CHAPTER 5
I carefully placed the candles on the cream cake, admiring the final result. Today marked one year since I married Chen Hao. I took a deep breath and looked around the dining room. The table was immaculate, covered with a white linen tablecloth and decorated with a centerpiece of yellow flowers from our garden. I had spent hours preparing every detail. I carefully cooked the dishes I remembered Hao liked, though I wasn't sure if he still did. I even took out the best crystal glasses.
From the reflection in the window, I saw myself. I was wearing a deep blue dress, simple but flattering. I hoped that, at least for tonight, I wouldn't go unnoticed. I wanted to look good for him.
"Maybe he won't say anything, maybe he won't do anything special," I thought as I adjusted a wave of hair over my shoulder. "But if he arrives and has dinner with me, it will be enough."
At seven o'clock, everything was ready. I sat on the sofa in the living room, my eyes fixed on the front door, and a mixture of anxiety and hope took hold of me. The seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into hours.
At eight o'clock, I checked my phone. There were no messages from Chen Hao. Time continued to pass, slow and cruel. At nine o'clock, the candles began to burn out. I got up to replace them, but my hands trembled as I lit the wick. I barely managed to light it, as if my own illusion was beginning to fade. At ten o'clock, the certainty of his absence became unbearable. I got up from the sofa with slow movements and walked towards the dining room.
The table, which hours earlier I had filled with hope, now seemed like an empty stage, almost mocking. I stood in front of it, looking at the untouched cake in the center. The candles flickered weakly, casting long shadows on the walls.
Without thinking too much, I began to clear the dishes. Each one ended up in the trash along with the food I had prepared so carefully. My movements were automatic, almost mechanical, but behind them was a mixture of sadness and anger that I didn't know how to express.
When I finished, I stopped in front of the cake. It was the only thing left on the table, untouched, like a silent witness to what I had planned for that night. For a moment, I thought about throwing it away too, but something inside me stopped me.
"Let him see it," I thought coldly. "Let him see what he didn't want to share with me."
I turned off the lights in the dining room, leaving the cake illuminated only by the candles that were still burning weakly. It was my way of protesting, of showing him that, although I couldn't say it out loud, his absence hurt me more than he could imagine.
I went upstairs with firm steps, each step accompanying a thought that was forming in my mind. "If he doesn't care about this marriage, then I'm not going to keep sacrificing myself," I repeated like a mantra.
When I reached my bedroom, I turned on the lamp on the nightstand and sat in front of the dressing table. I opened the second drawer and took out an invitation I had received days ago.
It was for an exclusive fashion show, organized by one of the most prestigious academies in Shanghai. I had considered rejecting it. The idea of being surrounded by designers who were living the dream I had abandoned for my marriage was too painful.
But now, holding the invitation in my hands, something inside me changed.
"I'm going to go," I decided with determination. For the first time in a long time, I felt a spark of excitement. It didn't matter what Hao thought, or if my absence at home would attract his attention. That show was not only a professional opportunity, but also a reminder of what I had been before my life was reduced to being Chen Hao's wife.
I stood up and put the invitation in my purse, as a symbol of my decision to prioritize myself. Then, I took off my dress and put on my pajamas.
As I got into bed, I hugged the pillow that had been my only comfort during that year. I looked towards the window, where the moonlight softly illuminated my room.
For the first time in months, my thoughts were not on Chen Hao. They were on myself.
*****
I turned off the computer and let out a long sigh. The documents on my desk remained untouched, as if patiently waiting for me to review them. I had spent the day at the office, though I couldn't say for sure how much work I had done. My mind, restless, had refused to concentrate since morning.
My gaze drifted to a framed photo on the edge of the table. It was of my parents, taken during a family trip years ago. My mother smiled broadly, holding a straw hat, while my father looked directly at the camera with his serious expression as always.
I turned the photo away from me, as if with that gesture I could also get rid of the thoughts that were haunting me. I knew perfectly well what day it was. Since I opened my eyes that morning, the memory of my wedding anniversary had been present, like a persistent shadow.
"So what?" I said to myself, straightening up in the chair. There was no need to act as if it were a special day. I knew that Ai had probably prepared something, but what did that change? Nothing I did could alter what our marriage already was: a carefully constructed facade.
I stood up and picked up my briefcase. My assistant, who was finishing filing some documents on the other side of the office, looked at me with some surprise.
"Are you leaving, Mr. Chen?"
I nodded with a brief gesture.
"Yes. You can go too."
Without waiting for a response, I crossed the hall, took the elevator, and left the building. The chauffeur was waiting for me by the car.
"Home," I ordered as I settled into the back seat. But before the vehicle started, I added, "After you drop me off, you can take the night off."
He nodded and drove in silence.
I looked out the window, but my mind was not on the streets of Shanghai. It was on Ai, imagining what the scene that surely awaited me upon arrival would be like.
The car stopped in front of the mansion. I got out and closed the door behind me with a sharp thud. I stood for a moment at the entrance, looking at the dark house. The dim light surprised me. I entered silently, leaving the briefcase on the sofa in the living room. The echo of my footsteps was the only sound in the huge room. I went to the kitchen, hoping to find the dishes for the dinner she had prepared.
But what I saw stopped me in my tracks.
The trash can was full. Inside were food scraps, dishes that had not even been touched. I recognized some of the ingredients, vaguely remembering the times she had prepared those same dishes.
I leaned over to look more closely, as if I needed to confirm it. This was not normal. Xu Ai never threw anything away. Even when I arrived late or didn't show up, she always saved the food, as if she wanted to show that she was willing to wait for me.
"What is happening?" I thought. My bewilderment turning into a feeling that I couldn't ignore.
