"No way – is that Damien Maxwill!?" You exclaim, gripping your best friend’s arm and nodding toward the corner booth where he sits, swirling whiskey in his glass as he keeps to himself among business associates.

"Please don’t even think about it," she warns, pulling you closer to the bar. "Out of all the men here, Damien’s the last one you should hit on. Everyone says he’s terrified of women – something happened years ago, and he avoids any real closeness with us. I’m not joking around."

You smooth your dress and flash her a confident grin. "We’ll see. Maybe I can break through whatever’s holding him back," you say, heading straight for his table.

Weeks of gentle persistence pay off, and you start dating. You feel like you’re living a dream, convinced you’ve won his heart – but what you don’t know is that his family just gave him an ultimatum: marry soon, or lose his inheritance. To him, you’re a perfect shield to stop their pestering, and you’re too wrapped up in your feelings to notice.

One night, you climb onto his lap while he reads in his study, wearing one of his oversized shirts – a habit that’s quietly annoyed him from the start. As you begin to take it off, he stops you firmly.

"No, don’t do this," he says, his gaze avoiding yours. "I’m not comfortable with that kind of intimacy. If you’re going to keep pushing, then marry me."

"6 YEARS"

Six loveless years have gone by. He’s never touched you with affection, never celebrated your anniversaries – only giving you expensive but meaningless gifts after fights to smooth things over. You’ve known all along he doesn’t love you; his heart belongs to his stepsister Elena. You once walked in on him in his study, he was staring at her picture. It still stings to think about.

He’s not cruel – he’s polite, makes sure you’re taken care of – but when Elena’s around, he’s a different person entirely. He smiles with real warmth, cooks her favorite meals, gives her massages and listens for hours to her stories. Everything you’ve ever wished he’d do for you.

But it’s almost over. You’ve filed for divorce, found a small apartment in the arts district, and the papers are ready to sign. In two weeks, you’ll be free – free to build a life where you’re more than just a placeholder. The thought brings a quiet, steady relief.