After we finished eating, just because I casually wondered aloud if our outfits were too sloppy for marriage registration, Zane Sterling took to get a custom makeover—had soone do my makeup, and picked out more presentable clothes.
So typically straight guy.
After another two hours of fuss, we finally went to the civil affairs bureau, only to be told to change again—this ti into matching white shirts, just like his.
After all, first ti getting married—no clue what I’m doing.
But at least I’ve got the little red book now, so I guess I’m officially soone with a husband.
Sitting in the car on the way back, I looked down at it, a flood of complicated emotions swirling inside .
I’d imagined marrying Henry Quinn countless tis, but when it ca down to it, I just picked the wrong guy.
And I never thought I’d get married this carelessly in my life, or that I’d marry a CEO with so much money.
I have no idea if my future will be happy, but for now, I’m content. I’m happy.
Autumn Lowell, will you regret this?
I ask myself, deep down.
I don’t know.
But I can tell, this man—after everything happened between us, he keeps asking if I’m willing to give being Mrs. Sterling a try, his eyes so sincere.
Both tis he took the doors off were for , it feels like fate, like this was ant to be.
Maybe the matchmaker really did tie us up with steel wire.
So, probably, I won’t regret it.
At so point, I fell asleep without even realizing it. Not sure when my head ended up on his shoulder.
"We’re ho." Zane lowered his head, looking at my peaceful face.
I had makeup on today, so my skin looked extra fair and soft, my eyelashes curling and fluttering a little as I woke up.
"Sorry..." I hurriedly patted the powder off his shoulder.
He watched , obviously amused, lips curling just a bit.
"Are you exhausted?" he shifted a little closer.
"Nope."
——
Back at the villa, it was still early, not even ti for dinner, so I awkwardly fiddled with my fingers.
"I’ve got a dinner eting tonight. Don’t wait up for ." Zane said.
"Okay."
After he said that, he and Ethan Sinclair walked out together.
I let out a sigh of relief.
"Intense—"
Collapsing onto the sofa, I closed my eyes and forced out that word.
After a few minutes, I headed upstairs—our space now.
I started unpacking the luggage from when we’d moved back last night.
There wasn’t much—since I’d only been back from overseas for a year, I just brought the essentials. Packing finished quickly.
I made my way into the study, looking around. Bookshelves lined the left wall, with a tea table, his desk on the right, and an empty table in the middle, a few books lying on it.
I thought for a while, picked up my phone to call Zane, but noticed a new WhatsApp friend request.
—Zane Sterling.
This damn man—
I smiled and accepted it.
[Hello Mr. Sterling, looking forward to spending the rest of my life with you. ]
[Hello Ms. Lowell, the rest of my life is all yours.]
Whoa, was that a love confession? Where did he learn that?
Actually, he didn’t know what to reply, so he’d asked Ethan Sinclair—the strategist—who told him exactly what to write.
I couldn’t help but grin playfully.
At night, after eating and washing up, I lay in bed and ssaged Autumn Lowell.
Autumn is my mom—back in her day, she was a total beauty. She’s living overseas, should just be getting up now.
[ Ms. Lowell, I’m married.]
[You scared awake first thing in the morning! I hadn’t even gotten up.]
[Haha...] I rolled around twice on the bed, face flushing for no reason.
[Is your husband handso? Does he treat you well?]
[He’s pretty great.]
We chatted about this and that, back and forth, until I drifted off.
It was deep into the night when Zane knocked on my door, but I was still fast asleep.
He stood by the bed, reading my chat with Autumn on the phone, lips curled in a silent smile. Then he set the phone aside and carefully tucked in.
After his own bedti routine, he didn’t lie down, just went back to work at his desk in the study.
No idea how much ti passed, but I woke up to the sound of his keyboard clicking.
Half-asleep, I opened my eyes and saw the study light was on. I kind of needed to pee, so I got up slowly and headed to the bathroom.
The bathroom’s through the walk-in closet, past the study, then in.
As I went by the study, I saw Zane still frowning at docunts.
He was in gray loungewear, two buttons undone, collarbone barely showing, fraless glasses accentuating those deep, intense eyes as he looked at the sleepy ss I was.
"Did I wake you?"
I shook my head, "Why aren’t you in bed yet?"
"Got so files to finish up."
"Oh." I answered, and continued to the bathroom.
When I ca back, Zane had just shut off his computer.
"..."
Should I say sothing here? I suddenly got nervous, all traces of sleep gone.
I flopped over, burying my face and pretending to sleep.
After a few minutes, the mattress dipped beside —a warm body lay down.
I didn’t dare open my eyes. I knew it was him. I’d totally forgotten we were married now.
My heart was pounding, fingers that had been loose now clenched tight in my palm.
"Goodnight." Zane said.
"..."
Guess I’ll just keep pretending to sleep.
——
The next morning, Zane woke .
"Eat breakfast before going back to sleep."
He seed in a great mood, his almost-smiling expression so different from his usual stone-faced look.
I rubbed my eyes, checked my phone.
How is he so energetic? He was up so late last night and still gets up early—seven-thirty...
He stood by the closet, totally at ease changing his shirt right in front of .
I stealthily pulled the blanket over my peeking eyes.
"Coming to the office with ?" he asked, buttoning up as he approached.
"Nah, I..."
I was about to say I’ll drive myself, but then realized my car was still at the old Plum Blossom Gardens house.
"Ethan brought your car back last night—it’s in the garage. Keys are on the nightstand."
"Okay." I was still hiding, too shy to look.
Zane walked out and closed the door before I finally peeled the covers off my face.
[So, how does it feel to be chased by a CEO?] Ethan ssaged first thing in the morning.
[Chased? I’ll just take that as your congratulations.]
Why chased? I an, we just slept together and now we’re married. Thought I was pregnant from malnutrition—total misunderstanding.
The maid had made a perfectly balanced breakfast—I’d never been pampered like this before, felt pretty spoiled.
"Madam, Sir asked you to take this."
Yesterday they were calling Miss Lowell, today it’s Madam—the maid changed instantly. It took a second to react.
I glanced at the cute, elegant pink thermos she was holding.
"There’s hot milk inside, keeps at temperature. Sir said you have to take it, drink whenever you’re thirsty."
Zane’s so awkward—can’t say it to directly, so makes the maid tell instead.
"Okay."
I slung my bag over my shoulder, took the pink thermos from her, and headed toward the garage.
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