BEGINNING
Shanghai, 2017
The ballroom of the Waldorf Astoria shimmered with a luxury I had rarely seen in my life. The warm glow of the chandeliers cascaded over tables adorned with fresh red and white flowers. Everything resembled a tribute to love and prosperity, yet I felt like I could barely breathe amidst such opulence.
The white qipao I wore, custom-made for this evening, clung to my figure with the delicacy of satin. Each golden thread and embroidered pearl seemed to promise fortune and purity. On my wrist, the jade bracelet my grandmother gave me shimmered under the lamps, as if it had a life of its own. That small symbol of my past became my protection amidst all this chaos.
Despite how dazzling everything was, my eyes could only search for him. Chen Hao. There he was, across the room, surrounded by older men who laughed with admiration. His bearing was imposing, his tailored black suit accentuated his elegance, and every gesture of his seemed to have the power to stop time. From where I stood, I could perceive that confidence that made everything revolve around him.
I gazed at him, unable to look away. For years I had dreamed of this moment, though I never believed it would come true. In high school, Chen Hao was an unattainable dream, a secret I kept even from my closest friends.
"We were never close," I thought bitterly. I was invisible to him in those years. But now... now I was his wife. Fate, with its inexplicable way of acting, had crossed our paths in a way I would never have imagined.
When my parents announced the arranged marriage, my first impulse was to rebel. Marry for business? It was a prison disguised as a ceremony. But when I heard his name, everything changed. My heart skipped a beat, and my resistance crumbled. In its place, hope blossomed. The idea of spending the rest of my life by the side of the man I had always loved seemed enough to accept the rules of this game.
That morning, as I signed the marriage certificate, my hands trembled. I remember it as vividly as if I were still there. I felt his hand on mine, firm and warm, as if he wanted to transmit the security that I lacked. It was a brief gesture, but enough to give me a certainty: perhaps this marriage could become something real.
As the guests congratulated me, I tried to keep the smile, though my heart began to feel an unease that I could not ignore. Chen Hao had been courteous throughout the ceremony, but as the night progressed, I noticed his gaze becoming more and more distant. Was it my imagination?
The announcement of the first dance pulled me from my thoughts. An attendant showed that I should go to the center of the room, where he was already waiting for me. My heart pounded as I walked across the marble floor, feeling everyone's eyes on me.
"Ready?" his soft voice enveloped me, making the bustle of the room disappear.
"Yes," I managed to answer, though my fingers trembled when I took his hand.
The music began, and our bodies moved to the rhythm. His hand on my waist was firm, and his proximity made the world around us blur. I dared to raise my gaze, and our eyes met. There was something in his expression, a mix of emotions that I could not decipher.
"You are a perfect wife," he murmured, so low that only I could hear it.
Warmth rose to my cheeks, but I strove to keep my composure.
"Thank you," I replied, struggling not to show how much his words affected me.
However, as we continued dancing, I felt rigidity in his movements. His steps were precise, but something was missing. There was a distance that I did not understand. Was he tired? Or was there something more that he was not telling me?
When the music ended, applause filled the room. Chen Hao released my hand gently and headed back to the table, his posture impeccable and his expression so neutral that it disconcerted me. I wanted to approach him, but a group of women surrounded me before I could do so.
"Xu Ai, we envy you so much," one of them said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Marrying Chen Hao... how did you do it?"
I forced a smile, though her words left a bitter taste in my mouth.
"Destiny always has its own plans," I replied, keeping my composure.
As the questions continued, I felt disconnected, as if my mind was floating away from the bustle. Though I was married to the man I loved, a small seed of insecurity began to sprout. "Will my love be enough for him?" I wondered, pretending to listen to their trivial comments.
I returned to the table and saw him holding a glass of wine. He seemed focused on a conversation that I could not hear, his expression cold and impenetrable. An inexplicable emptiness took hold of me.
"I am going to make this marriage work," I promised myself. "No matter how long it takes or how many obstacles I have to overcome."
When the night came to an end and we got into the car that would take us home, I glanced at him sideways. His posture remained perfect, but his distant expression did not change. I wished I had the courage to ask him what he was thinking, but I held back.