I went to the dining room, where I found the cake in the center of the table. It was perfect, like everything she did. But something about its perfection disturbed me. The candles had burned out completely, leaving small puddles of dry wax around the base.
The cake seemed to be a symbol of something more, something I couldn't decipher. It was as if Ai had left that small act of resistance, a silent reminder that I had not been there.
I went upstairs in silence, my mind full of questions. The door to Xu Ai's bedroom was ajar. For a moment, I considered simply continuing to my own room, but I didn't. I pushed it carefully, leaving just enough space to be able to enter. The room was dimly lit by the outside light that filtered through the curtains.
She was there, asleep, her face serene and a slight smile curving her lips.
I stopped at the foot of the bed, unable to take my eyes off her. There was something hypnotic about that tranquil expression, about that smile that seemed to hold a secret that I couldn't decipher.
For a moment, time went back seven years.
I remembered her in high school, sitting in the sun during breaks, with the same smile illuminating her face as she chatted with her friends. I remembered how I would stay watching her, mesmerized, and how more than once a ball had hit me because I wasn't paying attention to the game.
In those days, I felt fortunate to be able to see her, even from afar. I had never dared to get too close, fearing that she would notice my clumsiness or that someone would discover what I felt. But now, standing in front of her in her room, that same smile seemed like a cruel mockery.
The happiness I saw on her lips seemed hurtful, as if it hid a truth that I couldn't accept. The memory of the wedding crept into my mind like an unexpected blow. I had arrived that day full of illusion, almost trembling with nerves to discover that the woman I had been forced to marry was Xu Ai, whom I had secretly loved for so long.
That morning, as I signed the marriage certificate, I had felt that my impossible dream had come true. But that happiness had turned into something much more bitter.
"What kind of evil can be hidden behind a smile like that?" I thought, clenching my fists.
The pain in my chest turned into anger. I spun on my heels and left the room, leaving the door as I had found it.
When I reached my bedroom, I closed it behind me with a sharp bang. I walked to the bed and let myself fall onto it, still wearing my suit. My thoughts swirled in circles, becoming more and more confused and contradictory.
Remembering those days in high school, when my love for Xu Ai was pure and uncomplicated, only made the current reality more difficult to bear. I felt betrayed, not only by her, but also by my own feelings.
I tried to close my eyes, seeking the relief of sleep, but my mind would not leave me in peace. "Why do I keep worrying about her?" I asked myself furiously, turning on the mattress.
Xu Ai's smile remained engraved in my memory, mixing with the memories of my past and with the doubts that gnawed at me in the present. Finally, I was left staring at the ceiling, motionless, as frustration took hold of me. I couldn't go on like this. Something had to change, but I didn't know if I was ready to face what that implied.
CHAPTER 6
I ran my fingertips over the surface of the dress I had carefully placed on the bed. The crimson satin, deep and shimmering under the dim bedroom light, seemed to speak to me, reminding me that there was still something inside me that time had not extinguished. Every fold, every seam, carried my essence; that small spark of passion that I had kept as a secret during the past year.
I sighed deeply, feeling the nerves beginning to settle in my chest. It wasn't common for me to go out, much less to attend an event related to the world of fashion, that universe I had left behind when I got married. However, tonight was different. This time I wasn't going as the wife of the president of Tianlong Group, but as a woman who needed to remind herself who she was.
The room was in complete silence, broken only by the soft sound of the brush gliding through my hair. In front of the mirror, I tried to concentrate on the details: the hairstyle, the pearl earrings I inherited from my grandmother, the makeup that subtly enhanced my features. But my mind wouldn't stop wandering. Memories of my university days mixed with the uncertainty of the present, creating a tangle of emotions that I struggled to unravel.
"What will they say when they see me?" I wondered as I applied the last touch of color to my lips. The question had been on my mind all day. It had been so long since the last time I faced an environment like this that I was afraid I wouldn't know how to handle it. "What if someone asks me if I'm still designing? What will I tell them? The truth? That I never stopped doing it, but that I kept it a secret because it was the only thing I could call my own?"
I stood up, leaving the lipstick on the dressing table, and turned towards the dress. Despite my doubts, I couldn't deny the pride I felt seeing it. Every stitch, every detail, was a silent testament to the nights I had spent in the small makeshift workshop. For Chen Hao, it was just another room; for me, it was a refuge, a place where I could simply be Xu Ai.
I dressed myself with precise movements, adjusting the side closure and smoothing the fabric with my hands. The dress fit my figure like a glove, highlighting my natural elegance without being flashy. Before leaving, I took a bottle of perfume and applied a few drops to my wrists and behind my ears. The light, floral scent transported me to a simpler time, before my life was marked by coldness and other people's expectations.
"This is not just a dress," I thought, straightening my shoulders in front of the mirror. "It's my declaration that I'm still here."
With a last look in the mirror, I grabbed my purse and left the bedroom. I went downstairs with firm steps, feeling confidence grow with each step I descended. The echo of my heels resounded in the silent mansion, marking the rhythm of my determination.
The cool night air enveloped me as I stepped outside. I lifted the hem of the dress slightly so as not to trip as I went down the entrance steps. The black car waited next to the central fountain, and the chauffeur hurried to open the door for me with a respectful bow.
"Good evening, Mrs. Chen," he greeted in a firm voice.
"Good evening, Lin. I need you to take me to the Waterhouse at South Bund tonight," I replied, settling into the back seat carefully so as not to wrinkle the fabric of the dress.
The car started smoothly, leaving behind the mansion that I had so often felt like a cage. As we moved forward, I turned my gaze towards the window. "What am I doing?" I asked myself for the umpteenth time, while my fingers drummed nervously on the purse I carried in my lap.
