Chapter 2

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows onto Charlotte. Her pale golden hair shone like silk, pearl earrings swaying gently near her cheeks. She wore the latest Chanel beige suit, radiating elegance. I looked down at my own wrinkled cotton dress and suddenly realized how out of place I was. What broke my heart more was feeling Anker release my hand. When his gaze landed on Charlotte, he became different—his shoulders relaxed, even a hint of a smile I rarely saw touched his lips. They stood together like perfect figures stepped out of a fashion magazine. That harmony and understanding reminded me of the classic couples in the old movies Uncle Ben took me to see. A sharp pain suddenly shot through my chest. I had to grip the sofa arm tightly to stay upright. Anker was Wall Street's youngest financial titan, controlling a multi-billion dollar empire. Charlotte was Hollywood's newly crowned Oscar-winning actress, the brightest star on the red carpet. And me… I was just Emma Phillips, who couldn't even form a complete sentence. If it weren't for my ‘accident', they would have been such a perfect match. But sometimes I also remembered: if I hadn't pushed Anker away from that oncoming car, I might still have been someone accomplished too. "Look at Charlotte," Mrs. Ford's voice carried from the dining room. "If you had married her in the first place, I wouldn't have to endure…" "Enough, Mother. Emma is my wife. I don't want to hear that again." When I looked up, I met his warm grey-blue eyes. They held emotions I couldn't decipher. I wanted to smile at him, but tears fell first. Ever since Charlotte became a regular guest at the house, I felt more and more like a ghost. It wasn't that she was superfluous—it was me. The clinking of cutlery echoed from the dining room, mixed with Mrs. Ford and Charlotte's pleasant chatter. I curled up in the shadows of the staircase landing, like a thief afraid of the light. At least I still had Anker's promise. He always held me late at night, whispering ‘always here' in my ear. When twilight dyed the Manhattan skyline deep purple, I startled awake, realizing I'd fallen asleep by the floor-to-ceiling window. My reflection in the glass showed puffy eyes and a crumpled nightgown. "Madam?" Ben knocked softly, startling me. "You haven't eaten for ten hours. The Master specifically instructed…" "Where is Anker?" Ben hesitated, glancing at the smart TV on the wall: "The Master is at the Met Gala charity dinner. He asked you to…" Before he finished, the TV flickered on, broadcasting live coverage of the red carpet spectacle. Anker's Brioni bespoke suit accentuated his perfect shoulders, while Charlotte's Oscar de la Renta haute couture gown glittered under the flashbulbs. They stood together like a perfect fashion magazine spread. "Mr. Ford! Rumors say you're divorcing your current wife to marry Charlotte. Is this true?" Anker hated gossip like poison. Usually, he'd coldly deny it immediately. But this time, Charlotte naturally slipped her arm through his, their fingers interlacing in a gesture that I found intimately familiar.