I rested my head on the window and let out a sigh. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my mind. Though a silent sadness settled in my chest, I also carried with me an unbreakable determination: to find a way to turn this union into something real.
*****
The murmur of conversations filled the room, but for me, it was just background noise. My attention drifted between the empty words of the businessmen surrounding me and the fleeting glances I stole at Xu Ai. She moved among the guests with a grace that seemed innate. Her white dress shimmered under the ballroom lights, and the jade bracelet on her wrist appeared as a symbol of purity that accentuated her beauty. She was the image of perfection.
I had wanted this day more than I was willing to admit. When my parents spoke to me about the arranged marriage, I accepted it with the indifference of someone who is used to fulfilling family expectations. But everything changed the day I heard her name: Xu Ai. I remembered the days in high school when I would see her pass by with her shy smile and her hair pulled back. Back then, I would never have imagined that she would become my wife. Now she was.
"Mr. Chen, allow me to congratulate you once again," one of the businessmen said, bowing his head slightly.
"Thank you," I responded with a measured smile, the automatic gesture of someone who has spent their entire life practicing social perfection.
Inside, my chest pounded. I needed a moment to myself, something that would allow me to calm the internal chaos that Xu Ai provoked in me. With a slight nod, I excused myself and headed towards the hallways that led to the private restrooms of the hotel. My footsteps echoed on the marble, and the echo provided me with a momentary calm. I closed the door behind me and leaned on the sink, letting out a sigh that I didn't know I was holding back.
I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes reflected something that I rarely saw in myself: happiness. I never imagined that an arranged marriage could mean something more than an obligation. But Xu Ai... she had changed everything. For a moment, I allowed myself to enjoy that feeling. I closed my eyes, trying to etch into my memory this peace that I rarely experienced.
Then, a voice on the other side of the door interrupted my thoughts.
"You did it," a woman commented, her tone filled with satisfaction.
I frowned and remained motionless. I recognized the voice, although at first, I was not sure who it belonged to. It was the response that followed that cleared up any doubts.
"Of course, I did it," Xu Ai's mother said with pride, though I found it unpleasant. "Did you doubt it? Everything was perfectly calculated."
My heart stopped for an instant, and then it began to beat strongly, but this time not out of happiness. I slowly approached the door, pressing myself against it to hear better.
"And your daughter?" the other voice asked, full of curiosity.
"Xu Ai? She couldn't be happier. What young woman wouldn't want to marry a man like Chen Hao? He is handsome, powerful, and with this marriage, we have secured our position. Besides, she accepted it quickly. She knew what it meant for our family. And let's not fool ourselves, my daughter has always had high aspirations. This marriage gives her the power she always wanted."
The laughter that followed her words hit me like a slap. I took a step back, unable to process what I had just heard. "Is this what Xu Ai really thinks? Is that what she wants? Power?" I asked myself as a mix of anger and pain took hold of me.
I returned to the ballroom, but everything seemed different. The murmurs of the guests and the bright lights were like a distant echo. Only she stayed clear, there, on the other side of the room. She looked at me with a smile that before would have filled my chest with warmth but now felt empty. False.
I sat down in my place, taking a glass of wine and turning it between my fingers as I tried to calm my mind. It didn't take long for her to approach, with that elegance that had fascinated me. But I could no longer look at her the same way.
"Are you okay?" she asked me, with genuine concern.
I placed the glass on the table with a controlled movement and raised my gaze to meet her eyes.
"There is no need to try so hard," I said, my voice as cold as the glass I was holding. " We are married on paper only, Xu Ai. You don't have to fake any kind of affection towards me."
I saw her take a step back, surprised. Before she could respond, I took the bottle of wine and filled my glass to the brim.
"From now on, you are Mrs. Chen. But that is all you will get from me."
The words came out of my mouth with surgical precision. I noticed that something in her broke, although she didn't let it show too much. I took a long sip from my glass and looked away. I couldn't bear her expression.
As the night progressed, her mother's words continued to resonate in my mind, each one fueling the pain and wounded pride that now dominated my heart.
Before getting into the car that would take us home, I noticed the ring on my finger. I turned it slowly, feeling how its weight transformed into a chain. As I sat next to Xu Ai, the silence between us was so heavy that I could barely breathe.
