The night I had planned to propose, I stumbled upon a marriage certificate hidden in her closet.

I stood frozen, my eyes fixated on the photo of the two of them, smiling as if the world could do no wrong. The image hit me like a sledgehammer, a sudden shock that made my chest tighten with pain.

Just then, Eleanor Miller’s voice pierced through the silence, sharp with irritation. "Where did you disappear to? You slipped out the moment the party started."

"Maverick covered for me. He drank so much he’s sick now."

Her tone softened at the mention of Maverick, a flicker of concern slipping through.

I let out a bitter laugh. "Isn’t that his job?”

After all, he was your real husband.

Before she could respond, another call lit up my screen. Relieved to have an excuse to end the conversation, I answered without hesitation.

I took a steady breath, my voice calm but resolute. "I accept your proposal. Let’s go tomorrow and get our marriage certificate."

***

Part 1

It was nearly dawn when Eleanor finally stumbled home, her fists pounding on the door in an angry rhythm, echoing through the quiet.

She gave the door a few more kicks as if the sound alone could summon me to her side.

I knew her act too well; she wanted me to notice, to come running and to soothe her frustrations.

But instead of preparing her usual hangover soup or hurrying to let her in, I stayed where I was, unmoved.

When I didn’t open the door, she finally huffed in irritation, digging out her key and letting herself in. Her gaze swept over the room, landing on the empty bottle on the coffee table. Her expression darkened, a scowl tightening her features.

“Isaac, what’s this?” she snapped. “You skipped out on drinks at the dinner table just to come home and drink alone?”

“Do you even realize how many drinks Maverick had to take for me tonight?”

I remained seated on the sofa, unflinching, a bitter smile tugging at my lips.

Tonight, I’d let everyone know at the gathering what I was planning to propose. No one would’ve given Eleanor a hard time; they were just keeping her occupied. I’d left the dinner early to prepare the proposal set up, hoping to surprise her tonight.

Thinking I needed something more formal, I reached for a suit in the closet. But instead, my fingers brushed against a document, a marriage certificate with Eleanor’s name on it, dated just two days prior.

Without a word, I tossed it at her, my voice like ice. “Explain this.”

Just moments earlier, Eleanor had been all smug and self-assured, but now she deflated, a flicker of panic betraying her calm.

“It’s not what you think,” she stumbled over her words. “I… I lost a game of Truth or Dare that night.”

“I picked Dare and the dare was to get a marriage certificate with Maverick.”

The flimsy excuse seemed to restore her confidence. She quickly turned defensive, her tone shifting as she accused, “But what about you? What right do you have to go through my things?”

“This is my home,” I replied.

Sometimes, a broken heart wasn’t more than a fleeting revelation. With Eleanor’s cold words, the last trace of warmth in my heart faded away.

For a moment, I stood stunned, then forced a weary smile. “You’re right. I’ve only myself to blame.”

The moment I saw that marriage certificate, I should’ve walked away. What was I still clinging to?

When we first decided to live together, I already knew Eleanor’s strong-willed nature. I didn’t want to overwhelm her by revealing my true identity, so I kept it hidden, claiming I was just renting an apartment.

Eleanor’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she invited me to stay at her place, saying, “Isaac, from now on, this will be our home.”

Those words made me choose this place, staying in her modest eighty-square-meter apartment rather than my own spacious home. Three years passed and I stayed for her.

This was the first place Eleanor bought with her own earnings from acting. She once told me, “This place may be small, but I poured my heart into making it mine.”

“I’m going to live here to keep myself grounded, to remember my purpose, to become the best actress I can be.”

Back then, her ambition stirred something in me. I was so moved by Eleanor’s drive that I reshuffled my entire roster, reassigning some of my best talents to other managers just so I could focus solely on her. It felt fair to show her that level of dedication, especially since she was the woman I loved.

But now, her actions felt like a slap across the face. She couldn’t see that I was disillusioned; she actually believed I’d come to my senses.

Sitting beside me, Eleanor’s tone softened as if nothing had happened. “Isaac, I’ll divorce Maverick in a few days. Let’s just pretend this never happened, alright?”

“You don’t understand how many drinks Maverick took for me tonight. Tomorrow, go apologize to him.”

“Then, let’s move on.”

She looked at me with hopeful eyes, oblivious to the chill seeping through me. I forced a bitter smile, one that barely reached my eyes.

I scoffed, “No.”

“I…” I was going to say I’d be out of her life by tomorrow.

But a shrill ringtone cut through the tension. I was close enough to hear Maverick’s voice, whining on the other end, “Eleanor, I’m not feeling well.”

“Will you come keep me company?”

Her tone softened instantly. “Wait for me; I’ll be there soon.”

“Be good until I get there, alright?”

She hung up, turning back to me with an impatient look. “Isaac, I don’t have time to argue. Maverick needs me and you need to reflect on how unreasonable you’ve been. Tomorrow, go apologize to him.”

