Misunderstanding

Emma chattered on and on about boutiques and cafés as Anne focused on the very moment. 'It's was too much, but she would politely smile, laugh here and there, but her thoughts were engrossed in Julian and Sophia's memory. That moment kept replaying in her mind. Sophia had her arms around Julian, and he hadn't pushed her away right away. She thought about Emma knowing anything? She was only thinking briefly and threw it away; this was not the time.

Later during the afternoon, while walking through a pretty little boutique close to their homes, Emma held up a nice-flowing summer dress and turned to Anne. "What do you think? Too much?"

Anne tilted her head a bit and managed a chuckle. "It's perfect for you."

Emma grinned and faced the mirror. "You should try on something too. Let's find something cute. You've been hiding under too many neutrals lately."

Anne rolled her eyes good-naturedly but allowed herself to be towed toward a rack of pastel blouses.

With the afternoon waning, Anne was warming to the whole experience. Emma brought that sort of heat and welcome to the time.

They hung out, talking about silly things over lunch-fashion, food, even a hilarious slice of Emma's university life. When the session started to get really fun for Anne, her phone buzzed.

She looked down and froze. A message from Julian. 

 *"Can we talk when you get back? Please."*

Her heart sank. The emotions she'd managed to tuck away for a few hours flared up once again.

Emma noted it quickly. "Is it him?" she whispered.

Anne looked up, astonished. "What?"

"Julian," Emma said with a voice that was gentle yet somehow direct. "I could see your face."

Anne heaved a sigh, "Yeah... he wants to talk when I'm back."

Emma reached out and gently squeezed her hand. "Look, I don't know everything, but I know Julian. He can be an idiot sometimes, but... he doesn't let just anyone close. You've gotten under his skin more than he'll admit."

Back at the mansion, Julian paced the study, waiting. He hadn't seen Anne since the morning, and guilt sat heavy in his chest. He didn't know she had followed him or what she had seen. To him, she had just... disappeared.

He heard the front door open and close, then footsteps echo across the hallway. Anne entered, looking more composed than he expected. Elegant. Distant.

"Anne," he started, stepping toward her.

She raised a hand, halting him mid-stride. "You said you wanted to talk." 

He swallowed hard. 

"What happened "? He asked confused. 

"You said you wanted to talk". She said. 

"Yes. More like what happened earlier. Sophia..."

"I saw everything, Julian." 

His stomach dropped. "You... what?" 

"I followed you," she confessed, crossing her arms. "I saw her hug you. I saw how you didn't push her away." 

Julian looked stunned. "Anne, it wasn't what it looked like." 

"Then what was it, Julian? Because it looked like you still had something with her. It looked like you lied to me." 

He stepped closer the urgency in his voice increasing. "I didn't lie. She ambushed me, Anne. I would really have sworn she wouldn't be there. She called about something important-it was something I figured would drag you into drama that is totally unrelated to you." 

Anne bit out bitterly, "It has everything to do with me, Julian. I am your wife, for all intents and purposes, even if it is a contract." 

Julian flinched. The way she said just a contract twisted something inside him. 

"She brought that up, too," he said after a pause. 

Anne frowned. "What do you mean?" 

"She said you're nothing more than a cover story. That the marriage is fake, and we're doing all this to boost my image. I don't think she knows the whole truth yet." 

Anne's breath caught, but she forced herself to stay composed. 

"And what did you say about that?" she asked, in a voice that was low and unreadable. 

Julian hesitated and finally said, "I denied knowing what she was talking about. But that happened after she hugged me. I didn't expect the hug, Anne. I didn't return it. You have to believe me." 

Silence stretched between them. Then Anne crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "So, just to be clear...our marriage is fake, but Sophia is wrong for calling it that." 

Julian ran a hand through his hair in a fit of frustration. "It's complicated." 

"No," Anne said quietly. "It's not. It's only complicated because we keep pretending it's not exactly what she said it is." 

He looked at her, helpless for a moment. "I never meant to make you feel like part of the act." 

"But I am," she said. "We signed up for this. That's what we agreed to." 

Julian stepped closer, but something in her expression stopped him again. He knew better than to push now. 

"I'm sorry, Anne. For how it happened. For not handling it better. No one deserved that." 

She gave a slow nod. "Thank you for telling me." 

Julian watched her for a long beat, eyes clouded with things he still couldn't say. Then he sighed, adjusting his stance like he was shifting into business mode-the version of him Anne had first met. "That being said," he began, "we need to up our game." Anne raised a brow. "What?" "Sophia's not going to stop with one visit. If she starts spreading rumors-about you, about us-it could be more damaging than you think. Investors, board members, even the press... they're all still watching. We can't afford cracks in the story." Anne's posture stiffened, her jaw tightened, but she stayed quiet. Julian continued, "So starting tomorrow, we're going out. Publicly. Shopping, dinners, maybe even that gala next weekend. People need to see us together-affectionate, united. Like a real couple." Anne studied him silently, her face unreadable. He misread it as hesitation. "Look, I'm not asking you to fake anything you're not comfortable with, but we have to be convincing. Hand-holding. Small touches. Maybe even a kiss if the paparazzi are around." Anne blinked, slowly, then nodded once. "Okay." Just that. No argument. No sarcasm. No emotion. That somehow unsettled him more than if she had yelled. 

 She turned to leave but lingered at the door and said just above a whisper, "Next time, don't wait for damage control before you talk to me." And then she was gone. Julian stood alone again, shoulders sword across the bones, fists clenched. He'd handled it like a CEO, like just another crisis to manage. But it didn't feel like a victory. It felt more like he had just shoved her further away.