The lights of Shanghai flickered through the window, but for me, everything was covered in shadows. I closed my eyes and decided. "If this marriage is a game, then I will play too. But I am not going to be the one who loses.
CHAPTER 1
Shanghai, 2018
Silence was the soundtrack of my life. In the vastness of the house I shared with Chen Hao, every corner seemed to amplify that quiet, making it even heavier. I walked through the dining room, checking the final details of the table I had set with such care. The candles reflected a warm light that illuminated the white porcelain, everything arranged with the precision of someone looking to hold on to something, even if it is the illusion of a special night.
I spent hours cooking. The idea of preparing something special was the only thing that got me through the day. Choosing the ingredients, chopping the vegetables, seasoning with care… Every step had been a distraction, an escape from the thoughts that inevitably hit me when I was alone, which was almost always. My mind worked in silence, weaving scenarios where his gaze would rest on me with something more than courtesy.
As I adjusted a napkin, my eyes fell on the wall clock. It read at half past nine at night. I had served dinner at eight, convinced that Chen Hao would arrive on time. I hadn't seen him all day, but I clung to the hope that this time, at least for one night, things would be different.
"Almost a year," I thought, letting out a sigh that echoed in the empty dining room. Eleven and a half months had passed since we got married, and although in public our marriage seemed perfect, in the privacy of our home it was nothing more than a facade. Chen Hao was affectionate and attentive when we were surrounded by people, but in private his attitude changed drastically. And I... I was trapped in that contrast.
I clearly remembered the first night of our marriage. It was everything I had dreamed of and more. The warmth of his touch, the intensity in which he looked at me… For a moment, I believed that the love I felt for him would be reciprocated. But at dawn, I woke up alone in bed. Hao had left without saying a word, and when I looked for him, I discovered that he had set up his things in one of the rooms in the east wing of the house.
Since then, the nights had been lonely. We only crossed paths during occasional moments, and those interactions were brief and superficial, laden with silences that spoke louder than any words. I tried to understand him, to justify his behavior as a barrier that he had created to protect himself from something that I could not understand. But with each passing day, my hope weakened a little more, like a candle burning out in a room without ventilation.
The worst part was the silence during the two months he was away on business. He didn't even let me know before he left. Not a call, not a message to tell me that he would be out of the country. It was in the news that I saw him for the first time, at an event in London, surrounded by businessmen and socialites. Despite the physical distance, his coldness continued to remind me how far he was from me, even when we shared the same roof.
The clock struck ten, and I finally decided to sit at the table. I served myself some soup, although my appetite had disappeared hours ago. I took a couple of bites, but the knot in my stomach made any attempt to eat impossible.
I stared at the empty place, the seat where I had hoped to see him. A part of me knew that his absence was not a surprise, but that didn't make it hurt any less. "What am I doing wrong?" I wondered, feeling how sadness began to invade me. I entered this marriage with the hope of building something real, but with each passing day, I felt that he kept me at an unbeatable distance.
Finally, I collected the dishes and took them to the kitchen. As I washed the utensils, the tears that I had been holding back began to slide down my cheeks. I dried each one carefully, as if that task could distract me from the loneliness I felt, but the emptiness inside me was not filled.
When I finished, I turned off the lights and went up to my bedroom. The hallway that led to my room seemed endless; a reflection of the emotional distance I perceived between us. Upon entering, I closed the door behind me and fell onto the bed, exhausted not only physically but also emotionally.
I looked at the ceiling, letting the thoughts overwhelm me. I remembered the moments when I believed that my love would be enough, the nights when I dreamed of a future together, with the hope that one day Hao would allow me to enter his heart. But that night, like so many others, I realized that I was fighting alone.
I turned to one side and hugged one of the pillows, seeking comfort in the softness of the fabric. "I'm not going to give up," I promised myself, although my own inner voice sounded weaker than ever. "No matter how long it takes, I'm going to win his love."
With that thought, I closed my eyes, letting exhaustion overcome me. But even in my dreams, the shadow of my loneliness seemed to accompany me.
*****
Night had fallen, enveloping the city in a silence broken only by the distant sound of cars. I turned off the engine in front of the house and remained motionless, my hands firm on the steering wheel, staring at the massive wooden door. It was like a constant reminder of everything I was trying to avoid and couldn't ignore.
