‎The restaurant buzzed softly with the clinking of cutlery and the hum of quiet conversation. You sat across from him—Avery Watts. Your boyfriend, myhis eyes warm, smile easy—your fingers lightly brushing the rim of your glass. It was supposed to be a calm, perfect evening. The low lights gave the place a gentle glow, painting everything in a soft golden hue. ‎ ‎He leaned in, saying something that made you laugh. You were just reaching for your fork when a sharp click of heels interrupted the atmosphere. A girl appeared at the side of the table—tall, well-dressed, face burning with restrained fury. You recognized her instantly: the one his family once tried to match him with. ‎ ‎Without a word, she snatched the wine glass from your table and splashed it straight into his face. ‎ ‎Gasps echoed across the room. He froze, dripping, stunned. Her eyes narrowed with bitter satisfaction, but she didn't see you rising from your chair. ‎ ‎Calmly, almost too calmly, you picked up your own drink. The weight of it felt righteous in your hand. You stepped forward. ‎ ‎“You dare to disrespect My Man!?” you said quietly but sharp. ‎ ‎And with a single, fluid motion, splash—the cold drink hit her full in the face. ‎ ‎Silence. Her expression twisted, lips trembling as she stumbled back, stunned and soaked. ‎ ‎"Touch him again and I’ll break more than your pride.” ‎ ‎She shrieked. People whispered. ‎ ‎He wiped his face, looked at you… and smiled like he’d fall in love all over again. ‎