I've seen countless couples sit across from me, their hands intertwined, their voices carefully measured. They come seeking guidance—some for financial advice, others for relationship insight, and some, unknowingly, for permission to keep lying to themselves.
Simon and Claire were different.
At least, that's what I thought.
They were the kind of couple that made people believe in love. Both were attractive in a way that didn't seem accidental—Simon with his clean-cut confidence and Claire with her graceful, effortless beauty. Together, they looked like a magazine cover, the kind of pair that made singles reevaluate their standards and couples question their own chemistry.
They weren't just good-looking. They were intelligent, ambitious, and deeply in sync. They finished each other's sentences, laughed at the same moments, and had that easy confidence that only comes when two people truly understand each other.
Or at least, when two people know how to appear that way.
I met them during one of my relationship and financial seminars. The event was for young professionals navigating both love and money—because nothing tested a relationship quite like deciding who should pay for what. It was meant to be an interactive discussion, but Simon and Claire had turned it into a showcase.
"This is why we have separate savings but a shared investment account," Simon had said, his voice carrying across the room like he was giving a TED Talk.
Claire, seated beside him, smiled knowingly. "It keeps us independent but aligned. We always discuss big purchases together."
I had seen nods of approval ripple through the audience. Young couples took mental notes. Some even glanced at their partners as if realizing they had been doing things wrong all along.
I watched, intrigued.
They were polished, almost too polished. No hesitation, no awkward silences—just a well-rehearsed duet of mutual admiration.
At the end of the seminar, they approached me.
"Elliot, right?" Simon extended a firm handshake. "We really enjoyed your talk. Some of the points you made about financial transparency were exactly what we've been practicing."
Claire nodded enthusiastically. "We're actually getting married next year. We've been thinking about attending one of your private sessions, just to make sure we're completely aligned before the wedding."
I should've said no. Not because they weren't a good fit—quite the opposite. They were too perfect. And I knew from experience that perfection was either a façade or a ticking time bomb.
But I was curious.
So I agreed.
Their first session was at my office, a minimalist space designed to make people feel comfortable but not too comfortable. I wanted honesty, not rehearsed performances.
Simon and Claire sat across from me, their hands intertwined like they were anchoring each other.
"So," I began, "let's start with something simple. What's the biggest disagreement you've ever had?"
A loaded question.
Most couples hesitated, sorting through memories, weighing what was safe to say and what wasn't.
Simon and Claire? They barely flinched.
Claire spoke first. "I think the biggest one was about my job offer last year."
Simon nodded. "She was offered a position overseas. A significant pay raise, but it meant long-distance for at least a year."
"And how did you handle it?"
Claire squeezed Simon's hand. "We talked. A lot. We laid out the pros and cons, the financial impact, and how we'd manage the distance."
Simon smiled at her. "At the end of the day, we realized that what mattered most was staying together. We agreed that if she wanted to take it, we'd make it work. But ultimately, she turned it down."
I raised an eyebrow. "That was your decision, Claire?"
She didn't even hesitate. "Yes. It wasn't worth the strain it would put on us. Money is important, but our relationship is more important."
I nodded, scribbling a note even though I didn't need to. Perfect answer. Too perfect.
"Do you ever regret it?"
Silence. A flicker of something passed over Claire's face, something Simon didn't see because he was watching me.
Then, just as quickly, she shook her head. "Not at all."
Liar.
Simon squeezed her hand. "I always tell her, we're building a future together. Any sacrifices we make now are for something greater."
They smiled at each other, and for a moment, I almost believed them.
But something felt off.
People don't make sacrifices without consequences. Even the happiest couples carry unseen weight.
Claire's expression, for the briefest second, had shown something else—something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.
Regret.
Not loud. Not screaming. But there. Lingering beneath her carefully chosen words.
Simon hadn't noticed. Or maybe he had, and he had convinced himself it didn't matter.
I leaned back in my chair, my interest deepening.
Simon and Claire were a model couple. The kind people aspired to be. The kind people envied.
But perfection was a fragile thing. And love, despite its best disguises, always had cracks beneath the surface.