I took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs, hoping to calm the tension accumulated in my shoulders. But it was useless. Each breath seemed to add more weight instead of relieving it. Finally, with a brusque movement, I grabbed my briefcase from the passenger seat and opened the car door. I got out, slamming it shut with an echo that broke the calm of the neighborhood. I walked towards the entrance with firm steps, keeping my gaze fixed on the ground, as if avoiding looking at the house could lessen the weight of my thoughts.
I pushed the door open and was greeted by the usual darkness. Despite its immensity, the house always seemed empty, devoid of life. There were no lights on to guide me, nor sounds to suggest that someone was waiting for me. I closed the door behind me, leaving the briefcase on the sofa in the lobby without paying attention to its destination.
My steps led me to the liquor cabinet. I took a crystal glass and filled it with whiskey, watching the amber liquid swirl at the bottom. I took a sip before heading to the kitchen, a place I rarely visited, but which tonight called to me with an involuntary curiosity. The faint smell of spices and home-cooked food still lingered in the air. Upon entering, my gaze fell on the sink. The freshly washed and carefully stacked dishes were a silent reminder of Xu Ai's constant efforts, always present in a way I didn't ask for.
I gritted my teeth, feeling my mood darken. It was always the same. She acted as if we were a real marriage, as if there was something between us beyond an empty agreement. I walked towards the counter and found a plate covered with clear plastic wrap. I uncovered it and saw a stew that still kept some warmth. "She keeps trying," I thought with a mixture of bitterness and something I didn't want to admit.
In one gulp, I emptied the glass and left it with a dry thud on the counter. "What will it take for her to realize that this has no future?" I asked myself as frustration grew inside me. I had signed the divorce agreement the same night of the wedding, in front of her, making it clear that I didn't want this marriage. But Xu Ai, with that naive smile and those bright eyes, had thought I was joking. Maybe even that she could change me.
The memory made me even angrier. I had sealed my fate that night by letting myself be carried away by emotions that I had sworn to ignore, consummating a marriage that I did not want. And at dawn, unable to face the contradictions in my mind, I left for another room. Since then, I had done everything possible to keep distance, showing with every gesture that there was no place for her in my life.
I went up the stairs with firm steps, leaving behind the dim light of the first floor. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon that filtered through the windows of the hallway. My eyes stopped at the door of her bedroom.
I should have ignored it. I should have continued to my room as I always did. But my feet seemed to have other plans. I walked towards the door and opened it carefully, peering inside.
There was Xu Ai, asleep in the center of the bed, hugging a pillow. Her face, relaxed in sleep, radiated a peace that disconcerted me. For an instant, I felt something warm in my chest. It was the woman I had admired since high school, the same one who now laid so close and so far at the same time.
But that warmth quickly disappeared, replaced by a wave of anger. I hated her. I hated how her mere presence affected me, how her constant resistance made my walls falter. This should be easy. She should be tired of my cold treatment and leave. But no. Xu Ai was still there, like a persistent shadow that I couldn't erase.
Without closing the door so as not to wake her, I turned around and walked towards my own room. Once inside, I got rid of the suit, letting it fall on the back of a chair. I entered the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting the hot water hit my skin forcefully. I closed my eyes, hoping that the heat would dissipate some of the weight I carried. But no matter how hard I tried, her image remained, clearer and clearer.
When I finished, with a towel around my waist, I looked at the bed. A large bed, immaculately made, but as empty as everything else in my life. I let out a sigh, making the echo fill the room.
"One year," I thought, dropping the towel and putting on my pajamas. Soon it would be a year since I slept alone, surrounded by a coldness that seemed to consume me little by little.
I fell onto the bed, the mattress giving way under my weight. I turned on my phone to set the alarm, making sure it would ring before six. I closed my eyes, desperately seeking some rest. But, like every night, my thoughts didn't leave me at peace.
"When will you give up, Xu Ai?" I thought, as sleep finally claimed me, although I knew that I would not find the answer there either.
