Chapter 5

Nina stopped in her tracks, her demeanor devoid of the harmony that would typically exist between them as spouses, instead exuding an air of detachment more akin to that of superior and subordinate: "Mr. York, do you have any further instructions?"

Nash turned his head, gazing at Nina's somewhat distant expression, his tone carrying a commanding undertone. "Sit down."

Nina suddenly couldn't fathom what he intended to do next.

Nash approached.

As he drew nearer, Nina watched, sensing a difference in the air, making it feel thin, tense, and peculiar.

She remained still, but Nash took the initiative to grasp her hand.

The warmth of his palm against hers felt like a burn, and she instinctively tried to pull away. However, Nash held her firmly, not giving her the chance to withdraw, pulling her aside instead, his brows furrowed as he asked, "You've injured your hand. Didn't you notice?"

His concern caught Nina off guard. "I... I'm fine," she stammered.

"Your hand has blistered," Nash remarked. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She lowered her gaze to their clasped hands, which were now being examined by him. Over the many years they had known each other, there had been countless times when she wanted to hold his hand, seeking warmth and guidance. But she never had the chance. Just when she was ready to give up, he would offer her a trace of warmth again.

"It's just a minor issue. I think it'll be fine in a couple of days," Nina replied.

"I'll have someone bring over some burn ointment," Nash stated.

Nina felt her eyes welling up with tears. After holding on for so many years, it seemed like there was finally a bit of reciprocation. Yet, she remained soberly aware—he didn't love her.

Nash took the burn ointment and applied it to her wound. Watching him crouch in front of her, being so careful, made her feel like she might become the woman he cherished.

It seemed like even a small injury would make him look at her a little longer. She even had the ridiculous thought that being by his side for seven years, diligently taking care of him every day, was not as effective as getting a minor injury to attract his attention. This little injury was worth it.

A tear rolled down her cheek, landing perfectly on the back of Nash's hand. He raised his gaze, noticing Nina's moist eyes. It was the first time he had seen her show emotion in front of him.

"Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?"

Nina felt her emotions fluctuating too much, feeling unlike herself. "It's not painful, it's just my eyes are uncomfortable. Mr. York, I won't let this happen again."

Having heard her polite words countless times, Nash was a bit tired of it. He frowned. "At home, it's not like we're at the office. You don't have to be fully armored in front of me every day. At home, you can call me by my name."

But for the past seven years, Nina had lived like this. At the office, she was a qualified secretary. At home, she had the title of Mrs. York, but she still did the things a secretary should do.

Nina looked at his face, the one she had admired for so many years. The feeling of not getting a response from the person she loved for so long would eventually become exhausting. She paused and finally spoke up, "Nash, when should we go and process the divorce…"

But Nash pulled her into his arms, causing Nina to stiffen, her head against his shoulder, unable to say anything.

Nash furrowed his brows. "I'm tired today. Let's talk about it tomorrow."

Nina had no choice but to drop the subject.

Lying in bed, Nina felt that he was behaving somewhat differently. His body was pressed tightly against hers, making her feel his warm temperature. His hand wrapped around her waist, enveloping her in the comforting scent of pine, giving her a sense of security.

His large palm pressed against her abdomen, causing her body to slightly recoil, and his warm breath whispered in her ear, "Are you afraid of tickling?"

Nina lowered her gaze. "I'm not used to it."

Hearing this, Nash became more proactive. He embraced her tightly, saying, "Then you'll gradually get used to it. One day, you'll be accustomed to it."

Nina leaned against his chest, feeling the warmth enveloping her, which made her cheeks flush slightly. She looked up again, wondering if there would be a turning point in their marriage. She also longed to change her identity.

She began, "Nash... if possible, can we—"

Nash's phone rang, diverting his attention to the device. The words she wanted to say remained unspoken.

Could they assume the roles of husband and wife...

She could stop appearing in his sight as a secretary. But this fleeting thought lasted only a second. When he picked up the phone and saw the name "Miranda" on the screen, she was immediately brought back to reality.

Nash's expression returned to its usual calmness. He released her and sat up, paying no heed to her words.

"Hello."

She observed Nash, who got up from the bed with a stern expression and passed her by as he exited the bedroom to attend to Miranda's call.

Nina's heart sank, and a hint of mockery tugged at her lips. Nina, oh Nina, how could you entertain such fantasies? His heart belongs to Miranda; there will be no feelings between him and you. That was what he said when they got married three years ago.

Nina lifted her head, feeling inexplicably bitter, with warmth gathering in her eyes. She closed her eyes, refusing to shed tears for him anymore.

In fact, he didn't know that ever since she found out about the person in his heart, she would only cry secretly for him, but she never let him see. She remembered her identity very well; she was just a secretary by his side.

Nash returned after finishing the call and saw that Nina wasn't asleep. He reminded her, "There's something urgent at the company. I need to go back. You should rest early."

Nina didn't look at him, unwilling to show her vulnerable side. "I understand. You go ahead. I'll be at work on time tomorrow."

"Alright."

With a response from Nash, he grabbed his coat and left. As the sound of the car engine faded into the distance, her heart felt as if it had cracked.

Nina didn't sleep much that night. The next day, she still had to go to work. She arrived at the office early, where only a few people were present. She went about her duties as usual, organizing Nash's work meticulously. However, Nash didn't show up at the office that day.

Nina tried calling him several times, but his phone was off. Taylor seemed worried. "Nina, Mr. York isn't here today, and we don't know where he went. We'll have to rely on you for the site inspection work."

As Nash's secretary, most of the company's work involved her participation, and she was familiar with this project as well.

Nina made one last phone call but couldn't find him, so she gave up. Suddenly, she remembered that he had answered a call from Miranda last night. Since he hadn't come to the office and was absent all night, he must have gone to see her.

Nina suppressed the bitterness in her heart. "Since Mr. York isn't coming, let's proceed without him."

Outside was scorching hot, and the temperature was high as she arrived at the construction site. The building under construction was just a frame and hadn't taken shape yet, appearing rather chaotic.

Entering the site, she encountered dust and steel bars scattered everywhere, along with machines producing deafening noise. Nina had been here a few times before and was somewhat familiar with it, so she quickly went through the routine.

However, suddenly, someone shouted, "Be careful!"

Nina looked up and saw a piece of glass falling towards her head—