I nodded numbly, but deep down, I knew the truth: I’d never forgive Eleanor. By morning, I’d be gone.

I spent a sleepless night on the sofa, watching dawn’s first light slip into the room like a reminder of the end. A bitter smile crept onto my lips; Eleanor hadn’t come back all night.

I rose, heading to the bathroom. After a shower, I slipped into the suit I’d planned to wear for the proposal. But the truth settled over me like a cold shroud: she’d already become someone else’s wife.

Staring at my reflection, a bitter scoff escaped my lips. How painfully ironic it all was.

I made up my mind to leave everything behind. Let her deal with it all. The sight of those things would only bring back memories I wasn’t ready to face. I wanted no part of it anymore.

Just as I turned to leave, the door creaked open; Eleanor had returned.

Her smile vanished the moment she saw me, replaced by a thin, hard line. Her face hardened as she spoke with clear irritation. “Dressed like that to apologize? Are you trying to provoke Maverick?”

For once, she spoke earnestly, her voice cutting through the air. “Isaac, if you’re going to apologize, at least make it look sincere.”

“Grey Forge? Maverick could never afford such a luxury. Did you wear this suit to humiliate him on purpose?”

“Is that it? Showing off what you have? Honestly, you make me sick.”

In the past, I would have apologized and gone to great lengths to comfort her. But now, the curtain had fallen. It was over.

I didn’t have the energy to waste another word on her. I moved toward the door, but she stepped in my way.

Her expression darkened further. “Are you going to apologize like this?”

I rubbed my throbbing temples, my voice steady as I responded, “Step aside. I’m going to register my marriage.”

A flash of unease flickered in Eleanor’s chest, a vague sense of dread creeping in before it swiftly morphed into anger.

She snapped, “Isaac, enough!”

“You’re just talking about marriage to get under my skin, aren’t you?”

I raised my hands in silent surrender, trying to show that I didn’t intend to provoke her.

But the sight of my unspoken gesture only fueled her fury. She was convinced I was doing it to spite her. “Fine,” she spat. “Go ahead, get married. And when you come back, bring me the certificate.”

I turned to leave, but her sharp voice followed me like a whip crack. “Isaac, if you walk out that door today, don’t bother coming back.”

She knew exactly which strings to pull. In the past, whenever we fought, she’d tell me to leave and I’d always give in.

I had forgiven her time and time again, knowing how hard she’d worked to make a name for herself, rising from nothing to where she was. I genuinely cared for her, so I’d always let things slide, even when I was fed up.

But now, the well of forgiveness had run dry.

I looked back at Eleanor one last time, my gaze full of quiet sorrow. I told myself I was done, but the pain still lingered like a dull ache.

For a brief moment, a glimmer of satisfaction danced across her face as if she thought I’d crumble and beg for her forgiveness like I always did.

This time, I turned away without a second glance, quickening my steps as I left without hesitation.

Behind the wheel of my Phaeton, I sped down the main road, my mind clouded by memories and a dull ache throbbed relentlessly in my temples.

My original dream had been to become an actor, but my family never fully supported it despite offering their financial backing.

As the youngest, I wasn’t expected to carry the family’s weight. They just wanted me to follow my heart, but they didn’t believe the entertainment industry was where I’d find success. They thought I didn’t have the right look to break through in a world so obsessed with appearances and sadly, they were right.

Though I had the acting chops, fame never came. My looks weren’t striking enough to grab the spotlight in an industry built on aesthetics. But I refused to fade into the background. I was determined to carve my path on my own terms. So, I shifted gears and decided to manage talent instead.

That decision turned out to be the right one. Armed with my acting experience, a sharp eye for scripts and a keen sense of market trends, I helped shape the careers of rising stars and quickly became a sought-after name in talent management.

When I first met Eleanor, she was just another unknown actress. She had a look, but something was missing an indefinable spark. What truly propelled her forward, though, was her relentless drive. It reminded me of myself and that’s what made me want to help her.

I signed her to my agency despite the murmurs of doubt from others in the industry. “Isaac’s made a mistake this time; she’s just dead weight.”

Eleanor overheard their whispers, her eyes welling up with tears as she gripped my hand. “I’ll show them that you made the right choice.”

I gently ruffled her hair, telling her there was no need to feel the weight of their judgment.

I stood by her through every audition, every rehearsal, every practice session. As the days passed, she grew to trust me and we fell deeper in love, each of us silently promising a future together.

As Eleanor’s career soared, so did our relationship. It grew stronger with each passing day, a foundation built on trust and shared dreams. I was ready to propose when I discovered she had already registered her marriage with Maverick.

I’d noticed the growing closeness between her and Maverick, but she assured me it was nothing more than a sibling-like bond born out of her concern for him. I never questioned her loyalty; I believed in us. I thought her growing distance was simply a product of the pressures of fame.