CHAPTER 2
The black car came to a smooth stop in front of the Chen's imposing mansion. From my seat, I watched as the lamplights highlighted the majestic design of the main entrance, with its white columns and impeccably manicured garden. No matter how many times I had been here, that house always evoked in me a mixture of awe and oppression.
Hao got out first, as he always did when we were in public, and walked around the vehicle to open my door. He extended his hand towards me with that impeccable gesture that characterized him, as calculated as his suit. I looked at his fingers, firm and secure, before accepting his help.
"Thank you," I murmured, trying to keep my voice neutral.
The contact with his skin caused a surge of emotions that I struggled to conceal. I didn't know how, but even the slightest touch of Hao had the ability to disarm me. However, he didn't seem to notice; his attention was fixed at the entrance of the mansion, his face as impassive as ever.
We walked together towards the main door, our steps perfectly synchronized. From the outside, we must have seemed like a perfect couple: his impeccable bearing and my pale blue qipao complemented each other with deceptive harmony. However, each step reminded me of the emotional distance that separated us, one that seemed to grow with time.
The door opened before we could knock, and Hao's mother appeared on the threshold, dressed in an elegant cheongsam in pastel tones. Her warm smile took me by surprise, but what threw me off was the intensity in which she looked at me.
"Ai, dear, it's so good to see you," she said, extending her hands towards me.
For an instant, I felt my breath catch. Although I had been there several times, her enthusiasm disconcerted me. I was still not used to being received with such familiarity.
"Thank you, Mrs. Chen," I replied with a slight nod, striving to sound grateful.
Hao's father appeared behind her, with a more reserved but equally cordial expression. His greeting was a simple nod, but his eyes conveyed something more: a silent approval that I didn't expect to receive so soon.
"Come in, dinner is ready," he said in his firm tone, gesturing towards the dining room.
I entered, following Hao, and as always, I was impressed by the elegance that permeated every corner of the house. The walls were decorated with a mix of traditional and modern art, a reflection of the Chen's wealth and legacy. We passed through a hallway where family photographs hung, images frozen in time that showed moments of joy and pride. I stopped for a second in front of one of them: Hao, still a child, held a tennis trophy while smiling enthusiastically. That warmth in his expression was so different from the man beside me that I found it difficult to reconcile both images.
"It's one of my favorites," Hao's mother commented, approaching to see the photo with me. "He was so happy in those days."
"It's a beautiful photo," I replied with an educated smile, although inside I felt like an intruder, someone who didn't belong in that world.
When we arrived at the dining room, the table was impeccably set. Porcelain tableware, crystal glasses, and a golden chandelier bathed everything in a soft light. I sat next to Hao, automatically adjusting my posture, a habit acquired during months of forced perfection. The conversation began with light comments: Hao's mother asked about my daily activities, while her father directed his questions towards Hao and the state of the family business. Although both seemed genuinely interested, I couldn't help but feel that every word I uttered should be carefully measured.
I tried to ignore the discomfort that grew in my chest, but it was impossible. Every gesture, every look, felt like a carefully rehearsed performance. As dinner progressed, my gaze drifted again towards the photographs on the wall, as if searching for answers among those frozen smiles. "Will I ever be a part of this?" I wondered, feeling how sadness settled inside me.
Suddenly, I noticed Hao's gaze on me. His dark eyes were watching me with a mixture that I couldn't decipher. Before I could say anything, a servant appeared at the door to announce that tea was served in the lounge.
We got up and, as upon arrival, Hao extended his hand towards me. I hesitated for an instant before accepting his gesture, but this time I felt something different. His touch, although firm, seemed to hold a softness that I didn't expect. We walked towards the lounge, surrounded by the warmth of the environment, but inside, the pressure of keeping that perfect facade began to exhaust my strength.
*****
The lounge was a space I had known all my life. Its decoration, a mix of modernity and tradition, perfectly reflected my parents' philosophy: honoring the past while moving towards the future. The low dark wood table held a fine porcelain tea set that my mother had inherited from my grandmother, and the walls were adorned with landscape paintings that had always seemed too solemn to me. It was a familiar place, but at that moment, I felt like I belonged to a world I no longer fit into.
