Love and Turmoil in a Marriage of Convenience

When my husband Cade Fowler brought a woman home for the fourth time, I finally exploded. Without any restraint, I slapped the mistress hard across the face.

She was dressed in a deep V-neck patterned dress, her cleavage on full display. Clutching her cheek, she whimpered and turned to Cade, ready to tattle.

Cade, however, pushed her aside impatiently and shot me a look. "Catelyn, we agreed that we wouldn't interfere with each other. So what is this madness?"

Instead of answering him, I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the headache brewing from sheer frustration.

We'd been in a cold war for a month. He accused me of being cold and indifferent, using every opportunity to assert his presence in our crumbling marriage.

Were it not for the monthly deposit of a hundred thousand dollars he made into my account, I would have slapped him and divorced him without hesitation.

......

Cade and I had known each other since we were in diapers. We grew up as close friends, fighting and bickering like siblings.

We'd even gone as far as hitting each other in sensitive areas, never once seeing the other as a potential romantic partner.

As we got older, our families secretly arranged for us to be engaged.

I threw a fit, declaring that even if Cade were the last man on earth, I wouldn't marry him.

But as it turned out, I should've known better than to make such bold statements.

Cade, ever the contrarian, seemed to take my rejection as a challenge.

He swore in front of everyone that he'd marry no one but me.

It wasn't out of love-it was his way of ruining my life. And he enjoyed it, which demonstrated his malicious nature.

My grandfather, a staunch sexist, favored sons over daughters.

My mother, who had married into the Fowler family, was treated like a ghost because she hadn't borne a son.

I refused to let that old man dictate my life with his arrangement.

Before I could find a way to break off the engagement, my mother fell ill, and the family business hit a rough patch.

Cade swooped in like some self-proclaimed savior, bringing a hefty dowry to our doorstep.

"Cade, are you serious? Are you trying to play the knight who saves the princess in distress? Come on." I sneered.

He leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets, smirking. "Catelyn, you will be anything but a princess. If I were you, I would be grateful for this proposal. Marrying someone as outstanding as me will be the most glorious thing to happen in your life."

I hated his arrogance, a trait he shared with my grandfather.

My mother's submissive marriage had always been a shadow over me, and I'd sworn off marriage altogether.

From a certain perspective, marrying Cade felt no different from being a widow. He was not interested in me, after all.

After I slapped his mistress Rose Hopkins, Cade seemed to tone it down for a few days. He stopped barging into the room drunk at midnight, at least.

"I've cut ties with them," he started, hesitating. "Actually, I didn't even..."

I kept knitting, barely glancing up. "Just save it. I don't care."

His face fell, but he quickly changed the subject. "The scarf you are knitting, is it for me?"

"Give me twenty thousand dollars and it will be yours," I said flatly.

My phone chimed with a notification. "Twenty thousand dollars received."

I checked in, unable to suppress a grin.

For all his flaws, Cade had one redeeming quality-he was generous.

He was happy when I spent his money lavishly.

Unlike my father, who'd scold my mother for hours if she shopped for more than ten minutes.

It was truly intolerable.

Cade leaned closer, watching me knit with a smile. "Make it look nice. Embroider my name right here."

I poked his lips with a knitting needle. "That'll cost extra."

Back in school, handmade gifts were all the rage.

I'd learned knitting to impress the president of the student union, practicing until my arms ached.

Cade had mocked me, calling the scarf cheap stuff.

When I asked him to deliver the scarf for me, he only agreed after I promised to do his homework for a week.

That winter, the class president wore a scarf -but it was a designer one from a luxury brand. Cade claimed it was a gift from a girl in the neighboring class.

My scarf, on the other hand, had disappeared without a trace. Cade said the class president was probably too embarrassed to wear it.

Seeing the expectant look in Cade's eyes now, I couldn't help but tease him. "Oh, since when haven't you minded the cheap stuff anymore?"

He laughed, poking my cheek. "Catelyn, why are you so petty? A twenty-thousand-dollar scarf is way more impressive than any designer brand."

I hummed noncommittally, focusing on my knitting.

Lately, Cade had been in a good mood, spending more time at home and hovering around me.

In two years of marriage, we'd shared a bed only a handful of times.

But he wasn't a monk, after all.

When his desire flared and I refused, he wouldn't be gentle, preferring to resort to harsh methods to fulfill his desire.

He would be satisfied, while I was totally drained in bed.