I had accepted almost on impulse, an act of rebellion against the oppressive routine in which I had been trapped for the past year. However, now that I was about to face the world I had left behind, new doubts attacked me. What would my old colleagues say when they saw me? Would they remember me as the promising designer I once was or only as Chen Hao's wife?
The car braked at a traffic light, and my eyes landed on the sidewalk. A young couple walked hand in hand, laughing carefree. The image brought back a fleeting memory of my university days, when I dreamed of a life in which my passion for design would be the center of everything. But reality had been very different. I had exchanged my dreams for a marriage that had only brought me sadness and humiliation.
A knot formed in my throat, but I quickly repressed it. I wasn't going to allow those thoughts to dominate me. Tonight was for me, a reminder that I could still be more than a wife who lived in her husband's shadow.
"Will we arrive soon, Lin?" I asked, more to distract myself than because I was really concerned about the time.
"In a few minutes, Mrs. Chen. Traffic is light tonight."
I nodded, looking out the window again. Little by little, the lights of the Waterhouse began to appear in the distance. The building, imposing and elegant, seemed to be enveloped in a halo of sophistication, as if inviting me to leave behind all my insecurities and enter a world that I had once called my own.
When the car stopped, the driver got out to open the door for me.
"Thank you, Lin. I'll call you when I'm done," I said, getting out carefully and smoothing my dress.
"I'll be waiting, Mrs. Chen. Have a good night."
The glass doors opened with a soft turn, and the bustle of the event immediately enveloped me. I advanced with calculated steps, although each one required a conscious effort to keep my facade of security. Around me, the attendees, dressed in impeccable suits and dazzling dresses, moved between the exhibition tables and the animated conversations.
For a moment, I felt overwhelmed. It was as if the eyes of the crowd, even if they weren't directed specifically at me, pierced me, exposing my deepest insecurities. I took a deep breath and reminded myself of the reason I was there: not to prove anything to anyone, but to reconnect with a part of myself that had been dormant for too long.
I walked towards a table where several designers were showcasing their latest creations. The garments, full of life and color, seemed to reflect the hopes and dreams of their creators. I couldn't help but smile as I remembered what it was like to be that young dreamer who put her soul into every design. That memory gave me strength. I straightened my shoulders and let my gaze wander calmly, absorbing every detail.
Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the background noise.
"Xu Ai...?"
I turned slowly, and my heart skipped a beat when I met a familiar face. It was Li Wen, one of my old university classmates. His fitted black suit and wide smile reflected confidence, but also a warmth that hadn't changed over the years.
"Li Wen!" I replied, trying to match his enthusiasm.
He took a step towards me, extending his arms for a brief but affectionate hug.
"I can't believe it. How long has it been? Two years? Three?" he asked, studying me with a mixture of surprise and admiration.
"Almost three," I confirmed, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over me.
"You look incredible. And that dress... is it yours?" he asked, pointing to the garment with an admiring gesture.
His question took me by surprise, but it also filled me with pride.
"Yes, it is," I admitted, smoothing the fabric with one hand.
Li Wen looked at me with genuine admiration.
"I knew you would stand out since I saw your first design at university. You always had that special something."
I smiled, although his words touched a sensitive chord. What would he have thought if he knew how I had buried my talent, how I had set aside my dreams for a marriage that I could barely call such?
"And you? I see you're still in the world of fashion," I said, trying to divert attention.
"Oh, yes. I've been working on a new collection. In fact, I have an exhibition in Paris next month. But you, Xu Ai, should be here as an exhibitor, not as a guest."
His words disarmed me. For a moment, I considered telling him everything: how I had given up my studies, how I had changed my life to build something that now seemed like a ruin. But instead, I smiled and nodded, letting Li Wen's words fade into the air.
"Maybe I'll consider it," I replied, although I knew that decision was far from simple.
Wen was called away by another group, and I found myself alone in front of an exhibition table. I looked at the dresses with a mixture of admiration and nostalgia, letting my thoughts flow freely. Li's words echoed in my mind: "You should be here as an exhibitor, not as a guest." My heart contracted at the thought of how far I felt from that possibility, although deep down I knew that a spark of that young woman full of dreams and ambitions remained.
"I see you haven't lost your critical eye," a soft but unmistakable voice said behind me.
I turned and met the intense gaze of Professor Meng, my former mentor at university. The woman, with her hair tied in an impeccable bun and an elegant black dress, still had that poise that combined authority and warmth in perfect measure.
"Professor Meng..." I whispered, unable to hold the emotion in my voice.
"Xu Ai... I thought I would never see you in a place like this again," she replied with a slight smile.
A lump formed in my throat. It was a reunion I hadn't anticipated, but which now seemed inevitable. During my university years, Professor Meng had been more than a teacher; she had been a guide, someone who believed in my talent even when I doubted it.
"It's been a long time," I managed to say, my voice trembling slightly.
"Too long," she agreed, studying me carefully. Then, her gaze shifted to the dress I was wearing. "That dress is yours, isn't it?"
I nodded slowly, feeling a mixture of pride and shame.
"Yes, it is."
Professor Meng gave a satisfied smile.
"I always knew you had talent. I never doubted that. But tell me, why haven't I seen more of your work in recent years?"
That question, full of sincerity, fell like a weight on me. I didn't know how to answer without revealing too much. I opted for a half-truth.
"My life took a different turn, and I stopped designing... at least publicly."
Meng watched me in silence for a moment before nodding, as if she understood more than she was willing to admit.
"It's never too late to come back, Xu Ai. What's easy never leads to anything memorable, and you know that better than anyone."
Those words, spoken with the perfect mix of firmness and affection, touched something deep within me. Professor Meng gave me a light squeeze on the arm before walking away to greet other attendees, leaving me with a mixture of emotions that were difficult to process.
