Since that day, the relationship remained frozen in a dull, agonising rhythm.
The daily routine became mechanical: the hunt was brought home and left in the kitchen, followed by a long nap. Upon waking, the food would be waiting for them.
That was the extent of the interaction—living under the same roof while existing in entirely different worlds.
During this stretch of time, Sera didn't soften for even a moment.
Struggling to make sense of the situation was a constant battle. Despite being the one who had been wronged, the longing for her presence was a persistent ache in the chest.
There was a desperate wish to tear down the wall between us, yet the strength to actually do it was nowhere to be found.
The suffering was immense, a private burden known only to me. There were countless moments where the thought surfaced: Would it kill her to make just one concession? Just once? An apology wasn't even the goal; just a simple acknowledgement of what had happened would have sufficed.
But it was like shouting into a void. To call out to the living is one thing, but there is no life in those who refuse to hear.
The only silver lining was the total immersion in training and evolution.
Every ounce of longing, frustration, and bottled-up desire was poured into gruelling physical sessions.
A strange development occurred: the more intense and punishing the workout became, the more the mind found a twisted sense of enjoyment.
This visceral focus was the only thing keeping the soul together during those difficult days.
After a week, the endurance finally snapped.
The decision to make the first move felt like a betrayal of pride, and the annoyance at my own lack of resolve was suffocating.
Dammit, I am such a weak man.
Sera was sitting in the library, her focus entirely consumed by a book as it had been for days.
Each step toward her felt like a struggle against an invisible current, hesitant and heavy.
Despite the nerves gnawing at my gut, I sat down beside her.
She closed the book with deliberate slowness, turning those soul-stealing crimson eyes toward me in genuine surprise.
The intensity of her gaze planted seeds of hesitation in my heart, but I pushed through, bracing my resolve.
"Wife, do you have a problem with me?"
Surprise dawned on her face for a few seconds before she replied, "No, I don't have a problem with you."
Hearing that, her chair was pulled forward until our knees were practically touching.
I leaned my upper body in, resting my elbows on my knees to signal my absolute seriousness.
"Then why haven't you spoken to me for the past week?"
Sera shifted her gaze, avoiding direct contact.
"Because you didn't speak to me," she whispered with hesitation.
I reached out and interlaced my fingers with hers.
"I was the one who had an issue with you. Why didn't you speak to me?"
She lowered her head, letting her hair fall like a silken curtain over her features.
"B... because I thought you didn't want me to speak to you."
A long sigh escaped me.
"I know you aren't trying to lie, and I know your goal is to avoid escalation. But I want the truth."
A light sweat began to coat her palms.
Suddenly, she took a sharp, deep breath.
"Because I didn't want to speak to you."
The answer caught me off guard. Expectations had been for a defence of her pride or something of that nature.
"And the reason for that lack of desire?"
Sera fixed me with a sharp, piercing stare that lasted nearly a minute.
"Because I consider you a hypocrite. Or something very close to it."
Speech failed me.
All I could do was instinctively turn my head, trying to process the weight of the word she had just hurled at me.
"A hypocrite?"
"Yes, a hypocrite. Before the marriage, you rejected me outright. You wanted nothing to do with me. Yet, on the very first night we were wed, you suddenly confessed your love?"
She pulled her hands away from mine, her voice gaining a jagged edge.
"Haven't you loved Anastasia since you were a child? Did all those years of history evaporate the moment you finally slept with me?"
"The truth is, Theo, you only care about sex. Nothing else."
"And you love to pretend you're the victim. You did it before the wedding, and you did it again that night. Do you remember?"
"In the middle of my own enjoyment during our intimacy, you made sure to show your own lack of pleasure quite clearly. But the moment I was the one to say no, you tried to blackmail me emotionally."
The words struck like a physical blow because they carried a terrifying amount of truth—truths about myself I hadn't even noticed.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she wasn't finished.
"Don't speak. Let me finish."
Sera placed her hand out to stop me.
"In this marriage, you've rejected me more than once. But the second I turned you down, you acted as if I were some kind of hateful villain."
She bit her lip in a flash of anger.
"And on top of all that, you tried to force the issue with a gift. When I finally broke down and accepted your desires, you rejected me."
Tears began to track down her cheeks.
She pointed a trembling finger at me.
"In that moment, I actually believed you were above your base instincts. How disappointing to realise that your refusal to compliment me just proved you're a hypocrite who doesn't even understand himself."
"That is why I offered myself to you again. I wanted to see the truth. And it became clear: your plan was simply to humiliate me. To take your revenge because I dared to say no to you."
Shock was frozen onto Theo's face.
The words had stripped him bare, leaving him unable to utter a single sound.