Oscar replied, hesitant to speak further, fearing he'd betray his thoughts.

Hannah nervously lowered her hands. Seeing his closed eyes brought relief; at least in this, he was dependable. She donned his bathrobe and left. Oscar remained standing, eyes closed, lost in the aftermath of their shared moment. After a while, he slowly opened his eyes, taking in his empty room and the scattered wedding dress. He picked up Hannah's discarded undergarments and went to the bathroom.

Hannah finished her bath, removed her makeup, and applied a face mask. Unlike her previous visit, the room was now fully equipped with everything a woman could need—a thoughtful touch she appreciated. Even as she lay in bed, images from the closet lingered in her mind. She closed her eyes, replaying the day's events. Not only Charles, but everyone would be surprised. She even questioned the reality of her experience—was she dreaming? No. The overwhelming exhaustion and sleepiness confirmed it: this was real. She needed rest.

Awakened by a knock the following day, Hannah was roused from a sound sleep, the remnants of pleasant dreams fading. She stumbled out of bed and opened the door to find Oscar leaning against the frame. "We need to return to the Wells' house today," he said distractedly.

"I don't want to go," Hannah replied, meeting his gaze.

"Unless you want them to know our marriage is a sham," Oscar said nonchalantly.

Hannah vehemently disagreed. The truth, once revealed, would spread like wildfire, potentially jeopardizing her entire plan. Explaining a sham marriage to the Wells family elders would be an ordeal. "Give me half an hour," she said.

She quickly prepared herself. Downstairs, she found Oscar at an outdoor table, enjoying breakfast and reading the newspaper. He rose as she approached, pulling out her chair with a gentlemanly gesture. Hannah glanced at him and offered a quiet, "Thank you."