I stood motionless, watching Meng walk away, her figure disappearing into the crowd. Her words echoed in my mind, each one piercing the barriers I had built to protect myself. "It's never too late to come back." That phrase remained etched in my mind, like a promise and a challenge at the same time.
I took a step towards the nearest exhibition table, letting my fingers brush the fabric of an emerald green dress. The details were exquisite: intricate embroidery that flowed like a river of gold and silver, a masterpiece that reflected dedication and love for the craft. At that moment, I realized how much I missed being part of something like that.
"What am I doing with my life?" I asked myself, feeling a pang of sadness mixed with determination. I had allowed my dreams to be trapped under the weight of a marriage that, at best, was a well-maintained facade. I had sacrificed too much, and for the first time in years, I couldn't justify it.
"Excuse me, are you Xu Ai?" a soft voice interrupted my thoughts.
I turned and met a young woman, perhaps in her twenties, wearing a simple black dress and holding a notepad in her hands. Her expression was a mixture of shyness and admiration.
"Yes, I am," I replied, not knowing what to expect.
"I'm a design student at the Shanghai Academy, and... well, I was told about you in one of my classes. My professor showed some of your old designs. They were incredible, truly inspiring. Are you still designing?" she asked, her eyes shining with genuine curiosity.
I was speechless for a moment, surprised that someone remembered my work. Finally, I smiled, although my response came out weaker than I would have liked.
"Not as much as before. But... thank you for your words. They mean a lot to me."
The young woman nodded, as if she understood something that I had not fully come to terms with.
"Well, if you ever decide to come back, I'm sure many people would be excited to see your work again."
I watched her walk away, her youthful enthusiasm leaving me with a mixture of nostalgia and longing. Her comment, so simple and sincere, ignited something within me. It wasn't just the memory of what it had been; it was the possibility of what could still be.
I took a deep breath and let the bustle of the event envelop me once more. My steps led me towards the exit, but this time I didn't feel the weight of insecurity. Instead, there was a silent determination growing inside me.
The cool night air greeted me as I stepped outside. I paused for a moment on the steps of the Ritz-Carlton, looking at the lights of Shanghai stretching out before me like an infinite canvas. It was a city full of possibilities, and for the first time in a long time, I allowed myself to imagine what it would be like to be part of that world again.
Lin, my chauffeur, hurried to open the door for me.
"Everything alright, Mrs. Chen?" he asked respectfully.
"Yes, Lin. Everything is fine," I replied, getting into the car with a slight smile on my lips.
As we drove through the illuminated streets, I rested my forehead against the window, letting the vibrant energy of the city filter into me. Tonight had not been what I expected, but somehow, it was exactly what I needed.
I returned to the mansion with a new purpose, although it was still an undefined sketch. I walked through the dark hallways, my heels echoing the rhythm of my thoughts. When I reached my bedroom, I carefully took off the dress and hung it in the closet, as if it were a symbol of what I could recover.
I sat in front of the dressing table, my fingers caressing the surface as I looked at my reflection. My eyes shone with something different this time: hope.
"It's never too late to come back," I thought, remembering Professor Meng's words. Never.
I laid down, hugging the pillow as so many times before. But this time, my thoughts were not trapped in what I had lost. They were focused on what I could still recover.
CHAPTER 7
I stared at nothing as I thought about Xu Ai. Since our wedding anniversary, something had shifted between us. While her behavior remained impeccable, there was a coldness that wasn't there before. I saw it in her gestures, in the meticulous way she performed her tasks, as if every movement were calculated to avoid any unnecessary interaction with me.
The image of that perfectly prepared dinner that she threw in the trash was still etched in my mind. And then there was the cake, untouched, which remained in the center of the table like a silent symbol of something I couldn't ignore. Part of me wanted to forget that scene, but another insisted on reminding me, like a wound that refused to heal.
I knew I had hurt her. That once again I had met her worst expectations of me. But I didn't regret it. "She can't expect anything more from this marriage," I repeated to myself, trying to convince myself. However, there was an uncomfortable pang in my chest, a feeling that I couldn't dismiss so easily. That night had been a reminder for both of us: our relationship had no future. And the sooner she understood it, the better it would be for both of us.
A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up and saw Jiang, my assistant, enter with a pile of documents in his hands and an expression that left no room for distractions.
"Mr. Chen, Mr. Xu is here to see you."
I let out a silent sigh as I straightened up in my chair. The mere mention of that name was enough to make my jaw clench.
"Send him in," I replied, modulating my tone to sound neutral.
As Jiang left, I took the moment to prepare myself mentally. I knew my father-in-law's visits all too well. They always started the same: polite comments, superficial questions about his daughter, and finally, the real reason for his presence. His face was as familiar to me as it was predictable, always hiding an agenda beneath that rehearsed smile.
The door opened again, and he entered with the confidence of someone who knew he would get what he wanted. His walk was assured, his posture impeccable, and he wore a broad smile, as if he were an old friend he hadn't seen in years.
"Hao, my boy, it's good to see you," he greeted, extending his hand with the enthusiasm that only a skilled manipulator could fake.
I stood up and returned the smile, the one I reserved for meetings where cordiality was a necessary mask and shook his hand firmly.
"Mr. Xu, it's a pleasure to receive you. Please, have a seat."
We both sat down, and, as if following a script, he began with the usual questions.
"How is my daughter?" he asked, leaning forward as if the answer really mattered to him.
I kept my composure and replied precisely:
"She's very well. Our marriage couldn't be better."
It was a lie that slipped easily between my lips, devoid of details, because I knew that he didn't need or want them. His face lit up with satisfaction, as if he had fulfilled a symbolic duty by asking.
