On the Divorce Reality Show

"Otherwise, who’s going to believe you really want to divorce me? They’ll just think you’re acting again.

“Use your head. I can’t guide you every step of the way."

I opened my mouth, wanting to say something, but a deep sense of helplessness pressed down on me.

In the end, I said nothing.

For the past two years, I had been trapped in this feeling, as if there was an invisible net tightly wrapped around me.

I knew I had to break free, yet I could never muster the strength to do it.

When my own energy ran low, I needed something external to push me forward.

The director was a young guy, still untainted by the cynicism of the industry.

He reviewed the footage.

"The emotions came through well. As expected from a seasoned actor."

While Hector was doing his solo interview, I didn’t feel like listening and waited outside instead.

My phone rang.

It was Anne.

I was about to decline the call but hesitated for a moment before answering.

"He’ll be done with his interview soon. Just call him later."

"Mrs. Sinclair, I’m not looking for him. I’m looking for you."

"For me?"

"Yes. Mr. Sinclair has never been away from me for several days in a row, so I have a couple of things to remind you about."

Anne’s tone was soft and polite.

I glanced at the door just as Hector walked out, then put the call on speaker.

"Go ahead, Ms. Lane."

Her elegant voice carried through the hallway.

"First, Mr. Sinclair’s throat inflammation has been acting up. I put his medication in the inner pocket of his black bag. Make sure he doesn’t eat anything cold or spicy—it’ll irritate his throat.

“Second, he sometimes gets migraines at night. You’ll need to massage his temples for ten minutes to relieve it. If you’re not sure how, you can call me anytime.

"Mrs. Sinclair, did you get all that?"

Before I could respond, Hector snatched the phone from my hand and spoke coldly.

"Anne, who told you to call Suzy?"

Silence fell on the other end of the line.

I suddenly found it amusing, and the more I thought about it, the more I actually laughed.

Hector looked at me, his gaze assessing, tinged with confusion.

In the past, I would have thrown a fit—snapping at Anne in anger, crying to Hector, and making sure he knew how hurt I was.

But Anne was always composed, her explanations gentle and elegant, making me look like a complete lunatic.

"She meant well. You’re scaring her with that tone."

I took my phone back from his hand and hung up without hesitation before heading straight to the interview room.

Next was the joint interview.

As I pushed open the door, Hector was still standing by the window in the hallway, unmoving.

Then, out of nowhere, he spoke.

"You don’t mind?"

I turned to look at him.

"Mind what?"

A flicker of frustration crossed his otherwise composed expression.

"Nothing. Go in."

…

The director told us we could answer freely, and the production team would later edit out the usable parts.

"First question—what's the most touching thing your partner has done for you?"

Hector sat back casually, exuding his usual composed and refined public persona.

With a warm smile, he answered, "Marriage is about a lifetime together and mutual support. It’s built on countless small moments rather than a single grand gesture.

“If it relied on just one touching act, the foundation would be fragile and unstable. So, for me, there isn’t one most touching moment—just countless warm ones."

The director frowned slightly, then turned to me.

"What about you, Ms. Suzy? Do you feel the same?"