The door opened, and Julian walked in.

Willow knew it was him. With her back turned, she spoke in a detached tone, “Don’te here again. ying the victim after what you’ve done is futile. No one cares for your fake sympathy.”

Julian stepped forward, trying to grasp Willow’s shoulder, but she avoided him.

His hand hovered in midair for a long moment before he finally said in a low voice, “I won’t divorce you. Willow, we have an agreement.”

“I know, I signed for two years. Julian, if you insist on not getting a divorce, then I can wait. In the worst case, I’ll take the money and the shares when the two years are up. It won’t change the oue.”

Willow lookedpletely indifferent.

Julian’s voice was heavy with pain. “Willow, it shouldn’t be like this between us.”

Willow retorted, “Then, how should it be? Julian, besides money, what else is there between us?”

By evening, Willow needed to return to her apartment.

As soon as she stepped out of the inpatient building, she saw a ck Rolls–Royce Phantom parked by the roadside. Julian stood beside the car in his usual refined manner, a half–burnt cigarette between his slender fingers, looking like he was waiting for someone.

Willow acted as if she didn’t see him and brushed past him.

He reached out and grabbed her arm at once. His dark eyes were deep and unreadable, his voice low. “I want to take you somewhere.” Willow refused, “I don’t want to go.”

But Julian wasn’t letting her say no. He had always been forceful, but this time, there was a rare trace of gentleness. He was afraid she would reject him.

After a moment, Willow sat in the passenger seat. “Julian, I don’t have time to entertain you. If you’re lonely, I don’t mind if you go looking for Catherine or Tegan.”

Julian buckled his seatbelt and turned his head slightly, speaking softly, “Tonight is Christmas Eve, Let’s spend it together.”

Willow remained unmoved.

His voice grew even gentler as he asked, “Do you hate me now? Does being around me make you ufortable?”

She responded with ba /bcold sneer.

}

He said nothing more and lightly pressed the gas pedal.

Soon, the neon lights of bthe /bbcity /bcame into view. The colorful glow reflected off the luxury car’s body, spilling through bthe /bdark–tinted windows, casting flickering hues over the two of them.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, but Julian suddenly had the urge to touch Willow.

The warmth of his fingers had barely brushed against her soft skin before she moved her hand away. Her voice was colder than ever. “Julian, bI /balready told you. I don’t care if you pay for women outside.”

Indifference from a woman wounded a man’s pride the most.

And Julian was a proud man.

He withdrew his hand and didn’t overstep his bounds again.

Soonb, /bnight fell

Brindley Theater stood resplendent in golden light, its silhouette dazzling against the night sky.

At the entranceb, /bpromotional posters lined the bspace/bb, /ball featuring Willow’s favorite violinist. Julian had spent a fortune arranging ba /bprivate performance.

Naturally, the cost was steep. It cost him 60 million to invite such a beautiful woman.

b+25 /bbBonus /b

However, he felt that it was worth it if he could bsee /bWillow smile.

Looking at his wife, he spoke softly, “I owe you this concert. I’m making up for it today.”

Willow didn’t smile.

She gently ran her fingers over the posters as if touching the remnants of her own foolishness. After a long pause, she murmured, “Julian, you’ll never be able to repay me for the things you owe me.”

Julian stiffened.

He thought Willow would turn and leave. But she stayed.

W

She sat next to Julian as the violinist yed the same piece as before.

Several times, he tried to hold her hand, but each time, she subtly avoided him.

She didn’t speak or look at him. She treated him like a stranger.