"I'm glad to hear that, Hao. It really was a beneficial agreement for both families. I'm proud of how we've strengthened our relationship."
If it had been someone else, I probably would have rolled my eyes. But I simply nodded, letting him continue with his carefully prepared prelude. I knew that this was nothing more than a formality before getting to the real reason for his visit.
I decided to get ahead of him, cutting his speech short.
"So, Mr. Xu, what brings you here today?" I asked, adopting a posture that simulated interest.
He seemed to hesitate for a moment, although we both knew there was no surprise in his answer.
Finally, he took a breath, dropping the facade with the same ease as someone taking off a coat. His voice took on a more serious tone as he told me about his new project: a real estate development that, according to him, had the potential to generate significant profits. As I listened to him detail every aspect of the proposal, I kept my expression neutral. I let him speak, measuring every word he said, although inside I couldn't help but question how much truth there was behind his carefully calculated discourse.
When he finished, I leaned back in my chair, watching him in silence. I let the weight of my gaze make him uncomfortable, although he stayed impassive, pretending to be confident. Then, without saying anything, I reached into my pocket and pulled out my checkbook.
"How much do you need?" I asked as I slid the pen across the paper with deliberate calm.
Mr. Xu raised his hands in a theatrical gesture of offense, as if he were genuinely surprised by my reaction.
"I did not come for money, Hao! I just wanted to share this idea with you..."
I didn't let him finish.
"I know, but I want to participate in the project, and I know that the best way to do that is to trust you to manage it. Tell me the amount."
He hesitated for a moment, as if he were still considering keeping appearances. But we both knew there was no point in prolonging the charade. Finally, he mentioned the figure: five million yuan. Without blinking, I wrote the check, tore off the sheet with a precise movement, and extended it to him.
"Here you go. I'm sure you'll do an excellent job."
His face lit up as he took the check with both hands. A mixture of gratitude and satisfaction crossed his expression, although I knew that gratitude was nothing more than an empty formality.
"Thank you, Hao. You're an exceptional young man. I appreciate your trust in me."
I returned a polite smile, the kind that never reached my eyes.
"Remember to give my regards to Ai. Tell her that I hope to see her home soon."
"Of course, I'll remind her."
The exchange of farewells was brief. I rose from my chair to shake his hand once more and then watched him leave my office with steps that seemed lighter now that he carried a check in his pocket.
When the door closed behind him, silence filled the room. I stood for a moment, staring at the empty space in front of me. Slowly, I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white, feeling the frustration building up in my chest.
The visit had been like all the previous ones: a reminder of the price I paid for a marriage that seemed more like a transaction than a union. But this time, the weight of that reality seemed more unbearable. "How much more do I have to pay to maintain this facade?" I thought, letting out a long sigh.
I walked towards the window of my office, drawing back the curtains to see the city. The midday sun warmed Shanghai, highlighting the skyscrapers and the constant traffic of the main avenue. But my gaze wasn't really on the landscape. My thoughts remained trapped in the encounter I had, and in what it represented for me.
Anger stirred beneath the surface, although my face remained impassive. I had always been good at hiding my emotions, burying them beneath layers of control. But the encounter with Mr. Xu had left a mark that I couldn't ignore.
"Another favor, another debt," I thought bitterly. Every check I handed over not only bought time; it also reinforced the chains that kept me trapped in this marriage. Although I tried to convince myself that it was just a signed paper, I knew it was much more than that. It was a constant reminder of what I had lost, of what I had chosen to sacrifice.
I returned to the desk, looking at the documents piled in front of me. I tried to concentrate on the figures and contracts, but the words seemed to vanish as soon as I read them. My mind kept returning to Xu Ai, as if she were the epicenter of all my thoughts, even when I tried to avoid it.
The image of the untouched cake on the table during our anniversary crossed my mind. And then, the trash can filled with the remains of the dinner she had prepared. It was a silent testament to her disappointment, to something I was unwilling to admit. Why did I keep thinking about that? Why did her expression that day continue to unsettle me?
With a determined movement, I closed the folder in front of me and pressed the intercom.
"Jiang, postpone my afternoon meetings. I'm going out."
"Understood, Mr. Chen."
I didn't wait any longer. I picked up my briefcase and left the office with firm steps, heading for the car that was already waiting outside. As I got in, I gave the chauffeur a brief order:
"Take me home."
The journey passed in silence. I looked out the window, but I didn't see the streets or the buildings. My mind was full of contradictions and emotions that I couldn't understand or control.
When the car stopped in front of the mansion, I got out and closed the door with more force than necessary. The sun bathed the place with its warm light, but it failed to alleviate the coldness I felt inside. I climbed the entrance steps, adjusting my jacket as if I were preparing to face something I couldn't foresee.
As I opened the door, silence greeted me. I walked towards the kitchen, leaving the briefcase on a chair. There were no signs of life: neither the aroma of food, nor the sound of footsteps. Everything was devoid of Xu Ai's presence.
I went upstairs with firm steps, stopping in front of the door to her bedroom. It was slightly open. I pushed it gently, hoping to find her inside, but the room was empty. Everything was impeccably tidy, as always, but she wasn't there.
For a moment, I stayed on the threshold, seeing the empty space. My mind began to fill with questions. Why wasn't she home? Why hadn't she informed me? It was ridiculous that her absence bothered me so much, but I couldn't help it.
I left her bedroom and headed towards my study. Once inside, I let myself fall into the chair in front of my desk. I opened a folder, trying to concentrate on the documents, but the words were like background noise that I couldn't understand. My mind kept returning to Xu Ai, to her gaze, to her gestures, to everything she didn't say but that always seemed to be there.
