Chapter 4Bald Before the Altar

I spent the entire night preparing documents and paperwork.

I was so focused that I didn't even notice when Roman came home.

It wasn't until he stood in front of me that I looked up at him briefly.

Then I quickly lowered my head and continued with my work.

Roman’s face instantly turned cold. "Lena!"

Before, when he came home, I would rush to him immediately.

But this time, I just kept typing away.

He assumed I was deliberately giving him the cold shoulder, his expression hardening.

I didn't stop what I was doing, offering a perfunctory reply. "Oh, you're back."

Roman was momentarily stunned.

He had never been treated so coldly by me, and his expression quickly turned to anger.

I didn't understand why he was mad.

Was it because I wasn't questioning him about his late return, or throwing a tantrum like before?

"Lena, why do you have to be so petty? It was just a bit of hair shaved off, why are you still clinging to such a small matter…."

I was scolded without reason.

In the past, I would have argued with Roman.

But now, I just smiled softly. "You've got it wrong. I'm not angry, I'm just busy with work."

Roman's unfinished words were cut off by my reply.

He pursed his lips and, for once, offered an explanation. "I was a bit late because I had to take Chelsea home. She was drunk, and it's not safe for a girl to be out alone at night. Don't be silly and get jealous."

I frowned, looking at Roman.

"I’m genuinely not angry, and you don’t need to explain it to me."

Roman froze for a moment.

"You… you're really not angry?"

I chuckled softly. "You two are childhood friends; it's normal to help each other out."

For a split second, a rare look of confusion crossed Roman’s face.

But I didn't pay much attention.

I walked straight past Roman.

Just as I reached the study door, Roman’s angry voice rang out behind me.

"Lena, what are you doing?"

"I've been trying to explain nicely, and you're still throwing a fit!"

I looked back at him, utterly bewildered. "What did I do now?"

I just wanted to go into the study to grab some documents.

But Roman seemed absolutely furious.

"Lena, I thought you had really changed your ways. It seems I misjudged you!"

"You stay home and reflect properly. Until you admit your mistakes, don't even think about marrying me!"

There wouldn't be a wedding.

I couldn't count how many times Roman and I had planned a wedding.

Yet it never successfully took place.

The first time, on the eve of the wedding, Chelsea burned her hand. Roman, in his haste to care for her, canceled the wedding without a second thought.

The second time, Chelsea deliberately fed me a cake laced with mango, causing me to have an allergic reaction and collapse, throwing the entire ceremony into chaos.

The third time, Chelsea "accidentally" shredded my wedding dress again, forcing another delay…

…

In the end.

I was completely numb.

So when Roman mentioned the wedding again this time, I instinctively didn't book a venue or inform any friends or family.

Sure enough, my choice was correct.

Roman sneered now, but didn't leave.

It wasn't until a few minutes later that he slammed the front door shut and stormed out.

I knew why he was angry.

He had offered an olive branch, a rare thing.

And I hadn't taken it.

I smiled calmly.

After organizing all the documents, I prepared to send them to my professor for confirmation.

I accidentally slipped and scrolled into Chelsea’s social media feed.

Just moments ago, she had updated her status.

The video showed Chelsea straddling Roman’s lap, their postures intimate, as they drank linked arms.

Her red lips were just inches from Roman’s.

The caption read:

"Drink my wine, and you're mine."

Below, Roman had "liked" it.

Their mutual friends were even cheering them on with congratulatory messages.

At that moment, I felt like an objective observer, surprisingly calm.

I lightly tapped the screen, offering a sincere wish: "Remember to save me a seat at the wedding banquet."