Eve Windsor stood in the grand bathroom, the soft glow of the chandelier reflecting off the gleaming marble. She leaned against the cool counter, staring blankly at her reflection in the ornate mirror. Her usually vibrant green eyes were now dulled by grief and sorrow, heavy with the weight of another loss.

She pressed a hand against her abdomen. The doctor's words echoed in her mind: "I'm sorry, Eve. It's another miscarriage."

 The pain of her second miscarriage felt like a crushing weight on her chest, a reminder of everything she yearned for but could not have. She felt the tears spill over, but she quickly brushed them away.

Today was supposed to be a celebration—her third marriage anniversary with Nathan. She had spent the last few weeks planning the perfect evening, convinced that perhaps this year would be different.

Maybe this anniversary would finally be the turning point, a moment where everything shifted in her favor. But now, it felt like the universe had conspired against her.

She turned on the faucet, letting the water run as she lost herself in thought. Memories flooded her mind—images of her and Nathan in happier times, laughter echoing in their home, dreams of building a family together.

Each happy memory now felt like a cruel joke. Would they ever have that life? Would they ever be the couple she had hoped to be?

"Eve, hurry up!" a soft knock echoed from the door, breaking her reverie. It was Clara, her devoted housekeeper. "The car is waiting outside. You need to get ready for dinner."

The words pulled her back into reality, reminding her of the night ahead—the extravagant dinner planned at a five-star restaurant.

"I'll be out in a minute!" Eve called, her voice wavering slightly as she wiped her eyes, trying to compose herself.

Eve took a deep breath, splashing cold water on her face to wash away the remnants of her tears. She stared into the mirror again. She wanted to believe that tonight would be different. But as she applied a light layer of makeup, she couldn't shake the feeling that Nathan would remain a stranger.

Yes, Nathan Hawthorne, a powerful media mogul. Although their marriage was solely for business purpose to save his company from bankruptcy, Eve had been hopelessly in love with him.

Clara knocked again, her voice gentle yet firm. "Eve, please. You know how your husband likes to be on time."

Eve closed her eyes, envisioning Nathan seated at the restaurant, his impeccable suit tailored to perfection, his eyes darting around as he waited for her. She felt the familiar ache of longing—the desire for his love, for his attention. It twisted in her stomach.

"I'm coming!" she replied, forcing herself to sound more cheerful than she felt. She stepped back from the mirror and took a moment to steady her breath.