The sound of the front door closing pulled me from my thoughts. I straightened up in the chair, listening attentively. From the door I could observe the hallway, I saw her silhouette moving carefully, almost as if trying not to be noticed. I stayed where I was, watching her, hoping that she would access her bedroom without noticing my presence.
When she did, I leaned back again, trying to remain calm. But inside, my mind was a whirlwind. "What are you planning, Xu Ai?" I wondered, as my jaw tightened, and emotions accumulated in my chest.
Without answers, only the echo of my thoughts remained, resonating in the silence. The control that I had always exerted over my life seemed to be slowly slipping through my fingers, leaving behind a void that I didn't know how to fill.
CHAPTER 8
I held the phone in my hands, rereading the message I had just received. Professor Meng was proposing that we have coffee that very afternoon, at 4:00 PM. A mixture of vertigo and emotion washed over me. She had always been more than a mentor to me; she was an inspiration, the representation of everything I once dreamed of being. But now… what would she think of me? Of a woman who had given up her passion for a marriage that was barely standing?
I lowered my gaze to the half-finished dress that laid on my work table, a piece of ivory fabric that was still waiting to become something more. I ran my fingers over the unfinished seam, feeling the small roughness of the thread. Every incomplete stitch seemed to whisper the dreams I had left unfinished.
I walked to the window and slightly pulled back the curtain. The sun bathed the back garden, where the yellow rose bushes swayed gently in the breeze. Despite the serenity outside, everything inside me was chaos. Should I accept the invitation? Did it make sense to return to a world that was no longer mine?
For a few moments, I thought about ignoring the message, letting time pass until it was too late to respond. But something in Meng's warm tone, even through a text message, pushed me to act. I turned towards the crimson dress that hung on the coat rack. I had worn it at the fashion event, a piece that stood for a timid attempt to reconnect with the world I missed so much. Without overthinking, I replied:
"See you at 4:00 PM."
The minutes slipped by slowly as I got ready. In front of the mirror, I put on a blouse that fell gracefully over a pair of clean-cut pants. I left my hair loose, allowing the soft waves to frame my face, and opted for barely perceptible makeup: a touch of blush and a lip gloss that enhanced my natural look.
As I looked at myself in the mirror, my mind wandered to the Xu Ai of years ago, the design student who dreamed of conquering catwalks and creating memorable collections. That young woman seemed so far away now, trapped under the weight of a surname. And yet, here I was, taking a step towards something that I couldn't define but that felt necessary.
I went downstairs with a firm step, although insecurity threatened me. The mansion was silent, as always. No noise disturbed the stillness. I grabbed my purse and went out the front door, where the car was already waiting for me.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Chen," the chauffeur greeted as he opened the door with a respectful bow.
"Good afternoon, Lin. Take me to Café Xiang, please," I replied, trying to sound calm.
The journey was short, although every kilometer seemed to lengthen the distance between my present and my past. I watched the city through the window, letting the lights and colors mix with my thoughts. Part of me feared this encounter, feared what Meng might tell me, what she would remember when she was with me. But another part, small but persistent, was excited. It was as if, for the first time in a long time, I was doing something solely for myself.
When the car stopped in front of the café, Lin got out quickly to open the door for me.
"Thank you, Lin. I'll call you when I'm done."
Café Xiang was a discreet but elegant place, with large windows that let in natural light and a minimalist decoration that conveyed warmth. As I entered, the aroma of freshly made coffee mixed with a light touch of vanilla enveloped me. My heels tapped softly against the wooden floor as I looked for Meng.
There she was, sitting by one of the windows, with a cup in her hands and a smile that lit up her face. Despite the years, Meng hadn't changed much. Her hair was still gathered in a neat bun, and her eyes kept that intensity that had always intimidated and motivated me in equal measure.
"Hello," Meng greeted, standing up to receive me. Her arms opened in a gesture that left no room for doubt, and I found myself enveloped in a warm embrace.
"Professor Meng," I murmured, feeling the emotions welling up in my chest.
She saw me with a critical, yet affectionate look that I remembered perfectly from my university days.
I sat down in front of her, who slid a cup of coffee towards me with a calm smile. The warmth of the coffee went through the porcelain, calming some of the nerves I had felt during the journey. However, her gaze, intense and full of expectations, awakened a mixture of admiration and fear in me. It was the same look she used to give me in my student days, when I still had confidence in my potential.
"I must confess something to you, Ai," she said, leaning slightly back in her chair, while she wrapped her hands around her cup. "When I saw you at the event, I felt a mixture of pride and sadness. Pride because you are still the talented designer that I always knew you would be. But sadness… because I know that you walked away from this world for too long."
My fingers traced small circles on the surface of the table, trying to process her words. Her voice had always had a special weight in my life. And now, hearing her recognize my talent, something inside me wanted to blossom, although doubts anchored me to the ground.
"I don't know if I'm still that designer," I replied in a whisper, trying not to break down.
Meng clicked her tongue softly, her characteristic gesture of disapproval. It was a sound I knew well, and for a moment, I felt like the student who hadn't completed an important assignment.
"Don't talk nonsense. That dress you wore to the event says everything I need to know. You have a talent that can't disappear, even if you decide to ignore it." She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on mine. "But tell me, why did you retire? What happened to you?"
The knot in my throat grew larger. I knew this conversation would come up eventually, although I wasn't prepared to face it.
"After I got married... I felt like I had to leave everything behind. My life changed course, and design took a backseat," I admitted finally, in a voice I barely recognized as my own.
Meng nodded slowly, as if she had expected that answer. Her gaze wasn't one of judgment, but of understanding.
"I always wondered why you left university so suddenly. You had all the potential to go far, Ai." She paused before asking me a question I had feared for years. "Do you regret it?"
The question hit me like a hammer. Regret was something I had avoided thinking about for a long time, because facing it meant accepting everything I had lost.
