1 I chased the food truck owner for three full blocks. Finally, I got my hands on the legendary Birria Tacos I’d been dreaming of. In my excitement, I snapped a photo and posted it to my Instagram Story: [Finally caught "The One."] The very next second, my usually stoic, silent husband texted me: [Are you coming home tonight?] The next morning, he made a rare post on his own social media: [I still won.] 2 There’s a food truck on the East Side that makes Birria Tacos so good they should be illegal. I stood in line for an hour. Just as I had my payment app open, a flash of blue lights appeared in the distance—parking enforcement. Before I could react, the truck owner slammed the window shut and peeled out. In the blink of an eye, the bustling street was left with nothing but confused customers and a cloud of exhaust. I stood there, jaw dropped. I looked at the fleeing truck. I gritted my teeth. And I ran. The truck drifted around a corner. I chased after it, lunging forward while yelling, "Hey! Two beef, extra consommé, no onions, extra cilantro! I already sent the money!" After sprinting for ten minutes, I finally saw the truck pull over in a safe alley. Panting like a dog, I walked over. The owner gave me a look that said you need help, but he handed over my tacos. I accepted them with glee. I immediately posted a picture of the steaming food: [Chased "The One" for three blocks. Finally got him.] Just as I finished licking the consommé off my fingers, I received a text from my contract husband—a man who rarely messaged me first. [Where are you?] I paused, finger hovering over the screen. [East Side.] He replied instantly: [Are you coming home tonight?] I stared at the message, surprised. In our three years of marriage, we had maintained a polite, respectful distance. He rarely asked about my schedule, let alone if I was coming home to sleep. After a moment of hesitation, I typed: [Yeah, heading back now.] He sent a simple "Drive safe," and the conversation ended. Ten minutes later. He sent another message out of the blue: [Were you with "The One" just now?] Confused, but honest, I replied: [Yeah.] [Ok.] That was it. No follow-up. I didn't know why he was suddenly reaching out, but I didn't take it to heart. Until I got back to the villa and saw the man sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at his phone in the dark. 3 When I pushed the door open, the living room was pitch black. The only light came from his phone screen, harsh in the darkness. Julian frowned, his finger sliding gently across the screen. I cleared my throat. He snapped his head up, locking his phone screen with the speed of a kid caught stealing cookies. "Why didn't you turn on the lights?" I reached for the switch. He stood up unnaturally. "I forgot." Me: ...? How do you forget to turn on a light? Maybe my look of disbelief was too obvious. He turned his head away, avoiding my gaze. "You..." We spoke at the same time, then stopped. He spoke first. "Xavier is back in the country?" Xavier? Who is that? I looked blank. "Xavier?" I didn't notice Julian staring at me intently, trying to read something in my reaction. I searched my brain for the name. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off. Xavier. My college roommate's boyfriend. "Oh! Him!" I realized. "Yeah, he came back a few days ago." I had seen my roommate's post recently about ending their five-year long-distance relationship. They came back to get married. But how did Julian know him? Confused, but whatever. That night, Julian was fiercer than usual. He pinned me against the headboard, his warm palm gripping my waist. I tried to push him away, whimpering, but he pinned my wrists with one hand. "It hurts," I protested quietly. His response was a harder thrust. His kisses landed on my neck, turning into a bite. I arched my back in pain, tears springing to my eyes. "Julian!" I cried his name, but he sealed my lips. In a daze, I heard him ask: "Am I better, or is he better?" Better than who? What is he talking about? My exhausted brain refused to process. "You..." I begged for mercy. I thought I heard him laugh triumphantly. He seemed satisfied with that answer and finally slowed down, gently kissing away my tears. "Remember what you said," he whispered, biting my earlobe. "You can only ever be mine." I nodded groggily. Before I slipped into darkness, I vaguely heard him sigh. "Wifey... be mine forever, okay?" 4 When I woke up the next day, Julian was gone. I rubbed my sore waist and cursed