I obediently accepted his arrangement once again.

"You've always wanted to visit Ashford, haven't you? Once things settle down, I'll find time to take you there."

"We'll see."

I hung up the phone.

…

Hector and I met again two months later at the recording set.

My agent brought me, while Anne came with him.

Two cars approached from different directions, stopping at the same time as the doors opened.

He was in the middle of a meeting with an earpiece on, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, standing slightly to the side, his sharp features accentuated.

Anne wore a navy-blue belted trench coat, her long hair flowing in the wind as she stood quietly beside him.

I tilted my head, observing.

I had to admit, the two of them looked incredibly striking together.

My agent left me behind and walked over with a bright smile.

"Mr. Sinclair!"

"Ms. Lane!"

Anne merely nodded faintly, signaling not to disturb them, without even glancing in my direction.

Over there, the three of them stood together.

Over here, I silently unloaded my luggage.

Though the two cars weren’t far apart, it felt like an entire galaxy lay between them.

I pushed my suitcase inside.

The other two pairs of guests were already seated on the couch.

One couple were singers, while the other were ordinary participants.

I greeted them with a smile.

Through the massive floor-to-ceiling window, I could clearly see Anne bending down, carefully fastening Hector's suit buttons.

Her face was pressed against his lower body, her long hair lifted by the wind, tangled around her waist—a pose so suggestive it invited all sorts of thoughts.

The female participant was straightforward and blunt.

She pursed her lips before openly asking, "Are you getting a divorce because of her?"

I smiled. "No."

The four people in the room clearly didn’t believe me, exchanging subtle looks.

Hector walked in, surrounded by a group of staff members.

When Hector saw me, he came over and sat beside me, his expression faintly displeased.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

I picked up an orange from the table and peeled it. "I came in first to go through the process so the production team wouldn’t have to wait."

He turned his head slightly, looking at me with a trace of surprise in his eyes.

After all, whenever I was around him, I never missed an opportunity to stake my claim.

"In the first two rounds, you need to be firm in choosing divorce. Only in the final round, when you back out, should the shift happen," he reminded me in a low voice.

I nodded and popped a slice of orange into my mouth.

It was incredibly sweet.

My agent had crafted a storyline:

I wanted a divorce, but he didn’t.

To figure out my reasons and save our marriage, he joined the show.

After arguments and reconciliation, we’d have an honest conversation where I finally revealed that over the years, he had been too focused on work, leaving me feeling neglected.

He would sincerely apologize and promise to prioritize our family in the future.

In the end, with tears in my eyes, I’d admit that I still loved him and decide against the divorce.

A perfect happy ending.

Honestly, it sounded fake.

Seeing me frown, my agent smirked mockingly.

"What, are you planning to make it real?"

I once brought up the idea of changing agents, but Anne opposed it, citing her extensive connections and strong professional expertise.

Hector sided with her, telling me to put work first and not be impulsive.

Naturally, she disliked me.

And, of course, I didn’t like her either.

…

There was no filming on the first day, just pre-show interviews.

In the interview room, the couples made their first choice.

"I want a divorce."

I said the words calmly, facing the camera.

Beside me, Hector frowned.

"You need to show more emotion when you say it. That’s what will get people talking, stir up discussion, and drive the views."

"Otherwise, who’s going to believe you really want to divorce me? They’ll just think you’re acting again.

“Use your head. I can’t guide you every step of the way."

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but a deep sense of helplessness pressed down on me.

In the end, I said nothing.

For the past two years, I had been trapped in this feeling, as if there was an invisible net tightly wrapped around me.

I knew I had to break free, yet I could never muster the strength to do it.

When my own energy ran low, I needed something external to push me forward.

The director was a young guy, still untainted by the cynicism of the industry.

He reviewed the footage.

"The emotions came through well. As expected from a seasoned actor."

While Hector was doing his solo interview, I didn’t feel like listening and waited outside instead.

My phone rang.

It was Anne.

I was about to decline the call but hesitated for a moment before answering.

"He’ll be done with his interview soon. Just call him later."

"Mrs. Sinclair, I’m not looking for him. I’m looking for you."

"For me?"

"Yes. Mr. Sinclair has never been away from me for several days in a row, so I have a couple of things to remind you about."

Anne’s tone was soft and polite.

I glanced at the door just as Hector walked out, then put the call on speaker.

"Go ahead, Ms. Lane."

Her elegant voice carried through the hallway.

"First, Mr. Sinclair’s throat inflammation has been acting up. I put his medication in the inner pocket of his black bag. Make sure he doesn’t eat anything cold or spicy—it’ll irritate his throat.