"Sometimes," I said quietly. "I think about what my life would have been like if I had followed a different path, but... I don't know if there's any turning back."
Meng watched me carefully, letting my words fill the silence before responding.
"There's always a way back, Ai. Life isn't a straight line. You can recover what you left behind, but you need courage to take that first step."
The firmness of her words resonated in my chest. I wanted to believe her; however, the burden I carried on my shoulders was too heavy. Could I really recover what I had left behind?
Meng sipped some of her coffee before adding:
"In fact, I was thinking about something while I was watching you at the event. I have contacts in Paris, at one of the most prestigious fashion academies. If you decide to truly commit to design, I can help you get a position there."
I looked up surprised by her proposal. Paris... The mere word evoked images of workshops full of fabrics and sketches, of catwalks where creations came to life. But that vision clashed with the reality of my current life, a life that seemed incompatible with that dream.
"Paris?" I asked, almost in disbelief.
Meng nodded, confidently, as if the decision had already been made.
"It's the heart of fashion, and I know you would fit in perfectly. But, of course, you'll need a solid portfolio and some new pieces to present." Her tone became more serious, though no less encouraging. "Are you willing to try?"
My heart was beating fast as I tried to assimilate what that proposal meant. Paris represented everything I had dreamed of, but also everything I feared. Could I really abandon this life and start over?
"I don't know what to say..." I murmured, my gaze fixed on the coffee cup in front of me.
Meng smiled patiently.
"You don't need to decide now. Although I want you to think about it. Life is too short to let fears hold you back. And you, Xu Ai, have a talent that shouldn't be wasted."
Her words ignited something inside me, a small spark that I hadn't felt in years. I could imagine myself in Paris, working in a workshop, creating unique designs. For a moment, that possibility seemed more real than anything else.
"I'll think about it. I really will," I said at last, with a thread of hope in my voice.
Meng nodded, satisfied, as if she knew that her words had already left their mark.
"That's all I need to hear. When you're ready, I'll be here to help you."
When I left the café, the cool breeze caressed my face, as if it wanted to relieve the tension accumulated during the conversation. The professor's words resonated in my mind with a force I couldn't ignore. "There's always a way back," she said. But was it really that simple? The life I had built, the decisions I made, everything seemed like an anchor that kept me tied to the present.
I stopped on the sidewalk, adjusting my purse over my shoulder as I looked at the street in front of me. The city was still moving, indifferent to my doubts. I looked at my phone and dialed the chauffeur's number.
"Lin, I'm ready," I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.
"I'll be right there, Mrs. Chen. I'll arrive in five minutes," he replied in his respectful tone.
I put away the phone and crossed my arms, hugging myself slightly as I waited. My gaze wandered to the sky, where the first clouds of the afternoon were tinged with the colors of sunset. A woman passed by me with a bag full of fabrics, and unintentionally, I felt a pang of envy. She seemed to know exactly who she was, while I was just beginning to rediscover myself.
When the car arrived, Lin quickly got out to open the door for me. I got in silently, thanking him with a slight nod.
"Shall we return home, Mrs. Chen?" he asked.
I stayed thoughtful for a moment before answering.
"No. Take me to the Fengye commercial district. I want to do some shopping."
Lin showed no surprise, just nodded and started the car. During the journey, my mind continued to waver between the security of my routine and the vertigo that Meng had awakened in me. Could I really take a turn in my life? Or was I condemned to continue being the shadow of who I used to be?
The commercial district was full of life, with bright shop windows displaying exquisite fabrics and modern designs. I got out of the car and asked Lin to wait for me. My heels tapped against the pavement as I walked between the shops, letting my gaze get lost in the colors and textures that surrounded me.
One shop caught my attention. The window displayed a silk fabric with a delicate, almost ethereal floral print. I entered without hesitation, letting the aroma of new fabrics envelop me.
"Good afternoon," the saleswoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"
"I want to see that silk fabric in the window," I replied, pointing to it with a slight movement of my head.
The woman nodded and led me to a table where she spread out the fabric carefully. I ran my fingers over its surface, feeling the softness and quality of the material. It was perfect. Without thinking too much, I asked for three meters and waited while the saleswoman rolled it up with precision.
Back in the car, I carried the fabric in my hands as if it were a treasure. Lin looked at me briefly in the rearview mirror but made no comment. I appreciated his discretion as I leaned back in the seat, watching the city pass by my side through the window.
When I arrived home, I went straight up to my workshop. I left the fabric on the table and stood looking at it for a long moment, as if waiting for it to reveal to me what it wanted to be. I turned on the desk lamp and took my sketchbook. It was a habit I hadn't lost, even during the most difficult times.
I sat down and let the pencil glide over the paper, drawing soft lines that gradually transformed into a design. I visualized an elegant dress, with a flowing cut that would highlight the delicacy of the print. As the details took shape, I felt the emotion begin to fill the void I had been carrying.
For the first time in a long time, I felt that I was creating something that really mattered. This dress wouldn't be for anyone else. It would be for me, a reminder that I could still do something beautiful, something that would bring me back to life.
The pencil stopped when I finished the design, and I stood looking at the sketch with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. "This is just the beginning," I said to myself, letting out a sigh. Although the road ahead seemed uncertain, I had taken the first step, and that was what really mattered.
CHAPTER 9
I was trying to concentrate, although the words and figures on the sheets were just background noise. For days now, my ability to keep focus, that constant that had always defined me, had been slowly crumbling.