One particularly heated night, I snapped at him. "Can you just deal with it by yourself? There are plenty of items you can buy on eBay. Go find someone else if you're really that desperate!"

His face darkened, and he gripped my chin, his movements growing rougher. "Catelyn, are you sure? Would you be happy if I cheated? If you love being cheated on so much, I'll make sure of it!"

After my harsh words, Cade started bringing different women home every now and then.

Confronted with his provocation, I chose to ignore it, refusing to entertain his childish antics.

My father, however, praised me for being "smart". In his opinion, I was a good wife who knew how to give a man an out.

As a father, he had the audacity to say such things-words so heartless as if he were a feudal lord.

His real concern wasn't my happiness; it was losing the benefit from Cade, who had a great deal of money and knew a large number of people, if we divorced.

Honestly, he was a real master of living off others.

Cade's reputation as a playboy was well-known, and the idea that he'd suddenly change for me after marriage was out of the question.

As long as my allowance wasn't affected, he could do whatever he wanted. I didn't care.

Cade claimed I didn't love him, and maybe he was right.

I didn't care enough to intervene in his affairs, but he, on the other hand, seemed to have an endless supply of schemes to keep tabs on me.

A few days ago, Cisco Gill, our high school's president of the student union, joined the company where I worked. On his first day, my team leader assigned me to show him around.

To thank me, he offered to treat me to dinner after work.

We met at a nearby restaurant, and the atmosphere was awkward.

We hadn't spoken since high school, and any youthful feelings I'd once had for him had long faded.

We chatted about work, and Cisco was as cheerful as ever, talking nonstop.

But suddenly, his expression changed, as if he'd choked on his food.

I followed his gaze and froze.

There stood Cade, wearing a black coat and the pink scarf I'd knitted for him, approaching with a fake, overly friendly smile.

My stomach dropped as I had a bad feeling about this.

Cade sat beside me, his cold fingers brushing my face as he leaned in. "Honey, why didn't you tell me you were going out for dinner? I made you a special meal," he said, his tone sickeningly sweet.

He then glanced at Cisco, feigning ignorance. "And who's this?"

Cisco introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Cisco Gill, Catelyn's high school classmate. We three were in the same class. You might not remember me. You're Cade Fowler, right? Nice to meet you."

Cade placed a thermal lunchbox on the table, adjusting his scarf with a smug look. "Honey, the scarf you knitted for me is so warm and comfortable," he said, drawing attention to the pig's pattern and his name embroidered at the bottom. I cringed internally.

Cisco extended his hand, but before I could shake it, Cade intercepted, gripping both our hands tightly.

"Oh, you have a good memory, Cisco. I'm Catelyn's husband, Cade," he said, his tone dripping with fake politeness.

I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on like a vice.

"Are you freezing? I'm your hearth and home, am I not?" he teased, his voice syrupy.

I rolled my eyes. "Can you just behave yourself? Save your cliché and let go of me. How am I supposed to eat with you holding my hand?"

"I'll feed you, baby." he said, picking up a piece of food and holding it to my lips.

Cisco, clearly uncomfortable, forced a smile. "Wow, you two are so sweet."

Cade didn't miss a beat. "That's for sure. She's very clingy. If she doesn't see me for half a day, she starts to fuss."

I shot him a glare. "Oh really? I don't even know that."

Cisco was speechless at our irony.

The rest of the meal was painfully awkward. By the time we left the restaurant, Cisco and I were both ready to escape.

After some simple words, we said goodbye.

As he disappeared around the corner, the snow began to fall harder.

I turned to Cade, who was glowering at me.

I walked toward his Maybach. "Open the door," I said, but he just stood there, silent. After half a minute, I pulled out my phone to call a cab. "If you're not going to drive me, I'll just get a ride myself."

He finally snapped, opening the door and tossing my phone onto the passenger seat before practically shoving me inside.

"Do you two have a history or something?" I asked, baffled.

Cade turned up the heat and shot me a look. "Catelyn, you seem quite happy having dinner with your crush. Do you know that you were beaming with joy back then in the restaurant?"

"Why does it bother you? Is this the manner of Fowlers? Are you deliberately trying to embarrass me?" I shot back, my anger rising as I remembered his behavior in the restaurant.

I shot back, my anger rising as I remembered his behavior in the restaurant. Cade sneered. "Why does it bother me? You're my wife. Are you blaming me for ruining your good time with another man?"