“Second, he sometimes gets migraines at night. You’ll need to massage his temples for ten minutes to relieve it. If you’re not sure how, you can call me anytime.

"Mrs. Sinclair, did you get all that?"

Before I could respond, Hector snatched the phone from my hand and spoke coldly.

"Anne, who told you to call Suzy?"

Silence fell on the other end of the line.

I suddenly found it amusing, and the more I thought about it, the more I actually laughed.

Hector looked at me, his gaze assessing, tinged with confusion.

In the past, I would have thrown a fit—snapping at Anne in anger, crying to Hector, and making sure he knew how hurt I was.

But Anne was always composed, her explanations gentle and elegant, making me look like a complete lunatic.

"She meant well. You’re scaring her with that tone."

I took my phone back from his hand and hung up without hesitation before heading straight to the interview room.

Next was the joint interview.

As I pushed open the door, Hector was still standing by the window in the hallway, unmoving.

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke.

"You don’t mind?"

I turned to look at him.

"Mind what?"

A flicker of frustration crossed his otherwise composed expression.

"Nothing. Go in."

…

The director told us we could answer freely, and the production team would later edit out the usable parts.

"First question—what's the most touching thing your partner has done for you?"

Hector sat back casually, exuding his usual composed and refined public persona.

With a warm smile, he answered, "Marriage is about a lifetime together and mutual support. It’s built on countless small moments rather than a single grand gesture.

“If it relied on just one touching act, the foundation would be fragile and unstable. So, for me, there isn’t one most touching moment—just countless warm ones."

The director frowned slightly, then turned to me.

"What about you, Ms. Suzy? Do you feel the same?"

"I do."

I thought for a moment before answering, "When I was twenty-one, I was caught in a contract dispute that nearly ended my career.

“He stepped in, turned everything around, and paid a hefty settlement to get me out of it. That was the most touching thing he ever did for me."

The director nodded thoughtfully. "It seems Mr. Sinclair is the kind of man who helps without seeking credit."

Hector smiled lightly and waved it off. "Suzy is a talented actress. She was young and inexperienced when she ran into trouble. I had the means to help, so I did. It wasn’t a big deal."

"Second question—what do you think you’ve given each other over the years?"

The director turned to me. "Ms. Suzy, you go first this time."

I said nothing.

Silence stretched as I sat there, lost in thought.

Hector let out an easy laugh. "She’s slow to respond, so I’ll go first.

“To put it bluntly, what I’ve given Suzy is worth tens of millions. She doesn’t have a high level of education and started working at a young age, so she lacks certain insights and depth.

“I’m five years older than her, with more experience and a broader perspective. The mistakes I’ve made, she doesn’t have to.

“Whenever I have time, I guide her, offering advice so she can better understand the deeper aspects of life and the unspoken rules of society.

"Honestly, I envy her sometimes. If I had someone like that by my side at her age, I’d consider myself incredibly lucky."

The director fell silent for a few seconds before turning back to me. "Ms. Suzy?"

I answered calmly, "Nothing."

The director raised a brow, clearly skeptical.

"You’ve known each other for six years and been married for four, and you mean to say there’s nothing at all?"

"That’s right. There’s nothing," I repeated evenly.

Hector's brows furrowed slightly.

For a moment, the room was steeped in awkward silence.

The director glanced at me, then at him.

"Then let's move on to the third question. Over the past few years, what’s your biggest regret?"

Hector cleared his throat before answering slowly, "My biggest regret would be spending too much time and energy on work these past two years, leaving too little for Suzy."

He turned to me, his gaze soft and warm. "There’s no real conflict between us, no fundamental issue. The only problem is that I’ve been too busy.

“But I’ve realized that now, which is why I agreed to do this show.

“Suzy, don’t act on impulse. Whatever problems we have, we can work through them. We’re nowhere near the point of divorce."

I didn’t respond.

Staring straight into the camera, I spoke flatly, "If I had to name my biggest regret… it would be kneeling before him."

The director, cameraman, and lighting crew—every single one of them froze, eyes widening in shock.

Hector’s expression darkened instantly.

"Suzy, you’ve forgotten the golden rule: the more you say, the more mistakes you make," he said in a low voice.

"If you keep being this stubborn, there’s no point in continuing this show."

The director blinked rapidly before forcing a smile, trying to ease the tension.

"Let’s put that question on hold and move on to the last one, shall we?"

I let out the faintest sigh. "Fine."

In an instant, Hector’s expression returned to normal, composed and elegant as ever.

He smiled and nodded. "Please continue."

"Final question. I need both of you to answer at the same time—do you still love each other?"

The director’s sharp gaze landed on us.

"Of course, I do."

"I don’t."