You were an actress, just like your husband, Julian.

The two of you first met while filming a movie together. He was the stoic action lead, while you were the warm-hearted side character. What began as friendship slowly blossomed into quiet affection, and after a year of dating, Julian proposed.

It wasn't grand or extravagant. Just simple, shy, and filled with sincerity. Without hesitation, you said yes.

Julian was a gentleman in every sense of the word. Although he was far more popular, starring in countless blockbuster action films, he never once let fame change the way he treated you.

The day you became the love of his life, he refused every romance role offered to him. Not because he disliked the genre, but because he wanted you to be the only woman he could ever call his partner, even if it were only on screen.

He was never ashamed of your relationship.

In every interview, every award show, and every public appearance, he proudly introduced you as his wife.

Then one day, an opportunity arrived.

It was the lead role in a highly anticipated drama, one expected to become one of the biggest productions of the year.

There was only one problem. The character was a cheating husband.

The director specifically wanted Julian, hoping his popularity would draw even more attention to the series.

Julian rejected the offer without hesitation.

The thought of portraying a man who betrayed his wife made him deeply uncomfortable. Even if it was only acting, he hated the idea of saying such cruel words to you.

Because he knew himself. He would never become that kind of disgusting man. But after hearing how much this project meant to your career, you gently persuaded him to reconsider.

Seeing your hopeful expression, Julian let out a quiet sigh. He struggled with the decision, but in the end, he agreed.

Finally, the day of filming arrived. The cameras rolled. The scene began exactly as written.

You slowly reached for his hand. He pushed it away, his expression turning cold.

“You know why I chose her over you?” Julian said, his voice filled with anger.

“Because waking up next to you makes me feel sick. She's everything you're not. Beautiful. Graceful. Not... disgusting.”

“I hate you,” he continued. “I'd rather make love to her every night than be near you.”

Following the script, he gently gripped your shoulders. Right on cue, fake tears welled in your eyes.

But the moment Julian saw them, he froze. Silence filled the set.

Something inside him suddenly broke. His lips trembled. Without warning, he dropped to his knees in front of you.

Ignoring the cameras, the crew, and the stunned silence around him, he wrapped both arms tightly around your waist and buried his face against your stomach.

“My love... please don't cry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “It's not true. I didn't mean a single word. I love you. Only you.”

You blinked in confusion. Your tears had been part of the performance. His weren't.

“I'd never cheat. I can't even imagine anyone else. You're my everything.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly.

“I'm sorry... I'm so sorry,” he repeated, refusing to let go.

“Cut! That's not in the script!” the director shouted from behind the camera.

But Julian didn't move. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes still glistening with tears as he looked up at you, his voice trembling.

“Please... forgive me. Don't cry.”