Chapter 3 Behind The Mask Of The Prefect Husband

The morning sunlight slipped through the white curtains of the grand bedroom. Anne had been awake since dawn. She stood before the large mirror, wearing an elegant deep blue gown. Her face looked beautiful with light makeup, but her eyes carried a weariness that no cosmetic could hide.

Clara stood beside her, adjusting the back of Anne's dress. "You look absolutely beautiful this morning, as always, Ma'am," she said softly.

Anne gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Clara. There's a Harlan family event today. I have to show up as the perfect wife for Leo, at least in front of everyone."

Clara lowered her head respectfully. "As always, you'll look stunning. But, will Mr. Leo be joining you, Ma'am?"

Anne shook her head gently. "He didn't say anything last night. I don't think he'll come. Just like always and he won't care anyway."

Clara fell silent. She knew that every time Anne attended official events alone, it tore her heart apart. But Anne was too strong to let the world know that anything was wrong.

In another room, Leo sat in his study, wearing a gray suit. His hair was neatly combed. Across from him, a middle-aged man with a stern face sat upright. It was Mr. Harlan, his father.

"You must attend today's family gathering," Mr. Harlan said firmly. "The media will be there. Don't create another scandal, Leo."

Leo sighed deeply. "I'm busy. There's a lot of work to handle."

"Your work won't save your reputation if your marriage collapses in public. It's been three years, and still no sign of a child? What are you even doing with your wife? Are one of you infertile?"

Leo stared sharply at his father. "I don't love her. You knew that from the start when this marriage was forced on me. Don't twist the truth, Dad."

Mr. Harlan slammed his hand on the table. "You think love matters in business?! You have responsibilities! I won't let the Harlan name be disgraced by your weakness! Love can come later. You should thank me for marrying you to an honorable, beautiful woman!"

Leo clenched his fists, trying to control his emotions. "And if I still can't give her a child, then what?"

Mr. Harlan leaned forward. "Then I'll find someone who can. I don't care who. What matters is an heir. It won't stop with you."

Leo fell silent. He wasn't stupid, he knew his father would go through with it, even something crazier than this.

That afternoon, Anne stood in the center of a grand ballroom at a five-star hotel, where the Harlan family event was held. Flashing cameras from reporters and guests surrounded her. She smiled, spoke politely, and played her role as "Mrs. Harlan" with graceful charm.

"Mrs. Anne, your husband isn't attending?" asked one of the relatives who approached her.

Anne nodded calmly. "Leo had an urgent office matter, but he sends his regards to everyone."

Her smile remained, but behind it, her heart screamed in pain.

Clara, who stood beside her, gently squeezed Anne's hand. "Ma'am, you're not alone. I'm here, it's okay," she whispered.

Anne only nodded slightly, then continued greeting other guests, as if everything was fine, still with that faint smile.

Meanwhile, Leo stood on the balcony of his penthouse apartment, staring at the clear sky. His hand still held a cup of coffee that had gone cold. His father's words echoed in his mind.

"If you can't give her a child, I'll find someone who can."

He glanced back into the room, toward a bookshelf where a small wedding photo frame was placed.

A photo of him and Anne on their wedding day. He could hardly remember why he even smiled in that picture. Maybe it was all forced.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed. A message from Clara.

Clara: "Sorry to disturb you, Sir. Mrs. Anne is still at the event, surrounded by the media. They're asking why you're absent. What should I say, Sir?

Leo let out a heavy sigh. He knew Anne was probably struggling in the spotlight, on her own.

That night, Anne arrived home with tired steps. She removed her shoes at the door, then walked toward the living room.

The house felt empty. She sat on the couch and closed her eyes for a moment.

Not long after, Leo arrived. His voice came from the front door. "Anne?"

Anne opened her eyes and looked toward the entrance. "You're home."

Leo glanced at her. "Did you eat?"

That question stunned Anne for a moment-not because she was hungry, but because it had been so long since Leo asked something so simple.

"I ate earlier at the event," she answered quietly.

Leo nodded. "How was it?"

Anne stood and walked slowly toward him. "As usual. Pretending to be the perfect couple. I smiled for you, Leo. Even though you weren't there."

Leo didn't respond. Anne looked into his eyes.

"Your father was angry you didn't attend. I calmed them all down to protect the family name. I covered every gap that could bring you down. And do you know why?"

Leo looked away for a moment but listened.

"Because I still care about you, Leo. Even though you act like I don't exist."

Leo exhaled and turned his back. "Don't expect too much from me, Anne."

Anne took a deep breath. "I don't expect anymore, Leo. But I'm tired of being just a shadow in your life."

Leo began to walk toward the stairs, then paused. "I'm going to the office early tomorrow."

"And at night?"

He paused. "I don't know."

Anne nodded. "As usual, I know without you needing to say it."

In the bedroom, Anne stood in front of the mirror. Her gown was now back in the closet. Her face was bare, only exhaustion and swollen eyes remained.

Clara entered, carrying a glass of warm water.

"Thank you, Clara," Anne said.

Clara sat on the edge of the bed. "I heard everything earlier, Ma'am. You're incredibly strong."

Anne shook her head. "I'm not strong, Clara. I'm just surviving."

Clara looked at her with watery eyes. "If one day you choose to leave. I'll come with you."

Anne smiled, then hugged Clara. "Thank you. You're the only family I have left."

Meanwhile, Leo sat in his study. He opened his laptop but couldn't concentrate. He picked up his phone, opened the photo gallery, and stared at a picture of Anne taken secretly when she laughed with Clara in the back garden.

He slowly scrolled through the gallery, then looked at himself in the small mirror beside the desk.

"Why do you feel so empty when you're the one who created the emptiness yourself?"

He closed his eyes. For the first time, doubt crept into his heart.