Chapter 3
Cordelia wrapped a light robe around herself and stepped out to the front of the house, where Marcus was working out.
He was bare-chested, his muscles defined as he lifted two dumbbells. The early morning sun cast a golden glow over him, and for a moment, he seemed almost divine—like Helios himself, descending from the heavens.
Her cheeks flushed slightly as she greeted him quietly. “You’re up early.”
Marcus glanced at her briefly, then turned back to his workout.
Cordelia took in her surroundings. The front of the house was small and cluttered. Sandbags, boxing gloves, baseball bats, and weights were scattered around haphazardly. Her heart tightened at the sight. Though she couldn’t say for certain, it seemed clear that Marcus fought often.
She wondered about his temperament. She had heard whispers that people in this area could be rough, that it wasn’t unusual for drunk men to hurt their wives. She bit her lip, hesitating.
With a soft breath, she stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Um… have you had breakfast?”
“No,” he replied curtly, his voice cold.
“Go make some,” she suggested, her tone gentle.
He nodded without a word.
Cordelia hurried into the kitchen, determined to make something quick. She worked efficiently, preparing a pot of soup, pancakes, and even a plate of crispy bacon, which she set before Marcus.
When he looked up, his eyes met hers, and something in her expression made him pause. He reached for the bacon and placed some on her plate.
Cordelia was caught off guard for a moment. She hadn’t expected that. She was about to protest, but the words caught in her throat.
She had so much she wanted to say to him—so many things she felt were important. For one, she felt the need to apologize for last night. Though it was normal for newlyweds to be intimate, it had felt like he was pushing her too much. She also wanted to ask about their future—what plans did he have for them as a married couple? And most importantly, she didn’t even know what kind of work he did or how he planned to take care of their family.
But when she saw Marcus take a bite of the food, her eyes lingered on the calluses on his fingers. They were thick and rough, signs of many hours spent punching and hitting sandbags. The thoughts she’d been about to voice evaporated.
The silence of the meal stretched on, and though Cordelia felt unsettled by it, there was no turning back.
“Do you have anything to do today?” she asked, breaking the silence.
Marcus paused mid-bite, looking up at her. “What’s going on?”
“I need to return the wedding dress,” she said with a small smile, as though it were an everyday task.
Marcus froze. He hadn’t given the wedding any thought at all, and now it hit him that she had rented the dress. For other women, a wedding dress was a once-in-a-lifetime purchase, a moment of joy. But to Cordelia, it seemed like just another thing to deal with. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“I’m not asking you to come with me!” Cordelia quickly clarified when she saw his expression. “I’ll return it myself. You go ahead with your plans. Don’t worry about me.”
“Mm,” he replied, his voice distant.
Their exchange was polite, almost as if they were strangers or roommates sharing a space rather than husband and wife.
Cordelia packed the dress carefully, bagging it in plastic just as she had received it. She then took several buses, finally arriving at the bridal boutique just before noon.
The Jenners had given her nothing for the wedding, aside from the promised monetary gift. Cordelia had done everything herself—finding this boutique and choosing a dress that fit her budget and taste. The shop was small, and the staff had an air of arrogance. Women like Cordelia—those who rented their wedding dresses—were looked down upon.
“Miss, are you sure we’ll still be able to rent this dress in the future?” The sales assistant sneered, her voice dripping with disdain.
“Look at it. See what you’ve done to it!”