Twisted Ties of Love (Izabella Salotti and Brett) novel Chapter 587

"Just that."

The foreign director didn't quite grasp the nuance of "just that," but after mulling it over, he figured it was probably that none of the women at the audition had caught his fancy, despite being handpicked.

"You're not satisfied with any of them? Not even one?" The foreign director seemed a bit slow on the uptake, still clueless to Casey's sour expression and naively assuming it was just a matter of not finding the right woman on set.

But in this world, apart from Izabella, there really wasn't anyone who could catch his eye.

"If my wife were here, you'd understand what 'just that' means," Casey said, turning to leave. "You can go now. This country isn't for you. Oh, and... I forgot to remind you, your behavior today violates professional norms. Around here, that sort of thing is against the law."

The director was taken aback. He understood the words, but he almost wished he hadn't. A cold sweat broke out over him. He tried to approach Casey to plead with him but was stopped by the bodyguard at Casey's side.

In such a public setting, he couldn't shout out, so he resorted to sending texts for help.

Only one local director replied to him: "You might as well head back where you came from. If you wanted to collaborate with Mr. Dempsey, you should have done your homework on his family. Everyone knows he has a lovely wife. He's henpecked and proud of it."

"Henpecked? Him?" The foreign director couldn't believe it. To him, that sounded weak.

"You don't get it. Why would he be henpecked if he wasn't in love? Mr. Dempsey adores his wife, and that's common knowledge here."

Back when Casey was at the peak of his career, in the entertainment industry, official relationship announcements were major PR events, let alone for a star like Casey.

Anyone wanting to date would have to think twice, and at that time, the only gossip linked to Casey was about Izabella.

Fan wars were fierce, and the respective fan bases were just short of physical altercations. At that time, Izabella's influence was nothing compared to Casey's, and everyone said she wasn't good enough for him.

Casey simply tweeted one day:

—"I like her. I'm pursuing her. I entered this industry to find her, and now I have. If she leaves me because of so-called 'fans,' I'll leave the entertainment industry forever."

That statement about leaving the industry forever shut everyone up.

If you didn't know this, you could just scroll through all his social media profiles. Every pinned post, every bio read the same:

—"Happily married. Do not disturb."

The love Casey gave to Izabella was blatant favoritism. As he once said, he wasn't here to be reasonable; he was here to stand by her. And Izabella met all the conditions to receive his unwavering support. He would always yield to her, favor her, and make allowances for her.

Casey's love for Izabella, his henpecked status, was no secret, and likewise, everyone knew Izabella's love for Casey.

...

Izabella had put her actual age, sixty-seven, on her documents. She and Casey, sixty-nine, were an old couple now.

Izabella died in the winter of her sixty-seventh year. She loved watching the snow, and as if in a final act of divine favor, she was granted a year of heavy snowfall.

She was already more than content with her life. After all, she was supposed to have left this world at the age of twenty-seven.

To have lived until sixty-seven, surrounded by a loving family, her husband, and their two children, she felt incredibly fortunate.

Before and after their marriage, it was mostly Casey who did the cooking.

After turning fifty, he never let Izabella step foot in the kitchen again.

Despite having a housekeeper who could cook, Casey insisted on doing it himself, knowing Izabella's tastes better than anyone. If he couldn't make it home for lunch, he'd prepare it in advance, so it only needed reheating.

He was so adamant about cooking simply because he was intimately familiar with what Izabella loved to eat. No one understood her preferences more than he did.

But no matter how well he knew her, in recent years, no variety of dishes could entice her to eat much. Illness had suppressed her appetite, leaving her increasingly frail.

Seeing her eat two soup dumplings today brought a smile to Casey's face, and he asked, "Want more?"

Izabella shook her head. "I'm full. I haven't felt this full in a long time."

"I'm sorry," Casey's voice cracked, his nose tingling with the onset of unshed tears.

Izabella lifted her hand, and with the familiarity of decades, she gently pinched his earlobe. "Why apologize? You've taken such good care of me."

She hadn't believed in anything divine, not until at the age of twenty-seven when she perished in a blaze. Then, a being claiming to be a deity appeared, offering her a second chance at life.

From twenty-seven to sixty-seven, those forty years had been a gift. How fortunate she was to have met Casey, to stand by his side through a lifetime, to be blessed with a loving family, and to watch their children grow.

"Today's our anniversary," Izabella said, her gaze drifting to the snowy scene beyond the window, her voice a whisper of nostalgia. "Would you grant me one small wish? I'd like to go for a walk outside."