My Husband Only Has Eyes for Another

When I find out about that woman's existence, it turns out that they've been dating for a very long time.

Simon Jensen protects her very well. Even though he's already attended banquets with her and has introduced her to all of his friends, I still have yet to see any of her photos. Heck, I don't even know her name.

If it weren't for the fact that Simon was unable to resist that woman's coquettish pleading and brought her to the fashion show press conference as a brand investor, I'd probably remain in the dark forever.

At this moment, I stare at Simon from far away, who's currently gazing at his lover standing on the runway. There's a hint of a gentle smile in his eyes.

The camera flashes keep clicking. One of the reporters can't resist asking, "Mr. Jensen, are you a fan of Angela Stewart as well?"

Simon never averts his gaze from Angela. He replies, "No. She's the love of my life."

So, it turns out the cold and aloof Simon is capable of doting on a young woman to this degree.

I spin the dull wedding ring around my ring finger subconsciously. That's when I realize how meaningless this marriage actually is.

It was pouring outside by the time the fashion show press conference wrapped up.

Simon Jensen walked out of the venue. He was visibly taken aback when he saw me. Then, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

I'd never told him that the designs for this fashion show he'd invested in were actually mine.

In the nine years of our marriage, I'd been nothing more than a stay-at-home wife in his eyes. But in truth, I was also a fashion designer with a bit of renown in the industry.

It just so happened that the organizer of this particular fashion show had personally sent me an invitation.

Just then, Angela Stewart walked out as well. She wore an extravagant runway gown, and her cheeks were flushed. She'd obviously had quite a bit to drink.

"Simon," she called softly.

The moment Simon heard her voice, he immediately turned back and instinctively reached out to steady her by the arm, his eyes full of concern. "How much did you drink?"

She leaned her head against his shoulder and said cutely, "I had a few extra toasts with the organizers. They said they want me back as the headliner for next season's show."

Simon hurriedly shrugged off his jacket and carefully draped it over her shoulders, saying gently, "You don't have to push yourself so hard. I've got more than enough money to keep you set for several lifetimes."

A cold draft blew over me, and I let out a quiet, bitter snort.

Back in the day, Simon's startup had crashed and burned. His company had needed five million dollars to come back from the dead.

At the time, luxury brands and fashion show organizers had been fighting over the designs for my original collection. Without hesitation, I'd sold the designs and even made one request to the designer—that Simon had to be listed as a sponsor.

The organizer already had a designer he wanted to promote, so to seal the deal, he gave me a condition in return—my identity as the true designer would never be disclosed.

Later, that season's show became a huge success. As the sponsor, Simon managed to revive his failing company and officially break into the fashion industry.

With my help, he'd climbed step by step until he became a leading figure in the industry. Now, his name carried serious weight in this circle.

I'd built his brilliant life, yet his light had never once shone on me.

Angela curled her hand into a loose fist and thumped it on Simon's chest, pretending to be reproachful as she chided, "It's not like you don't know me. I'm not some delicate little thing."