Xu Ai was sitting next to me, her posture as impeccable as ever. The qipao she wore highlighted her natural elegance, but I knew that behind that perfect image there was a tension that I could only perceive because I knew her too well. My parents were in front of us, my mother with a warm smile and my father with his usual composure, both standing for the same facade of perfection that I had learned to emulate since childhood.
My mother poured the tea with calculated movements, each gesture imbued with a delicacy that I always admired in her. She extended one of the small cups towards Ai with a maternal expression.
"Ai, dear, I've heard that you've been very busy helping Hao keep everything in order at home," she commented as she handed her the cup.
She accepted the cup with both hands, as etiquette dictated, and responded with a smile that would have convinced anyone but me.
"Yes, I do what I can. It's an honor to be part of this family and support my husband," she said, with a perfectly modulated voice.
Her words, although impeccable, sounded empty to my ears. I saw the slight tremor in her hands as she held the cup, and although no one else seemed to notice, it was impossible for me to ignore it. I extended my hand towards hers and covered it with mine in a gesture that, for my parents, surely seemed protective. But when our skin touched, I felt her tense slightly, as if my touch caused her an injury.
"Ai is very diligent," I said in a soft but firm tone, breaking the silence.
I knew that those words reinforced our image of an ideal marriage, but I also knew that, for her, they meant nothing. The conversation continued between my parents and Ai, revolving around trivial topics and polite questions that we all knew had no purpose beyond filling the silence. At times, I looked at Ai, searching her face for any sign of what she really felt, but her ability to hide her emotions was as impeccable as her posture.
When the tea was finished, my parents went with us to the door to say goodbye. My mother hugged Ai warmly, and although she returned the gesture, I could notice that her body remained rigid. It was something that only someone who knew her as well as I could notice.
I helped her into the car, holding her hand as she settled into the seat. For a moment, our eyes met, but she quickly looked away towards the window. I sat next to her and closed the door, letting the silence fill the space between us.
"I have to go back to the company," I said.
She didn't respond, but I could see out of the corner of my eye how her posture became even more rigid. Her gaze remained fixed on the rapidly passing landscape, and her silence was more eloquent than any word.
I stopped the car in front of our house, and before I could move, Ai opened the door and got out with quick steps. I watched her as she walked towards the entrance, her figure disappearing into the dim light of the mansion. I stayed seated for a moment, my hand resting on the steering wheel, processing what had just happened.
The evening had gone perfectly according to my family's standards. But I knew it was just a facade, a carefully constructed lie that we both kept with painful precision.
I turned on the engine and headed towards the office. Although it was already late, I preferred to lose myself in work rather than face the emptiness of our house. As I drove, my thoughts returned to Ai. I remembered how she had held the teacup, how she had eaten the zucchini without protesting, despite knowing that she detested it. Her ability to play the role of the perfect wife was admirable, but I knew that behind that facade there was a sadness that I could not ignore.
I arrived at the building and turned off the engine, staying seated in the dark. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the feeling of oppression in my chest. For a moment, I allowed myself to wonder how much longer we could continue like this. We both knew that we could not keep this lie forever, but I had no idea how to break the cycle.
CHAPTER 3
The message arrived early that morning, as dry and direct as a command. I swiped my finger across my phone screen to open the notification:
"Tonight, gala at the Ritz-Carlton at 7:00 PM. Wear something appropriate."
There was no greeting or farewell. Just instructions, as if I were just another subordinate of the vast Tianlong Group staff and not his wife. I dropped the phone on the table with a sigh, trying to ignore the emptiness that grew in my chest.
I headed to the room I had claimed as my personal sanctuary, far from the indifference that permeated every corner of the house. That space, set apart from the rest, had become my only haven of peace. Among the fabrics of different textures and colors piled in a corner and the sketches that filled the table, I could lose myself in a world where my thoughts didn't weigh so heavily.
In front of the mannequin that held an unfinished black dress, I adjusted the seam with nimble fingers. I had designed it weeks ago, thinking of a special occasion that never came. Now, that dress would be my shield.
"Something appropriate," I thought, recalling the words of the message. A pang of pride ran through me as I thought that he had no idea that all the dresses I wore at those events were created by me. It wasn't just a matter of design; each stitch was a small declaration of independence in a life where everything else seemed out of my control.
