The Wishful Bride

Episode3: The Perfect Wife

"Perfection is easy to believe when no one sees what happens behind closed doors."

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The Sterling mansion had always been beautiful at night. Its golden lights reflected flawlessly against the tall glass windows, and the expensive decorations displayed in every corner made the entire estate look like a place straight out of a dream. That was what everyone thought, at least. The world believed Elaris Vaughn Sterling possessed the kind of life most women spent their lifetimes wishing for—a wealthy husband, a stunning home, and a marriage that looked pristine from the outside. But no one knew that sometimes, the most breathtaking facades hid the absolute ugliest truths.

Standing in front of the vanity mirror, Elaris stared blankly at her reflection. The woman looking back at her felt like a complete stranger. Her makeup was flawless, her hair was styled to perfection, and the expensive white gown hugged her body elegantly, forcing her into the exact mold of the perfect wife Damien expected her to be. Her fingers slowly rose, gently tracing the side of her face where a faint purple mark lay hidden beneath heavy layers of concealer. The dress distracted the eyes, the makeup covered the skin, and a practiced smile would inevitably hide everything else. She had become far too good at hiding.

A soft knock cut through the quiet room, followed by the sound of her name. "Elaris."

Her fingers froze instantly against her skin. Even after everything, her heart still instinctively reacted to his voice. This was the man who had once made her feel safe, the one who promised her that nothing in the world would ever hurt her. Now, he was the sole reason she had learned how to camouflage her pain.

"Come in," she answered softly, dropping her hand.

The door opened, and Damien stepped inside. For a split second, Elaris forgot how to breathe because he looked exactly like the man she had fallen in love with seven years ago. Clad in a perfectly tailored black suit, he carried himself with a calm expression and an effortless confidence in his eyes. He was the kind of man everyone admired. The kind no one would ever believe was capable of destroy someone behind closed doors.

His gaze shifted toward her, softening just a fraction. "You look beautiful."

They were simple words—the exact phrase that used to make her heart race and bring a genuine smile to her lips without hesitation. Tonight, they just felt hollow.

"Thank you," she replied, keeping her voice even.

Damien walked closer, stopping just behind her. "You remember tonight is important, right?"

She nodded, meeting his eyes in the mirror. "The investors."

"Not just investors," he corrected quietly, his tone smooth and controlled. "People who matter."

Elaris lowered her gaze. People who mattered. Because in Damien's world, reputation was everything. No matter what happened behind closed doors, the Sterling name had to remain flawless.

Damien reached out, his fingers surprisingly warm as he carefully adjusted the diamond necklace around her throat. The gesture was gentle, almost affectionate. Anyone looking through a window would think it was a display of pure love. But Elaris knew the truth. Sometimes, the exact same hands that held you with such care could become the ones that caused the most agonizing pain.

"You don't have to be nervous," Damien murmured.

"I'm not."

He caught her eyes through the glass. "You always say that."

A heavy silence followed, mostly because he was right. She always said she was fine. She said it when she was hurting, when she was terrified, and when she wanted nothing more than to break down and cry. It was always easier to lie than to try and explain a truth he refused to acknowledge.

Damien's expression shifted, a rare hint of vulnerability crossing his features. "I know things haven't been easy lately. I know I've made mistakes."

Elaris looked up at him, and against her own better judgment.

For one foolish second...

She believed him...

No matter how much he damaged her, a pathetic part of her still desperately searched for the old Damien—the one who used to surprise her with coffee every morning, who waited outside her office during late nights, and who looked at her like she was the only person in the universe.

"I just want tonight to be good," he added.

Whatever fragile hope had flickered inside her vanished the moment he said those words.

Forcing a bright, seamless smile, Elaris stood up. "Of course." Because what else could she possibly say? Not tonight. Not when the world was watching, and certainly not when his reputation was on the line.

The grand event hall was already filled with investors, prominent business owners, and influential figures, all eager for a moment of Damien Sterling's attention. The second they stepped through the entrance.

Another flash.

Another smile.

Another flawless act.

Guests greeted them one after another. As the perfect couple had officially arrived.

"Mr. Sterling."

"Mrs. Sterling."

Damien slid his hand possessively around her waist, a gesture that looked protective, loving, and deeply romantic to the crowd. Elaris leaned into him, smiling brightly for the cameras. It was a smile she had practiced in front of mirrors for years one that reached her lips flawlessly but never quite touched the dead look in her eyes.

"Smile," Damien whispered against her hair, his grip tightening just a fraction.

She already was, but she knew exactly what he meant. Smile better. Smile like nothing happened yesterday.

So she did, executing the duties of a perfect wife with absolute precision. She stood by his side, laughed at the appropriate jokes, greeted the right people, and played her part in the grand theater of his life.

A well-dressed woman approached them, her expression glowing with admiration. "Elaris, you look absolutely stunning tonight."

"Thank you, Victoria," Elaris replied smoothly.

"You really are so lucky," the woman continued, sighing softly. "Damien is such an incredible man. Your marriage is truly inspiring."

The words hit Elaris like a physical blow, bruising her far deeper than any physical strike. Lucky. That was the word everyone threw at her. She was lucky because she wore diamonds, lucky because she lived in a sprawling mansion, and lucky because she belonged to a powerful man. Nobody ever bothered to look past the jewelry to ask if she was actually happy. Nobody ever asked if she was okay.

Elaris kept her smile locked in place. "Thank you. That means a lot."

Lying no longer felt difficult.

That frightened her the most.

Later in the evening, she stood near the edge of the room, watching Damien speak with a group of high-profile investors from a distance. Everyone listened intently when he spoke. Everyone respected him. They saw the brilliant architect of a financial empire, completely blind to the monster who made his wife dread the sound of footsteps in her own home.

But as Elaris watched him, the sharpest ache in her chest came from a realization she hated herself for: a small part of her still admired him. After the tears, after the bruises, and after every broken promise, she could still look at his silhouette and remember the man he used to be. The man who had held her hand tightly in the pouring rain and swore that she was his entire world.

The man who had promised, 'I will never hurt you.'

It was a beautiful, sacred promise—and the single biggest lie she had ever chosen to believe