chap

between you and that Lucas guy?"

He glared at me, his eyes boring into mine, desperate for an answer.

"I already told you, we're just buddies."

"Buddies? You call a grown man your 'buddy'? The guy practically wants to glue himself to you! Were you seeing him the wholeMark walked into the house without a word.

I had barely kicked off my shoes when I spotted him on the sofa, arms crossed and face like a thundercloud.

Feigning ignorance, I started unpacking my luggage.

A moment later,

He finally broke the silence.

"What exactly is going on time you were back in Chicago? Have you two been inseparable these past few days?"

His accusations came like rapid-fire artillery, his anger mounting with every word.

He shot up from the sofa, snatched a throw pillow, and hurled it at me.

I sidestepped the projectile, completely ignoring his basically grew up together! How is that any different? Can't you just trust me?"

Mark was completely stumped.

For the next few days, he gave me the cold shoulder at home, refusing to say a single word.

I simply pretended not to notice.

That weekend,

We went rage.

"He's a gentleman, and he's witty," I said calmly. "If we're friends, what does it matter if he's a man or a woman?"

"Of course it matters! You're a married woman! How can you go around calling other men your 'buddies'?"

I shot back, "Oh, really? Aren't you married, too? Yet you still call Sarah and her little clique your 'buddies,' don't you?"

Mark was stunned into silence.

I had never seen such a kaleidoscope of emotions cross his face at once.

Shock, shame, and a flicker of regret.

Finally, after a long pause, he forced the words through gritted teeth.

"That's different! We were college classmates. I know everything about her..."

I cut him off, mimicking his usual tone.

"Lucas and I to my in-laws' for dinner, as was our routine.

At the dinner table, my mother-in-law sensed the thick tension between Mark and me.

"Elena, Mark is under a lot of pressure at work. You shouldn't be so petty all the time."

Then she looked at me with a benevolent smile. "Elena, we spoiled Mark growing up, so he can be a bit of a male chauvinist. Don't take it to heart. You know how it is with married couples—lovers' quarrels are short-lived. Just try to be more understanding."

As if to sue for peace, Mark squeezed my hand tightly under the table.

"Honey..."

He was about to speak when a voice cut in.

"Mark! Why didn't you tell me you were coming over for dinner?"

It was Sarah.

She breezed in and immediately draped her hand over the back of Mark’s chair.

Mark shifted awkwardly in his seat, shooting me a sheepish glance.

Noticing me sitting nearby, Sarah let out a dismissive *tsk*. "Oh, look, Elena's here, too."

No sooner had the words left her mouth than a crowd poured in behind her.

It was Mark's entire harem of "gal pals."

"Mark, you're here! Why didn't you call us to hang out?"

"It's been ages since the whole gang was together."

Mark’s face instantly lit up with anticipation.

He looked at me, his eyes pleading for permission, begging me to nod.

The other women stared at me too,

Their posture suggesting that if I said no, I’d be the buzzkill, the villain of the story.

Even though Mark and I had been married for three years,

I had zero rapport with them.In an instant, the room fell dead silent.

Everyone’s eyes were on me.

The women exchanged glances.

Everyone was waiting for my answer.

They didn’t want *me* there, but they were desperate for Mark to join them.

Well, if that was the case, I They had always treated me with a certain level of exclusion.

Of course, I didn’t fit into their circle either.

With me around, they couldn’t fully let loose.

"Honey, why don't you come out with us?"

Mark asked tentatively, linking his arm affectionately through mine.

’d give them what they wanted.

I dabbed my mouth with a napkin and replied coldly, "Fine."

They fell silent.

The atmosphere was incredibly awkward.

A few minutes later,

Mark ventured, "I'll... be back early, then."

He quickly added:

"Don't worry about picking me up later; they'll drop me off. I promise I won't be late this time."

He made a solemn vow.

I just smiled, looked down, and continued slicing my steak in silence.

Mark stood up and left with them.

Before they were even out the front door, I heard one of them whisper:

"Has Elena had a personality transplant? Did she actually just let Mark off the leash?"