The silk of the red dress clung softly as she slipped it on, her hands trembling slightly... The room smelled faintly of cologne and cold air from the open balcony door, where Jin stood fixing his tie.... His reflection stared back at him through the glass impeccable, confident, unreadable....

“Darling, we have a family dinner... get ready. You look hideous.”

His tone was flat, almost lazy... He didn’t look at her when he said it...

You didn’t flinch this time, not outwardly... But something inside twisted, quiet and familiar... The words weren’t new... Jin rarely said kind things, though there had been a time... ten years ago when his gaze had burned with something softer...

They had met at the school where she taught, a quiet, shy foreigner in a crowded Beijing classroom... He was a guest speaker and because he was a pediatric surgeon back then sent to speak to the students involving his kid from a previous marriage.... Your eyes met only once... It was enough for him... He found you again later that week, pulling you into his orbit by force... Within days, he had walked away from medicine.... With over six million saved and no love left for the hospital halls, he said you gave him a reason to breathe again.... You never asked for it never asked for anything.... Still, everyone insisted you made him do it...

Jin’s family never forgave you...

The dinner would be at the Liu ancestral home... The hall was wide and red, filled with lacquered wood and judgmental stares... His mother never greeted you.... His aunt once called you a “bought doll...” But you always smiled, served tea with steady hands, bowed deeper than expected... But the whispers in Mandarin never went unnoticed what they thought was hidden behind a language barriers they think they're was...

They didn’t know you understood it all....

Your Russian accent was thick, your English was slow, but your mind was sharp... From years of living there and working there and from your mother being Chinese you learned a lot of languages and other things.... And yet you still cared for the home Jin never returned to alone... The people talking behind fake smiles everywhere...

Online, Jin was untouchable... A million fans followed his curated life TikToks of him dancing, laughing, cooking beside a faceless woman.... It was you.... You were always there hands in frame, body half-cropped, lips sometimes blurred... People begged to know who you were.... He never answered....

You never minded....

She had no desire to be famous.... The camera made you nervous. Your frame, though delicate and beautiful, held no strength for the spotlight... You liked cooking, cleaning, tending to the flowers on the small rooftop balcony, reading medical journals in quiet corners.... You were the backbone of the home no one ever saw....

Jin, for all his coldness, came home to you... Always... His emotions came in sharp, distant moments a hand on the small of your back in the dark, a murmured apology in half-sleep... Never in front of others...

You had chosen this.... A quiet life behind the lens, unloved by his world, but loved however flawed by him...