Chapter 2

Harrison and I had a business marriage.

I was my uncle's puppet; he was his mother's tool.

My marriage was used to save a family business on the brink of bankruptcy, while his was used to secure an inheritance.

He was my only option at the time.

I wasn't his first choice, but he chose me.

He said that among everyone, he'd spotted me at once—beautiful, resilient, with personality.

Neither of us disappointed the other later on.

He helped me take back the shares that were rightfully mine from my uncle, and I stood by him as he rose above all his father's unacknowledged sons, earning his father's trust to hand over the family legacy.

Harrison's love was never stingy.

Before we married, he spent a fortune on me. After we married, he spent even more.

Maybe because his background wasn't recognized, he'd grown up poor. But he was extraordinarily generous with me.

I thought that was love—that I'd easily gotten what he begrudged others.

I thought I'd touched his true heart. But then, one ordinary afternoon, while I was playing golf with his client, he walked into the adjacent fairway with a young, pretty girl.

I thought he'd avoid me. Instead, he put his arm around her and came over. He introduced me as his wife.

The girl said breezily, "So you're Mrs. Vane. You're so lucky. Harrison is excellent in every way."

The innuendo made me uncomfortable.

When he came home that night, he reeked of that cheap perfume—from the girl.

I looked up at him, waiting for an explanation. I thought that even if he said it was a moment of weakness, I would have forgiven him.

High society is full of restraints. Just being able to lean on each other was rare enough; we didn't need to sweat the details.

But instead he said, "We're a business marriage, right? You know how it is. We just need to keep up appearances. If you need to have some fun on the side, I don't mind."

He almost broke my heart. Soon after, I couldn't find a better solution.

But I understood: the heart I'd given him was something I had to take back.

Still, feelings aren't like a faucet; you can't just turn them on and off.

I drifted in that emotional whirlpool for a long time, wasting years.

That night, Harrison didn't come home. Late, I got a call from him. On the other end came the girl's moans and Harrison's teasing.

She asked him, "Who's better, me or your wife?"

Harrison laughed. "Comparing yourself to my wife? That's a bit much. My wife is the queen of the social circle—everyone who sees her praises her beauty. If her parents hadn't died young, you wouldn't even be fit to share a man with her."

The girl pretended to be upset: "Then get off me and go back to your socialite queen."

Harrison soothed her at once: "Queen or not, even a queen gets boring after a while. No one's as alluring as you."

The call lasted forty minutes, ending only when the girl couldn't take any more and hung up.

As for me, I'd fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of it.