I crossed my arms, staring him down. "Does having a meal with a colleague hurt your feelings? Well, that's unexpected. Tell me, Cade, are you jealous?"

His expression stiffened, and he looked away awkwardly.

Just as I thought the argument was over, he said something that caught me off guard. "If I say yes, will you try to make things work with me?"

What did he just say? That was a lot to digest. But before I could process his words, a knocking sound came from the car window.

Outside the car window, Rose's face appeared, her expression alluring despite the freezing winter air.

She leaned in, her cleavage on full display, her starry eyes peering inside as if she wanted to climb into the car. "Cade, Cade, is that you? What a coincidence to meet you here! It's me, Rose!" she called out.

Jesus, who cared if you were Rose or Lily. Just get lost!

Cade ignored her completely, but I couldn't resist stirring the pot. "Oh, your sweetheart Rose is calling for you, Cade. Aren't you going to let her in? I'm afraid she will catch a cold outside."

Cade let out a cold snort, his jaw tightening with reluctance.

But the moment Rose and her friend Emma Hudson climbed into the car, I became the outsider.

Their eyes never left Cade, and they chattered nonstop about everything from celebrity gossip to life philosophy.

Cade, ever the charmer, indulged them, answering their questions with ease, and soon the three of them were chatting like old friends.

I sat in the back, my anger simmering. My phone was dead, and I had no way to distract myself.

"Cade, you are so easygoing, unlike the other celebrities," Emma gushed. "No wonder Rose always says she's so happy with you."

Rose blushed, nudging Emma playfully. "Yes, Cade has helped me a lot. If it weren't for him, I might not have made it to the second round of the show."

Cade smiled casually. "You have the talent yourself. I just make a push."

Rose leaned closer, her hand resting on the seat. "I heard Catelyn also participated in the show. How come I didn't see you there?"

Of course, you didn't see me, I thought bitterly. I was eliminated in the first round.

This show was a music competition aimed at forming a new idol group.

I'd always dreamed of being a singer, so I'd impulsively signed up.

My singing wasn't terrible, but it wasn't professional-level either.

Cade had invested in the show because of me.

But when I was eliminated, I'd sat backstage, sobbing, while Cade tried to comfort me.

"It's okay," he'd said, wiping my tears. "It's the taking part that counts. My baby sings the best; they are too stupid to appreciate it."

He'd even set my song as his alarm and ringtone, playing it on loop.

I coldly smiled, "Do you want to see me?"

Rose froze, her smile faltering. "Of course, I do. You are my idol. Seeing you there means I am getting close to my dream."

"I'm not the idol I used to be," I shot back. "Trust me, meeting me won't be pleasant."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked like she was about to cry.

Her tearful face could melt any man's heart.

Emma glared at me. "Catelyn, don't take your anger out on others. Rose was just expressing her respect for you."

I waited to see how Cade would react, but instead of defending her, he asked, "Is your keratitis acting up?"

Rose looked stunned, and Emma quickly jumped in. "No! Her eyes got red because Catelyn scared her."

"Stop it, Emma," Rose said, her voice trembling. "Catelyn must have her reason."

Just as I was about to snap, the car came to a stop.

Cade finally turned around, a mocking smile on his lips. "You two are amusing," he said. "Sitting in my wife's car and criticizing her temper. Who do you think suggested letting you get in the car?"

I was surprised.

Cade rarely defended me at home, often criticizing my temper and stubbornness.

Though his words weren't exactly kind, they were honest.

Emma looked furious but didn't dare say anything.

Rose quickly tried to backtrack. "No, no, you misunderstood. We were just kidding. Please don't take it seriously, Catelyn..."

I pointed at Rose's hand, which was reaching toward me. "Don't touch me!" I snapped.

Cade shot her a look, and she quickly pulled her hand back, nervously twisting her fingers.

"Get out," he said coldly.

Rose and Emma reluctantly climbed out of the car, and I watched in the rearview mirror as they stood in the snow, stomping their feet in frustration.

Their furious expressions were oddly satisfying.

Cade turned to me, his expression serious. "So, Catelyn, what do you think?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Will you try to make things work with me?" he asked slowly.

I took a deep breath, deciding to lay it all out. "When you were rumored with those women and embarrassed me, did you think about making things work? When you were sleeping with Rose, did you think about making things work? Now you're pretending to be a model husband? Isn't it ridiculous?"

Cade's eyes narrowed. "I never slept with them! You are the only woman I have slept with!"