Today, of all days, she couldn't afford to break down. Not when everyone would be watching them, expecting the perfect couple to shine in the limelight.

~~~~~

The restaurant was exquisite, adorned with plush furnishings and soft ambient lighting.

Upon entering, the waiter led her to a table set for two in a quiet corner, a romantic setting meant to celebrate their love.

Eve glanced around, taking in the laughter and joy of other couples, and felt a pang of jealousy. Why couldn't they have that?

Nathan was already seated, his gaze scanning the menu, his demeanor cool and composed.

Eve noted the slight changes in his behavior. He seemed attentive, almost caring, as he pushed the chair in for her and asked about her meal preference with genuine interest.

 As she sat down, he looked up and smiled, his eyes sparkling with what seemed like warmth. "You look stunning tonight, Eve," he said, leaning forward slightly, the candlelight casting a soft glow on his handsome features. "I've been looking forward to this evening."

"Thank you," she replied, her heart fluttering momentarily at the compliment. But deep down, she felt a familiar ache. "It's… nice to finally spend some time together."

"Absolutely. It's been far too long," Nathan said, his tone almost reminiscent. "Remember our first anniversary? We were so excited, dreaming about the future. I can't believe how quickly the time has flown by."

Eve's smile faltered as she recalled that moment. Yes, they had been excited, but it had all been superficial. "Yes, I remember," she said carefully, keeping her voice steady. "It was a different time."

As the waiter poured the wine, Nathan leaned in closer, his voice low and filled with enthusiasm. "Eve, can you believe it's been three years? I still feel like a newly married bridegroom."

Eve smiled politely, her heart aching as she recalled the truth behind their years together. "Yes, it's hard to believe," she replied, her voice steady, though her mind swirled with conflicting emotions.

"Remember our honeymoon?" Nathan continued, his eyes sparkling with nostalgia. "The sun setting over the ocean, the way we danced on the beach under the stars? Those were the best days of my life!"

Eve pushed her food around her plate, the exquisite flavors lost on her mouth as she wrestled with her emotions. The ambiance was lovely, the soft music in the background, yet she felt as though she was drowning in a sea of loneliness.

She bit her lip, forcing herself to keep a straight face. "It was beautiful, yes," she said, remembering the truth: how Nathan had spent most of the trip glued to his phone, distracted by work, while she tried to create moments that would bring them closer.

"And the Christmas party at my parents' house? We were the envy of everyone!" he boasted, laughing lightly. "Everyone talked about how perfect we looked together, like something out of a fairy tale!"

Eve's heart sank at the memory of that night. She remembered the forced smiles, the strained conversations, the way Nathan had barely spoken to her, choosing instead to entertain his parents' guests while she stood alone, clutching her glass of wine and wishing he would acknowledge her presence. "Yes, we certainly made quite the impression," she replied, her tone laced with bittersweet resignation.

"Exactly! And what about our trip to Paris? Just you and me, strolling along the Seine, hand in hand. I remember thinking how lucky I was to have you by my side," Nathan continued, his voice warm and filled with emotion.

She recalled the truth of that trip—the long, lonely hours while Nathan was busy with meetings, the moments when she had ventured out on her own, feeling like a ghost in a city that was supposed to be romantic. "It was lovely," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But it was also a bit lonely."

"Lonely?" Nathan frowned, clearly confused. "How could it be lonely? We were in the city of love! I thought we had the most amazing time."

"Right," Eve echoed, her voice hollow. She remembered countless evenings spent alone, waiting for him to return home, trying to convince herself that the quiet dinners and the silence were merely phases they would overcome.

"Are you feeling okay?" Nathan asked, his brow slightly furrowed as he peered at her over the candlelight.

Eve hesitated, the truth clawing at her throat. She thought of the miscarriage, the raw grief still fresh and aching inside her. "I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Just a little tired, I guess."

Nathan shifted in his seat, a playful glint in his eyes. "And let's not forget the charity gala coming up next week. I can't wait for us to grace the event together!"

Eve forced a smile, her heart heavy. "Yes, the charity gala," she replied, feeling the weight of his words. It was all for show, wasn't it? "I'm sure it will be lovely."

"It's going to be the talk of the town," he said, his enthusiasm unwavering. "Everyone will be looking at us. We'll be the star of the evening, just like we always have been."

Eve forced herself to respond, but her heart wasn't in it. All she could think about was how she had tried so hard to please him, to be the perfect wife, yet here they were—two people trapped in a loveless marriage, pretending everything was fine.

"You know, the best days of my life have been with you," he declared, raising his glass for a toast. "To us, and to many more adventures together!"

Eve clinked her glass against his, her heart aching with each hollow word. "To us," she echoed, her smile strained as she fought against the tears that threatened to spill.

For Nathan, it was all about appearances, about maintaining the illusion of a perfect marriage.

"Trust me, Eve. The best is yet to come," he said, his tone almost too enthusiastic, as if he was trying to convince himself just as much as her. "I genuinely believe we have so much more happiness ahead of us!"

"Maybe," Eve said softly, her heart heavy with doubt. She watched him, his charming smile radiating confidence, and couldn't help but wonder if he really believed the words he was saying. Did he truly think they were happy, or was he simply pretending for the world to see?

But, deep down, a small voice whispered a hope—maybe, just maybe, if she could hold onto that hope a little longer, her love might one day break through the walls he had built around his heart.