Love and Struggle

I always knew my position in his life. I realized that I was only a piece in his game, a tool to expand his corporate empire, even before the ink on our marriage certificate dried. Knowing the truth, however, did not lessen the hurt as the rejections continued, one after another, leaving my already wounded heart with even more gashes.

It seems like yesterday as I recall our first meeting. The Albrecht Estate was very grandiose, a huge contrast from the humble upbringing I had experienced. The foyer's chandelier glistened like a million stars, illuminating the shining marble flooring with a chilly glow. And there he was, my future husband Lucas Albrecht, the heir apparent to the Albrecht dynasty. I felt my skin crawl as his cold, blue eyes evaluated me with a clinical detachment. This was a purchase, not a case of love at first sight.

"You understand why you're here, don't you?" His words cut through the quiet like a dagger, just as frigid as his gaze.

I nodded, my throat tightening with nervousness such that I could not speak. I got it exactly. This union brought together two influential families via a merger. There was no room for love in our arrangement. However, I was unaware at the time of just how painful that lack of affection would be.

The weeks passed, and then the months, and it became brutally obvious what had happened to me. More unpleasant than obvious abuse was the flippant disdain with which Lucas regarded me. He was never home; he was either on business trips or entertaining guests at opulent events, and I was just his attractive face to nod and smile at. He was aloof and preoccupied with his business dealings and discussions while he was at home. Though even the house staff knew my status in the Albrecht home was precarious at best, they nonetheless treated me with careful regard.

The first serious blow occurred during a dinner gathering we threw for a few of Lucas's business partners. I had devoted hours to getting ready, selecting the ideal outfit, and making sure everything was immaculate. Foolishly, I believed that maybe, just maybe, he would see me for who I was. But as the evening wore on, it was evident that he could not see me. All of his attention was on his guests, and, unsettlingly, all of his attention was on one lady in particular: his ex-girlfriend Sophie.

I saw them laughing together while having a close-knit talk with bowed heads. I saw how his hand would linger on her arm and how he smiled at her, a grin I had never seen aimed toward me, and it caused a terrible knot to grow in my gut. Maybe the visitors didn't notice, but I did. I could feel the electricity between them, and it broke my heart in a way that mixed hopelessness and envy.

I addressed him after the visitors had gone. I was having trouble keeping my voice steady, and my hands were shaking. What are you doing, Lucas? Even though you're married to me, you flirted with Sophie the whole night!"

His eyes narrowed as he spoke, his answer fast and savage. Claire, stop flattering yourself. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more. I won't pretend to be anything else.

His remarks resembled a verbal blow to the face. He turned and left, leaving me alone in the large, empty dining room, and I remained there, dumbfounded. It wasn't simply an emotional rejection; it also physically felt like a heavy weight pushing on my chest and restricting my breathing. Never before had I felt so little and unimportant.

Rejections kept coming, each more hurtful than the previous. Without even trying, Lucas had a way of making me feel unworthy. I would worry if he would ever return when he would be silent for days or even weeks at a time. Upon his return, it seemed as if nothing had occurred, as though I were only an item of furniture that could be moved or disregarded at pleasure.

The worst, however, happened when he began to see Sophie more often. I could tell how she continued to want him by the way she looked at him. Why wouldn't she, too? Lucas was rich, powerful, and unreachable—everything she could ever hope for. The fact that he allowed her, however, wounded the most. I was pushed more and farther to the side as he let her into our house and his life.