Chapter 5 Everything is Strange

Chapter Five: Everything is Strange

The first night in the Copper penthouse felt like stepping into someone else's story, a life that didn't quite belong to Gold, but now had her name etched on its front door.

Mrs. Gold Copper.

She said it aloud once, then promptly regretted it. The name didn't sound like hers. It sounded like someone who had grown up attending galas, not someone who clipped grocery coupons and juggled three part-time jobs to survive college.

The suite Daniel gave her was tucked away on the opposite side of the penthouse. Spacious. Quiet. And entirely too elegant for a woman who used to fall asleep on a secondhand couch in a shared apartment with pipes that groaned louder than her heartbreak.

She stood barefoot on the cool hardwood floor, slowly circling the room. A king-sized bed with pristine white linens. A walk-in closet the size of her old living room. A bathroom with a sunken tub and marble sinks. Everything was soft-lit, modern, and cold.

Beautiful, yes. But soulless.

Kind of like her new husband.

She paused by the window, gazing out at the city that buzzed beneath her. It felt surreal, being this high up, above all the noise and chaos she used to live in. Up here, everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Gold wasn't used to silence. She wasn't used to having space or time to think. And she certainly wasn't used to luxury that looked like it had been ripped from a lifestyle magazine.

Her reflection in the glass stared back at her, barefaced, hair loose, wrapped in a robe that Daniel's assistant had folded neatly on the bed.

She didn't feel like a wife.

She felt like a guest. Or worse, a well-kept secret.

There was a soft knock at the door.

She turned, startled. "Come in?"

Daniel stepped inside, still dressed in his suit, though he'd removed the jacket and rolled up the sleeves. He looked exhausted. Less like the cold CEO and more like a man who hadn't slept in days.

"I figured you might be hungry," he said, holding up a small tray with two mugs and a plate of what looked suspiciously like chocolate chip cookies.

Gold blinked. "Are those...?"

"Homemade," he said, almost sheepishly. "Well, not by me. My housekeeper left them. But I did warm them up."

She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at her lips. "Didn't peg you for a midnight snack kind of guy."

"I'm full of surprises." He crossed the room and placed the tray on the side table, then hesitated. "May I?"

Gold nodded, curling her legs up as she sat on the bed. Daniel took the armchair across from her.

For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Just the quiet clinking of mugs as they sipped cocoa that was way too fancy to be from a packet.

"Thank you," she said finally. "For... this."

He looked at her, one brow raised. "For the cocoa or the penthouse?"

"For not treating this like a business transaction. Not completely, anyway."

Daniel leaned back, his expression unreadable. "I didn't want to marry someone who only saw the zeros in my bank account."

Gold tilted her head. "You didn't want love, but you didn't want a gold digger either?"

"I didn't want to be used," he said quietly. "Not again."

She studied him for a moment. "Someone hurt you."

He gave a dry laugh. "That obvious?"

"To someone who just got dumped for a wealthier woman? Yeah."

He looked at her then, really looked. "We're two people who know what betrayal feels like."

Gold nodded slowly. "Doesn't mean we know what to do with it."

"No," he agreed. "But maybe we can build something from it. Something clean. Honest. Even if it's temporary."

She appreciated that about him, his brutal honesty. No sugarcoating. No fake promises.

Just reality.

They shared a quiet moment, sipping cocoa, the tension softening between them like butter left on a warm counter.

"I'm not used to this," she admitted. "The space. The quiet. It almost feels like... too much."

Daniel rested his mug on the tray. "You'll adjust."

"Will I?"

He gave her a small, almost reassuring smile. "You're tougher than you look."

Gold stared at him, surprised. "You think I look weak?"

"I think you look like someone who's had to survive for so long, she forgot what thriving feels like."

That hit harder than she expected.

She looked down, blinking quickly. "It's strange. I keep thinking I should be crying. Or panicking. Or regretting everything. But I'm just... here. Existing."

"That's okay," Daniel said. "Sometimes surviving is the bravest thing you can do."

Their eyes locked again. And this time, the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It was... familiar.

Daniel stood, smoothing his sleeves down. "I'll let you rest."

Gold watched him walk to the door, then called out, "Daniel?"

He turned.

"Thank you. For the cookies. And the cocoa. And for not making this harder than it already is."

His voice was quieter than usual when he replied, "Goodnight, Gold."

And then he was gone.

She lay back on the plush bed, staring at the ceiling, her heart quieter than it had been in weeks.

She didn't trust him. Not yet.

But maybe, just maybe, she didn't need to.

Not tonight.

Tonight, they were just two broken people pretending they had a little peace. And for now, that was enough.