I looked towards the horizon. The city lights shone as brightly as ever, but for me, something was different. Since our wedding anniversary, Xu Ai began to act in a way I could not ignore. I remembered the last gala we attended together. Xu Ai was radiant in that dress that, even without words, seemed to speak about her. She caught everyone's eyes, moving with an elegance that made me feel, for an instant, that we were the perfect couple. Though behind her flawless smile, I knew there was something else. Something I didn't want to see at the time. Now, that memory came back to me with another nuance. Had she always been so distant, so alien to me? Or was it my pride that had prevented me from seeing beyond her smiles and silences?
I let out a sigh, dropping my back against the back of the chair as I rubbed my temples. That sparkle in her eyes during the gala, the way the other men couldn't look away? It threw me off, like she was pulling away from a place we no longer shared. I couldn't shake the feeling that Xu Ai was building something away from me, something that excluded me. That idea irritated me more than I was willing to admit.
"It doesn't matter what she's doing," I said to myself, though the thought felt hollow to me. The truth was that it did matter. More than I wanted to accept.
I leaned forward and pressed the intercom.
"Jiang, come to my office."
In less than a minute, Jiang appeared with his usual efficiency, carrying a folder under his arm and his notebook in his hand.
"How can I help you, Mr. Chen?"
I took a moment before answering, evaluating my own intentions. Finally, I spoke, trying to make my tone sound controlled.
"I want you to investigate my wife's recent movements. Where she's gone, who she's been with... everything"
Jiang nodded without showing surprise. He had been working for me for years, and he knew my orders were not to be questioned.
"Is there anything in particular I should be looking for?"
I shook my head.
"Just keep it discreet. This is for her safety."
Even as I spoke those words, they rang hollow. We both knew it wasn't for safety. I needed to know what Xu Ai was doing, why she was so different, so distant.
Jiang bowed slightly before leaving the office, leaving behind a heavy silence. I leaned back in my chair again, turning my gaze to the window. The city was following its usual course, but inside me something was out of place.
I closed my eyes for a moment, as if that could calm the whirlwind inside me. Emotions that I thought were controlled, encapsulated, were coming to the surface. Why did I still care so much about what Xu Ai was doing? Why was I so bothered by the possibility that she was finding something far away from me?
I opened my eyes and looked down at the documents on my desk. I tried to focus on them, but the letters seemed to dance in front of me, mocking my inability to control everything.
The echo of my own thoughts filled the office, making clear what I didn't want to admit: I was losing control. But what disturbed me most was the idea that I never really had it.
*****
A sharp knock on the door shattered the silence of the office. I looked up from the documents, though I hadn't been able to concentrate for a while. Jiang poked his head in, a folder tucked under his arm and a cautious expression on his face.
"Mr. Chen, the report you requested," he announced formally, stepping in with measured movements.
I pointed to the desk without saying a word. Jiang carefully placed the folder down and, after a brief nod, left, closing the door behind him. The weight of silence returned to the room, though now it carried a different kind of heaviness.
I picked up the folder and opened it with deliberate movements, as if afraid of what I might find inside. At first, I read quickly, but my eyes slowed as they caught precise details: the event Xu Ai had attended, the guests, even photographs of the venue. However, what truly captured my attention was the description of her interactions with a woman named Meng and other former colleagues.
"A talented young woman with a promising future," I read in a direct quote. The air in the office seemed to grow heavier. I continued reading more carefully, uncovering pieces of a story that had been completely unknown to me until now. Xu Ai—the woman I shared a roof with—had once been highly regarded during her university years.
I let the pages fall onto the desk and leaned back in my chair, bringing a hand to my forehead. All this time, I had thought I knew her. I had built an image of her based on what I had heard that one time, a version that was now crumbling. How had I not seen any of it? During our marriage, she had never shown obvious signs of that past life. Or perhaps she had, and I simply refused to notice?
The memory of the last gala came flooding back. I pictured the dress she had worn elegant, perfectly crafted, as if designed to convey strength and delicacy at once. I had always assumed she had bought it but now doubt gnawed at me. Had it been one of her own creations?
I walked to the window, seeking answers in the Shanghai skyline. For years, I had been a master at building walls, hiding behind the control I exerted over my life. Yet Xu Ai was challenging all of that—not with words, but simply by existing.
The report also mentioned that she used her credit card only for minimal expenses: food and essential items. There were never any transactions suggesting a life of luxury. But then, where did the dresses come from? How did she maintain that flawless appearance? Every new piece of information raised more questions than it answered.
What else have I ignored? I thought, gritting my teeth. Everything about Xu Ai was an enigma I had preferred not to solve. It was easier to see her as someone who had accepted this marriage out of convenience, to believe we were both playing roles in this charade.
I returned to the desk and picked up the folder again, searching for any additional details. Near the end, I noticed a brief note that made my lips tighten:
"Xu Ai spent considerable time speaking with Professor Meng, who mentioned possible international opportunities."
International...
The knot in my stomach tightened at the thought that Xu Ai might be considering leaving Shanghai. I had assumed that, however miserable our marriage might be, it was still common ground we shared. But now I faced the possibility that she was building a life beyond my reach.
I sighed heavily and placed the folder back on the desk. I closed my eyes, leaning back into the chair. For a year, I had reduced her to a simplistic image, built from my resentment. Now I stood before a more complex truth: I did not know who Xu Ai truly was. I had never bothered to find out.
I picked up the phone and dialed Jiang.
"Yes, Mr. Chen?" he answered immediately.
"I want you to expand the investigation. Dig deeper into her past. I need to know everything, from the beginning."
"Understood, sir."
I hung up and set the phone down, crossing my arms as my gaze remained fixed on the folder. One question echoed in my mind, impossible to ignore:
What if everything I thought I knew about her was wrong?
For the first time in a long while, I felt the control I valued so much slipping through my fingers. Xu Ai was not who I had believed she was. She was so much more—and now, that realization felt as fascinating as it was terrifying.