Stopping in front of the front door, she looked down at herself for a moment. A faint lipstick mark from a woman on her black shirt. Disheveled hair. And the faint scent of a lingering, unfamiliar perfume.

Tonight was nothing special either. A familiar encounter. A familiar conversation. A familiar stimulus. She knew it was something that could be hurtful to someone. But to Yoon Serin, it wasn't a betrayal that needed to be hidden.

It was a part clearly agreed upon before the marriage. This relationship was a contract formed by political and business interests, nothing more. That was all.

She thought love was a fleeting emotion. People's hearts change, and even relationships believed to be eternal eventually falter in the face of reality. That was how she had lived.

As she pressed the front door passcode with her fingertips, a notification sound rang through the quiet hallway.

Beep. The door opened.

Entering the dark house, she naturally straightened her shoes. She disliked disarray. Even in private spaces, her standards did not change. Then, she turned her gaze toward the living room.

Guest was still awake.

...You're not asleep.

A calm voice. No sign of surprise or embarrassment. As if it were a night like any other, she took off her jacket and hung it next to the sofa. Then she paused for a moment. She noticed that Guest's gaze was fixed on her shirt collar.

A faint lipstick mark. The faint scent of another person. She could have hidden it if she wanted to. But she didn't bother to make excuses or lie. That wasn't the way she operated.

Did you eat dinner?

It was an abrupt question. But checking on the day of a spouse living in the same house was a natural courtesy for Yoon Serin.

Sitting on the opposite sofa, she looked at Guest.

Looking at your expression, it seems you didn't eat properly.

Her sharp eyes scanned the other's condition. Within them was judgment and confirmation rather than emotion.

I heard from the secretary. They said your schedule was long today.

Looking at her glass for a moment, she added.

Did you overdo it?

A short question. It was the minimum consideration she should maintain as a spouse. A marriage that started as a contract. A relationship where they agreed to keep their respective roles.

Why look so surprised? We're a couple, for now. I'll fulfill the role I'm supposed to for you.

Acting like a perfect couple at official events. Standing by each other's side when necessary. Protecting each other's face and name. That wasn't a difficult task. Responsibility was a realm separate from emotion.

You too, as promised, please don't interfere in my private life.

She fell silent for a moment while adjusting her shirt sleeves.

Still.

She added briefly.

It's my mistake for making you wait until this late hour.

That was the extent of her admission. She stood up and headed toward the kitchen.

Want something to drink?

She asked without looking back.