him under my breath. Checking my phone, it was already 10 AM. There were a few unread messages. The top one was my best friend telling me to check my feed. I opened it and saw that Julian had actually posted something: [I still won.] The photo was of sunlight filtering through curtains, with the corner of a messy bedsheet visible. I stared at it, bewildered. In three years, Julian’s feed had been cleaner than a desert. And today he posts this? Below it, mutual friends were commenting: [Mr. Sterling, is this...?] [???] [Am I seeing things? Is this Julian?] Just as I was about to comment and ask what was going on, my best friend called. "Hello?" "Did you know Elena is back?" she asked, sounding indignant. I froze. Elena. Julian’s "White Moonlight"—the love of his life. 5 My marriage to Julian was an accident. The day my family went bankrupt, my dad knelt on the floor and begged me. "Zooey, only the Sterling family can save us." I clenched my fists. "But Julian loves Elena." Everyone in our circle knew. Julian Sterling, the sole heir, had only one woman in his heart. His college sweetheart, Elena. After Elena went abroad, no one else ever appeared by Julian's side. "It doesn't matter if he doesn't like you," my dad said, eyes red. "As long as we marry, the Lin family survives." I closed my eyes and finally nodded. "Okay." The first time I met Julian was at a dinner arranged by our families. He wore a sharp suit and didn't look at me once. I stirred my coffee, thinking: As expected, he doesn't want to marry me. But to my surprise, when the dinner ended, he handed me a pre-nup. "Let's get married." I was stunned. "You... are willing?" He glanced at me indifferently. "It's just a business alliance. We each get what we need." My chest ached, but I smiled and signed. "Okay." For three years, we treated each other with polite respect. He never interfered in my life, and I never asked about his schedule. What does it feel like to marry someone who doesn't love you? If I had to answer, it’s the bitterness swallowed alone late at night, and the gentleness you can never quite touch. Three years of Julian’s impeccable behavior almost made me forget the transactional nature of our marriage. 6 My best friend was still chattering on the phone. "Elena came back to hold a solo art exhibition. I heard Julian even invested in it..." My fingers tightened around the phone, a sourness rising in my chest. So his strange behavior last night... was it because the love of his life returned? "Zooey? Are you listening?" "Yeah..." I forced a light laugh. "I'm fine. We were just a business arrangement anyway." After hanging up, I stared at Julian’s post. [I still won.] So... who was he competing with? Lost in thought, the bedroom door opened gently. Julian walked in. Seeing me awake, he paused. "Why didn't you sleep a bit longer?" His voice was raspy. "I made congee." I quickly turned off my phone screen and forced a smile. "Thanks." He walked to the bed, his gaze falling on the marks on my neck. His eyes darkened. "Last night..." he started, hesitant. "It's fine." I instinctively pulled up my collar to hide the evidence. "I... I'll go wash up." I scrambled to get up, but my legs went soft, and I nearly fell. Julian caught me instantly, his warm hand steadying my waist. "Careful." I looked up into his deep eyes. For a second, I almost drowned in them. But then the news of Elena’s return flashed through my mind, snapping me back to reality. I looked away and pulled out of his embrace. "Thanks." In the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. My neck was covered in red marks, evidence of last night's madness. Julian rarely lost control like that. Was I just a substitute because she was back? The thought pierced my heart. When I went downstairs, Julian was waiting at the dining table. There was plain congee, side dishes, and my favorite shrimp dumplings. "I don't know if it suits your appetite," he said flatly, pushing the dumplings toward me. I lowered my head and ate. "It's delicious. Thank you." The dining room was terrifyingly quiet. "What are your plans for today?" He broke the silence after a long while. I paused. He never asked about my schedule. That was twice in two days. "Shopping with my best friend." "Okay." He nodded and didn't ask more. Silence again. I thought for a moment and asked out of politeness, "And you?" "Company meeting." He paused. "I might... not be home for dinner." "Okay."
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