As I sewed the final details, my mind wandered to previous galas. They were always the same: an impeccable entrance, superficial comments, empty smiles. My role was clear, and fulfilling it meant keeping the image of a perfect marriage that we both knew didn't exist. But lately, the price of that performance seemed higher.
When I finished, I tried on the dress in front of the mirror. The black silk fell softly, fitting my body perfectly, highlighting my figure without being ostentatious. I saw my reflection for a moment, remembering how I dreamed of designing for women who wanted to feel beautiful and confident. Now, that dream seemed as distant as the possibility of having a real marriage.
At 6:30 PM, I went down to the living room wearing the newly finished dress, my hair pulled back in a low bun and a pair of discreet earrings. Hao was by the door, his eyes fixed on his phone. When he looked up and saw me descending the stairs, his eyes lingered on me for an instant longer than usual.
"You're ready," he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion.
I nodded, accustomed to his indifference. I followed him to the car, where, as was his custom in public, he opened the door for me, offering his hand.
The drive to the Ritz-Carlton was silent. He was absorbed in his phone while I looked out the window, watching the lights that danced on the car windows. In my mind, I rehearsed how I should behave that night, how I should keep the smile, even though every word I heard hurt me a little more.
When we arrived at the hotel, Chen got out first, walked around the car, and opened my door. His gestures were impeccable, as rehearsed as the smiles that I had to offer. He took my hand and helped me down, as if he really cared about me.
The lights and flashes greeted us at the entrance. Journalists and photographers captured every movement, while the names of the most prominent guests were announced. I knew that my dress would attract attention, but that didn't give me satisfaction. My talent stayed a secret that no one seemed to notice, and that included my husband.
"Mr. and Mrs. Chen," someone announced as we entered the main hall.
The place was dazzling. The chandeliers shone like stars, the tables were adorned with centerpieces of exotic flowers, and the sound of classical music filled the air. Everything seemed designed to impress, but for me, it was just another scene in the play I had to perform.
Hao took my hand again and led me towards a group of men who were chatting animatedly. I kept my smile as he introduced me as his wife, listening to the compliments about my beauty and elegance.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Chen is very lucky to have someone like you by his side," one of the men said, bowing slightly.
"The pleasure is mine," I replied courteously.
But inside me, something broke with every word. I knew that they saw me as an extension of Hao, a decorative woman whose only purpose was to enhance his image.
After a few minutes, Chen excused himself to talk business with his partners, leaving me alone by a table. I watched him walk away, feeling the emptiness he left in his wake.
I took a glass of wine from a nearby tray and headed towards a less crowded corner of the room. From there, I could see the guests moving gracefully, like pieces on a chessboard. My eyes stopped on him. He was chatting animatedly with another group of men, his smile perfect, his posture relaxed.
For an instant, I remembered how I admired him in high school. He had been so self-confident, so charismatic. But now, that same confidence seemed like a barrier that kept me far from him.
"Ai, dear, it's always a pleasure to see you at these events," a voice said behind me, pulling me from my thoughts.
I turned and gave a smile to Mrs. Zhang, an acquaintance of the Chen family who always found a way to make me feel inferior.
"Thank you, Mrs. Zhang."
"That dress is stunning. Where did you buy it?" she asked, her eyes scanning every detail of the design.
I hesitated for a moment before answering:
"It's something I found a while ago."
It was easier to lie than to explain its true origin.
When I was finally alone, I let out a sigh and retreated to a more secluded corner of the room. There, away from prying eyes, I allowed my facade to crack for a moment. I looked at my dress, touching the fabric I had chosen so carefully, and wondered how much longer I could keep up the lie.
****
The message I sent Ai that morning was brief and direct, like all the ones we exchanged. I didn't feel the need to embellish my words; we both knew what was expected of us. While checking emails from my office, I thought about the gala that night. It was a key event to strengthen relationships with some important partners of the Tianlong Group, and she, with her impeccable bearing, was always an asset in these types of situations.
However, something inside me churned at the thought of our role that night. I knew she hated me, although she never said it out loud. I saw it in the rigidity of her shoulders when we were together, in the way her smiles seemed rehearsed.
