Chapter 2

After the ceremony ended, Lachlan wrapped his arm around my waist and went around offering toasts to the elders.

Vernon sat at the table next to the main one and raised his glass toward Lachlan from a distance.

I instantly felt a tightening around my waist, and the air around me seemed to drop several degrees.

The next second, I heard the sound of sobbing, choked and trembling. "Oh... System, he's provoking me..."

There was someone with that cloying, high-pitched voice! Help!

That low, raspy voice sounded right next to my ear, sending a tingling numbness all over my body.

I quickly broke free from Lachlan's tense arms, raised my glass, and offered Vernon a polite smile. "Thank you, Mr. Howe, for gracing us with your presence..."

Before I could finish my sentence, Lachlan also raised his glass, deliberately positioning it to block mine and Vernon's glasses from clinking.

His inner thought, like a jealous little puppy, "Stay away from Camille, you jerk!"

Outwardly, he calmly repeated my words, "Thank you, Mr. Howe, for gracing us with your presence."

I let out a sigh of relief, thinking maybe he hadn't secretly held a grudge over what I said earlier.

Then... during the following toasts, I ended up hearing "Thank you, Mr. Howe, for gracing us with your presence" more than fifty times.

His tone was so dripping with sarcasm and fake sweetness-like that cringey, over-the-top way people mockingly mix cutesy tones with snark.

So Lachlan was holding a grudge after all...

To calm him down, I took his hand and placed it back around my waist.

Lachlan frowned at my action and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Isn't this what you like?"

"I don't!" Lachlan denied coldly, yet his hand remained motionless, showing no intention of letting go.

Inside, he cried silently, wondering, "How does Camille know I like this? Did I break character? I can't let it fall apart now..."

At the same time, Lachlan grinned foolishly and thought, "So soft! System, you wouldn't get it without a wife."

A suspicious blush crept up the tips of his ears.

Amused, I deliberately leaned closer and teased, "If you don't like it, why are you still clinging on?"

Lachlan hesitated for a moment before saying in a low voice, "As a member of the Clayton Family, this is the courtesy expected toward one's partner."

He kept making up nonsense with a straight face, and I couldn't help but let out a laugh.

Hearing my laughter, Lachlan's expression turned grim, as if reminded of something. "Don't smile at outsiders again," he said darkly.

Then he grumbled in his heart, feeling wronged, "Camille shouldn't be smiling at that trashy male lead, only at me!"

"Alright, alright," I quickly agreed, afraid he'd start nattering on again.

"Is Camille annoyed with me? Am I being too controlling...?" he thought sadly.

A sad puppy was truly difficult to comfort...

That night before bed, Lachlan wore a cold, abstinent expression, looking completely unapproachable. "From now on, we'll sleep in separate rooms. You take the master bedroom, I'll go to the guest room."

I sat calmly at the edge of the bed, pretending to tidy up the sheets.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him hesitantly shuffling to the door, looking back every few steps.

Lachlan begged inwardly. "Camille, please stop me... I can warm the bed, and I can offer my arm as your pillow. It's really comfy..."

At last, he began acting out a scene at the doorknob. "Dear doorknob, I know you don't want me to leave either... but I have a cold and distant persona to maintain. I can't keep acting on impulse," Clutching the doorknob tightly, he looked pitiful and torn.

"Wait." I abruptly turned around.

By the time I looked again, Lachlan had already put on an indifferent expression and said, "Is there something you need?"

"I'm not used to sleeping alone. Could you... Could you bring me the stuffed puppy from the guest room?"

"Camille wants me to sleep with her!" A string of petulant outbursts flashed through Lachlan's mind, cutting off the rest of my sentence.

Before I could explain, he cleared his throat, half-closed his eyes, and said, "Then I suppose I'll reluctantly stay."

He then clumsily grabbed his pajamas from the wardrobe and swayed into the bathroom.

He didn't give me any time to react.

A silly, snickering chuckle bubbled up in his mind. "Gotta get all nice and clean-only then can I snuggle up with Camille to sleep!"

That was what he'd been thinking before going in.

When he came out, he slipped into the bed alone, turned his back to me, and kept a cool, distant demeanor, like he wanted nothing to do with me.

However, with my mind-reading ability, I had already seen through him.

Sure enough, just after I entered the bathroom, laughter suddenly erupted outside.

It startled me so much that I almost lost my grip on the showerhead.

"Camille's in there, I specifically picked her favorite herbal-scented shower gel."

Only then did I realize the air was filled with a scent that wasn't mine.

A warmth crept up my cheeks as I hurried through my shower, trying to drown out Lachlan's occasional lewd thoughts with the rush of water.

When I came out, he had finally quieted down. At some point, he had already fallen asleep.

Well, he had drunk quite a lot today, especially the drinks Vernon personally offered him later. He accepted them all without even a frown.

He remained defiant in his heart, thinking, "I can't lose to Vernon, not with Camille watching me."

Such a silly puppy.

I sighed softly and brushed my hand across his brow and eyes.

Asleep, he looked so well-behaved. His lashes rested gently, and his brows relaxed, unlike the cold sharpness he carried during the day.

Just as I was about to pull my hand away, Lachlan's lips moved slightly.

I leaned closer to hear him. "Wife, hug... hug..."

It was the first time I had ever heard the word "wife" come from his lips.

While I was frozen in place, the sleeping Lachlan seemed even more open. He reached out and wrapped his arm tightly around me.

I had no choice but to curl up in his arms.

Then came the familiar sound of his giggling. "I got to cuddle my wife. Camille didn't push me away. She must like me at least a little."

I had actually almost fallen for his lousy performance!

The urge to push him away surged wildly.

But in the end, I didn't move.

Well... hugging a stuffed puppy or a real one wasn't all that different.

If anything, this little puppy... was a bit warm.