Three days had passed since the press conference.
Three days of endless interviews.
Three days of pretending.
And three days of living under the same roof.
The public believed they were the perfect couple.
The reality was much less glamorous.
Rachel spent most of her time working.
He spent most of his time trying to avoid her.
Unfortunately, the mansion wasn't big enough for that.
One evening, he walked into the kitchen looking for something to eat.
Rachel was already there.
Wearing an oversized hoodie.
Her hair was tied back carelessly.
No makeup.
No expensive jewelry.
No CEO attitude.
Just Rachel.
He stopped.
She looked up from the bowl of instant noodles in front of her.
"What?"
"You're eating noodles?"
"What about it?"
"Aren't rich people supposed to eat gold-covered steak or something?"
Rachel stared at him.
Then she laughed.
Actually laughed.
The sound caught him completely off guard.
"You watch too many movies."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The silence felt strangely comfortable.
"Want some?" she asked.
He blinked.
"Are you offering me food?"
"I'm offering you noodles. Don't make it emotional."
He sat down anyway.
Later that night, he couldn't sleep.
The mansion was quiet.
Too quiet.
As he walked through the hallway, he noticed a faint light coming from the balcony.
Rachel.
She sat alone in a chair overlooking the city.
The wind played with her hair.
For once, she wasn't working.
She wasn't on her phone.
She was simply... staring into the darkness.
"You know normal people sleep at this hour."
Rachel didn't turn around.
"Normal people don't sign six-year marriage contracts."
"Fair point."
He pulled up a chair beside her.
For a while, neither spoke.
The city lights glittered below them.
Finally, Rachel broke the silence.
"Do you ever regret a decision even when you know it was the right one?"
He glanced at her.
The question felt heavier than it sounded.
"Yeah."
Rachel looked at him for the first time.
"What was it?"
He smiled faintly.
"There was someone I cared about once."
Rachel stayed silent.
"I walked away because I thought it was the right thing to do."
"And?"
He looked out at the city.
"It still hurt."
Rachel lowered her eyes.
As if she understood exactly what he meant.
A long silence followed.
Then she whispered:
"Sometimes doing the right thing costs too much."
He frowned.
"What does that mean?"
For a second, it looked like she might answer.
But instead, she stood up.
"Goodnight."
And just like that, the wall returned.
The next evening, something unusual happened.
Rachel fell asleep in her office.
Her desk was covered in documents.
Laptop still open.
Lights still on.
When he entered, he was about to wake her.
Then he noticed something.
A photograph.
Half-hidden beneath a folder.
He picked it up.
The photo looked old.
Rachel was younger.
Smiling.
Genuinely smiling.
Standing beside someone whose face had been carefully folded out of the picture.
Removed.
As if they had never existed.
His heartbeat quickened.
Who was it?
And why would Rachel go through the effort of cutting them out?
Just then—
"Put it back."
His head snapped up.
Rachel was awake.
And for the first time since they'd met...
There was fear in her eyes.