Chapter 485: Chapter 485 Like a Wife_1

The wind was strong on the river bank, chilling Purple Summers to the bone. She felt cold inside too, as if a gaping hole had been torn open in her heart, allowing an icy current to pour directly into it and freeze it solid.

It took her nearly half an hour of walking along the embankment before she managed to hail a taxi.

When she got home, Atra Blanc had already prepared dinner.

“Why do you look so pale?” Atra asked as she arranged the tableware, looking up to see her daughter’s pallid face. She immediately went over and took Purple’s hands into her own. “Your hands are so cold.”

“The spring flowers are blooming, I went for a walk outside with Alexander,” Purple explained offhandedly.

“You two are too careless. The cold snap hasn’t passed yet. At this time of the year, it’s easiest to catch a cold!” Atra frowned and sighed before hurriedly heading for the kitchen. “I’m going to make you some ginger soup.”

“Okay,” Purple agreed, smiling sweetly. She didn’t want to worry Atra.

Atra quickly made the ginger soup and brought it to Purple to drink while it was hot, to chase away the chill.

The ginger soup was richly flavored, with added jujubes, leaving a strong, spicy tang and a sweet taste of dates as it flowed over her tongue.

Sipping slowly, Purple couldn’t help but think of the ginger soup Alexander had once made for her.

It was sweet…

It was warm.

The icy feeling in her heart from standing on the river bank seemed to slowly thaw.

She told herself there was no need to feel guilty—after all, it was Nathaniel who had been unfaithful first. Their marriage was in name only, so even if she fell in love with someone else, it wasn’t immoral.

Besides…

Besides, Alexander had given so much more.

To repay Alexander, she was willing to be immoral just this once.

Purple was clear-headed about her rebirth. It was as if she had been given a second chance at life, which she intended to cherish. She shouldn’t enchain herself to a relationship that belonged to the past.

Realizing this, Purple felt her mood improve slightly.

There was still sorrow, but it no longer felt as oppressive.

…

Alexander did not return that night.

When she woke up in the morning and saw the empty space beside her in bed, Purple was momentarily stunned.

There was a time when she slept fitfully each night, locking windows and doors, fearing that man would burst in in the middle of the night.

Yet, at some point, she had grown accustomed to his presence, to nestling against his chest, and she found that his absence now left her feeling a vague sense of loss.

It was as if she was a wife waiting at home, sleepless and alone.

Even during her marriage to Nathaniel, she had never felt this way.

Back then, it was just a matter of reaching the right age. Her grandmother’s health was failing, and her only wish was to see her granddaughter married and with children—an anchor in the journey of life.

She didn’t dislike Nathaniel; they got along well and were comfortable with each other, which naturally led to discussions about marriage.

It all happened effortlessly.

Life after marriage was bland but cozy—without suspense, without waves, and without passion. Isn’t that just how life is? With daily routines and household chores, some people make their lives sweeter as the years go by, while others find it becomes more tasteless.

She believed she was one of the latter…

Indeed… was it because she didn’t love him?

Because she didn’t love him, she wasn’t willing to put in the effort to maintain and nurture their marriage, allowing it to crumble without even realizing it.

In fact, Nathaniel was right—she was the most heartless one.

It was precisely because of her heartlessness that she felt anger and irritation, but never heartbreak, upon discovering Nathaniel’s affair with Jade Carlson.

Some dark part of Purple’s heart thought: Maybe this is better—it certainly lessens my guilt.

…Is that a little despicable of me?

Purple got out of bed and went through her morning routine, her mind filled with a clutter of thoughts.

She picked up her bag, ready to go to school, only to find Nathaniel leaning against the wall of the small Western-style house, surrounded by a scattering of cigarette butts. It looked like he had been waiting for a long time.

“I’ll take you to school,” Nathaniel’s voice was hoarse, his eyes rimmed with dark circles—he hadn’t slept all night.