The afternoon passed quickly, and before I knew it, the clock struck 5:30 PM. I turned off the computer and headed home to get ready. Upon arriving, I automatically reviewed the details of the event, but my mind drifted to her. What would she be doing at that moment?
When she came downstairs, I looked up. My breath caught for an instant. She was wearing a black dress that fell like a river of silk, perfectly molding to her figure. There was something in her bearing, in the way her eyes avoided mine, that disarmed me.
"You're ready," I said, breaking the silence.
It was the only thing I could allow myself to say. I couldn't admit what I really thought, nor the effect that seeing her like that had on me. I had spent too long burying those emotions to reveal them now.
The drive to the Ritz-Carlton was silent, as always. I pretended to check emails on my phone, but my mind was busy rehearsing the moves of the night. I knew exactly who I should greet first and how I should handle the conversations. Everything was planned, except for the discomfort that grew inside me as I was by her side.
When we arrived at the hotel, I got out first and walked around the car to open the door for her. It was a gesture that I had repeated so many times that it should feel automatic, but this time, when I felt her fingers brush against mine, a strange current ran through my body.
Flashes and glances greeted us as we entered the hall. I walked with her by my side, aware of how everyone's eyes were on us. I knew what they thought: we were the ideal couple. Powerful, elegant, untouchable. But behind that perfect image, I felt something crumble.
"Mr. and Mrs. Chen," someone announced, and I prepared for the performance.
Guiding her towards a group of partners, I introduced her with my usual calm and confidence. Everyone admired her, and I couldn't blame them. Ai was the perfect complement to me, even if the distance between us was becoming more and more evident.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. Mr. Chen is very lucky to have you by his side," one of the men said, shaking her hand.
I smiled, but didn't say anything. The man's words resonated in my mind with bitter irony. Luck? If only they knew what was really happening between us.
After a while, I excused myself to talk to other partners. I left her by a table, but as I walked away, I couldn't help but glance at her sideways. I saw her take a glass of wine and look around, as if searching for an exit. There was something in her posture, in the way she held the glass with tense fingers, that stirred a pang of guilt in me.
While I was talking to my partners, my eyes kept returning to her. Xu Ai was an enigma, a woman who seemed so strong and so vulnerable at the same time. There were moments when I wanted to approach her, to tell her that it didn't have to be like this. But every time I thought about it, I remembered that conversation that had poisoned everything from the beginning.
"She only wants the power that this marriage gives her," I repeated to myself, tightening my lips slightly as I pretended to listen to one of the partners.
From a distance, I saw Mrs. Zhang approach her. I recognized the sharp smile and the woman's poisonous tongue instantly. I watched their brief interaction, and although I couldn't hear what they were saying, I saw the slight tremor in Xu Ai's lips when the woman walked away.
For an instant, I felt the urge to go to her, to ask her what had happened. But I stopped myself. "It's not my problem," I told myself, turning my attention back to the conversation in front of me.
However, my thoughts didn't leave me in peace. From my position, I saw Xu Ai retreat to a more secluded corner of the room. It was a scene I had seen so many times before, but this time something inside me rebelled.
"Why do you keep putting up with this?" I asked myself, not knowing if the question was directed at her or myself.
When the gala came to an end, I returned to my role. I walked towards her and offered my hand to help her up. Ai accepted, with the same distant smile that she had kept all night.
The drive back home was as silent as the drive there. I leaned back in the seat, watching the city lights pass by the window. I wanted to say something, anything, but the words seemed stuck in my throat.
When the car stopped in front of the mansion, she got out before the driver could open the door for her. Her quick steps echoed in the night as she disappeared under the porch lights. I stayed in the back seat, drumming my fingers against the armrest with a feeling that I couldn't control.
"Mr. Chen, shall I come back tomorrow at the same time?" the driver asked.
I stayed silent for an instant, looking towards the closed door of the house as if I expected to see her reappear. But, of course, she didn't.
"Take me to the office," I finally ordered, in a dry tone that left no room for discussion.
The car started gliding through the streets of Shanghai. I rested my head against the back of the seat, letting the city lights flicker in my eyes. It was curious how even the busiest avenues could seem empty when my mind was trapped in the same image: Xu Ai, sitting alone in a corner of the room, with sadness clearly drawn on her eyes.