She slapped a photo onto the table.
"Look. It's her."
The woman in the photograph looked incredibly pure—two shallow, charming dimples framing her smile. It wasn't just men; even women would feel an instinctive pull toward her upon first glance.
"This is Chloe Reid," my friend explained breathlessly. "Nathaniel's 'The One That Got Away.' Your husband treasures her memory like a maniac."
"Four years ago, Chloe suddenly vanished without a trace. Nathaniel searched for her obsessively, hovering between life and death in his grief."
A shaking finger jabbed at the photo. "It turns out your husband specifically hunts for girls who resemble her to express his longing."
After dropping this bombshell, her expression softened. "Lily, don't take this to heart. This is just my analysis. I could be wrong."
"Your analysis is correct." My voice stayed level. "But you only got half of it right."
"Huh? Does he have some other motive?"
I didn't answer directly. Instead, I lifted my face and looked her dead in the eye.
"Do you think *I* look like Chloe Reid?"
She froze. Her gaze swept over my features, eyes widening in slow horror.
"It's always darkest under the lamp! I was so focused on those other girls that I completely overlooked you. Yes! You look *too* much like her! Those other women are maybe fifty percent alike. You? You're at least seventy percent."
She leaned in, urgency sharpening her voice. "What did you mean earlier? About me only being half right?"
My expression hardened. "From now on, don't ask that question."
"Why?"
"I don't want to drag you into the crossfire. Staying alive is better than knowing the truth."
A nervous laugh escaped her. "That's a bit dramatic, isn't it?"
I said nothing more. I simply picked up my tools and resumed my work.
*Skree-skree.*
Listening to that bone-chilling sound, she left, her brow furrowed in thought.
Time passed quickly.
Then, one day, Nathaniel came home buzzing with excitement.
This man—who never sang—was actually humming a tune. In the middle of the night, words tumbled from his lips in sleep.
"Heaven does not fail the willing... I'm finally getting what I wished for."
Lying beside him in the darkness, I sneered.
*The fish is about to bite the hook.*
Before dawn the next morning, he jolted awake to the noise of my grinding.
"Lily, are you possessed?" He rubbed his temples, irritation bleeding into his voice. "If you want something made, just send it to a jeweler. Why go to all this trouble?"
"It has more meaning this way."
His mind was elsewhere; he couldn't be bothered to decipher my words. Muttering "What a mystery," he got up and went about his business.
A few days later, Nathaniel appeared on the popular TV program, *Social Focus*.
A female reporter was conducting a face-to-face interview.
"Mr. Vance, for years you've been waiting for the girl you love. Congratulations on her return to your side. However, you are already married. May I ask what your plans are regarding your current marriage?"
Nathaniel's eyes reddened on cue. "What I have with Lily Fox is a marriage; what I have with Chloe Reid is true love. Marriage is sometimes a helpless obligation, but true love... that is eternal."
The reporter looked visibly moved. "In today's restless society, to see such devotion... it truly must be celebrated."
Almost immediately, an article was published online.
**[Searching for the Shadow of Love: The Billionaire's Heartbreaking Reunion.]**
The reporter used flowery, emotive language to paint a touching love story. The public reaction was massive.
Countless women commented that good men like Nathaniel Vance—devoted, loyal lovers—were a dying breed. He was hailed as a model for all men.
My best friend stormed into my house.
Her face was twisted with anger. "So this was his plan all along! And what does that make you, Lily? A placeholder?"
She paced the room. "Since he doesn't love you, why the hell did he marry you in the first place?"
