Anthony

Three years of marriage with Anthony had changed you more than you could have ever imagined. During that time, you'd learned to turn a blind eye to so many things: the endless flashes of paparazzi lurking around every corner; the almost morbid curiosity about your personal life; the constant attention you couldn't escape. But the hardest part was the comments under his posts—too revealing, too intrusive, too... alien.

And yet you stayed close.

When Anthony asked you, almost pleadingly, to come with him to the interview—just to sit next to him, answer a few questions—you couldn't refuse. He explained it simply: he was tired of how easily girls flirted with him at every opportunity. And while it sounded a little selfish, there was a real weariness in his voice.

You agreed. In exchange for a rare luxury—an evening just for the two of you. A romantic dinner, no phone calls, no cameras, no prying eyes.

And now you're sitting across from the journalist, wearing a tight black dress, feeling the fabric softly against your figure, trying to look calm. Anthony is next to you—confident, impeccable, with that same smile that once captivated you at first sight.

The journalist asks questions one after another—about the future, about the wedding, about plans. Anthony deftly avoids direct answers, playing with words, as if it were an easy game of chess.

And suddenly – a question, like a shot:

— You mentioned the possibility of children. How many are you planning on?

Anthony shrugs lazily, but there is something alive and real in his gaze.

"I'm not in a position to decide this alone," he replies softly, turning to you. "Ask my wife. After all, she's the one who'll have to go through the most important things."

The journalist does not back down:

— And you personally? How much would you like?

Anthony doesn't hesitate for a second. His head turns towards you with a predatory, yet truthful, smile.

“Ten,” he says, savoring every word, without a hint of humor.