Yvonne Sutton shouted several times, but there was no longer a response from outside. She pounded on the door again, knocking for a long time, but still, there was no answer.

But she knew Wyatt Shaw was right outside.

Exhausted, Yvonne sat down, leaning against the door. She didn’t understand how the Wyatt who had been so gentle, doting, and tolerant with her had suddenly become like this.

So paranoid and crazy that he was starting to scare her.

She closed her eyes and let out a long breath.

Time passed quickly. Dawn broke.

When Yvonne opened her eyes again, she saw beams of light shining into the room. She spotted the window and immediately got up and ran over. Outside the window was a terrace, and from the terrace, she could get down to the courtyard and leave this place.

She pushed open the window, but hesitated the moment she lifted her foot. She couldn’t help but look back at the bedroom door. After a moment of silence, she closed the window again and returned to the door.

"Honey, I’m hungry," she called out.

There was no response, but she heard footsteps. Wyatt was going downstairs.

Yvonne took the opportunity to take a shower. When she came out, she found the door was open. Toweling her hair, she stepped out and was immediately hit by the smell of smoke. She looked down and saw a pile of cigarette butts on the floor.

Last night, she was inside the door, and he was right outside it. She had at least slept for a little while, but he hadn’t slept at all. She had been panicked and scared, but he must have been even more so.

Thinking of this, Yvonne ran downstairs. She saw Wyatt in the kitchen, his back to the door, boiling dumplings.

She ran over and threw her arms around him from behind.

"I’m sorry. I’ll never put myself at risk again, I swear."

Wyatt’s body stiffened. Then he turned around, placed a hand on her forehead, and pushed her away.

Yvonne’s eyes immediately reddened. ’Won’t he forgive me?’

Wyatt pursed his lips. "I haven’t showered. I’m covered in the smell of smoke. It’s disgusting."

Yvonne quickly shook her head and continued to burrow into his embrace.

"I like your smell."

"You like the stench? You have a fetish for that?"

Yvonne swatted his hand away, wrapped her arms around his waist, and buried her face in his chest, taking a deep breath.

"It’s not smelly at all."

Wyatt cleared his throat. "It’s too early in the morning. Don’t tempt me."

Yvonne pushed her luck, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his chin. She discovered he had stubble. She pulled her head back slightly to look at his face—exhausted, cool, with a faint shadow on his chin. He looked worn out, yet incredibly sexy.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing him to bend down so she could kiss him properly.

Wyatt turned his head away. "I haven’t brushed my teeth yet."

"I don’t care, I don’t care."

Wyatt chuckled, then lowered his head and gave her a firm kiss.

"Is that enough?"

Yvonne’s eyes darted playfully. "Honey, are you still going to work today?"

Wyatt wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her up.

"What are you planning?"

Yvonne leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I want you to stay with me."

"Stay with you and do what?"

"In bed."

"What?"

"To sleep."

After saying those two words, Yvonne burst out laughing. Wyatt, knowing he’d been tricked, just gave her a doting kiss.

The dumplings had been boiled into a soupy mess, but Yvonne ate them—a bite of filling, a bite of dough, a sip of broth—all while relentlessly praising Wyatt’s cooking skills. Meanwhile, Wyatt got a hairdryer and dried her hair. Once it was dry, he finished off her leftovers.

While he went to take a shower, Yvonne cleaned up the cigarette butts on the second floor, then lay down on the bed to wait for him.

She waited and waited, and eventually fell asleep. But she wasn’t asleep for long before Wyatt’s movements woke her up.

"Honey," she called out groggily. "I’m sleepy... Mmph..."

Then her mouth was covered. She subconsciously wrapped her arms around Wyatt’s neck and then naturally let go, allowing him to take what he wanted.

"I scared you," he said softly, his voice full of apology.

Yvonne shook her head. "No, I scared you."

"Yeah."

That single "Yeah" sounded so aggrieved. Yvonne couldn’t help but open her eyes to look at Wyatt. She saw him staring at her, his usually confident and calm eyes now filled with panic.

"I’m sorry," she apologized again.

Wyatt held her tighter. "I need you to promise me there won’t be a next time."

"I promise you."

"But what if?"

"There is no ’what if’."

"Actually, I thought about a lot of things last night."

"Like what?"

"If you had really fallen from the roof back then... if you had died, what would I have done?"

"That won’t..."

"I would bury you with my own hands."

"..."

"And then I would kill myself."

"Wyatt!" Yvonne frowned, but seeing his completely serious expression, she took a deep breath. "That won’t happen. I won’t let anything happen to me. I will live a good life, and you have to live a good life too."

"If I’m with you, even death isn’t so terrifying," he said, his chin resting on the top of her head.

Yvonne didn’t know how they had started talking about life and death. The topic was heavy and crazed, just like the Wyatt before her now. He made her feel a sliver of unfamiliarity; perhaps this was another side of him.

In the morning, the two of them caught up on sleep. In the afternoon, Wyatt took her out.

Yvonne had thought Wyatt would take her somewhere with nice scenery to relax. Instead, when she got out of the car, she found herself in a cemetery.

Before she could even process it, a young man in a black suit who looked like a salesperson came running over.

"Mr. Shaw, is that right? The plot you asked for is this way." The salesperson led the way.

Dazed, Yvonne was pulled into the cemetery by Wyatt. They climbed the steps all the way to the top level, where they arrived at an empty plot.

"This is the joint burial plot with the best feng shui in our cemetery. It’s backed by the mountain and faces the water, ensuring endless prosperity. It’s also encircled by mountain terrain, which is called ’a jade belt encircling the waist.’ And if you look at this mountain range, following the lay of the land..."

Wyatt raised a hand, too impatient to listen. "Didn’t I tell you? I want somewhere quiet."

"Rest assured, this area is reserved for just you and your wife’s plot. Everyone else is on the levels below."

Wyatt glanced at the densely packed tombstones below and frowned. "That’s way too many. It won’t be quiet down there in the afterlife either."

"Huh?" The salesperson was a bit bewildered.

"It’d be better to be in some desolate wilderness, just the two of us as lonely ghosts."

Hearing this, the salesperson wiped away a bead of cold sweat.

"Having neighbors is still good. It’ll be lively."

"A crowd of ghosts is just plain scary."

"Er..."

Ghosts scaring other ghosts... It was best not to think too much about that scenario.

Listening to this, Yvonne finally understood Wyatt’s intention. He was actually buying a burial plot for the two of them—and a joint one at that.

She pinched Wyatt’s arm. "What kind of crazy stunt are you pulling?"

Wyatt turned his head to her. "It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Better to prepare early, in case we can’t get a suitable one when the time comes."

"I..."

"Unless... you don’t want to be buried with me?"

Yvonne pursed her lips. "Do whatever you want."

With the joint plot purchased, Wyatt was at ease.

"Darling, we can’t be born on the same day in the same year, but we can die on the same day in the same year. My life is in your hands now. If you ever decide you don’t want to live anymore, remember to take me with you."

Yvonne’s mouth twitched. ’This is definitely a threat!’

Once they were back in the car, a thought struck Yvonne as wrong.

"So you spent all of last night thinking about buying a burial plot?"

"Yeah," Wyatt said.

Yvonne was speechless. She had thought he was panicked and scared, but it turned out he had been frighteningly calm.