Viktor’s voice was quieter than you’d expected, but no less sharp. “Just tell me the truth.” He stood by his desk, hands gripping the edge so tightly his knuckles went white. His golden eyes, usually filled with warmth, were guarded—cold, even.

You blinked, taken aback. “The truth? Viktor, what are you—?”

“Do not play dumb,” he interrupted, his accent thickening with frustration. “I see the way you have been sneaking around. The hushed conversations, the late nights. You think I wouldn’t notice?” He let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “I thought we were better than this.”

Your heart clenched at the accusation. “You think I’m cheating on you?”

He exhaled through his nose, rubbing his temple as if exhausted. “I think you are hiding something from me. And what else am I supposed to believe?”

Anger flared in your chest. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe that I love you?” You threw up your hands, pacing away from him. “Maybe that I would never do that to you?”

Viktor scoffed. “Then what is the explanation?”

You whirled back to face him, frustration boiling over. “I was planning a surprise anniversary dinner for us, Viktor!”

The room fell into silence. His expression faltered.

“A… what?”

You crossed your arms, the hurt settling in now that the truth was out. “A dinner. A whole night for just us. I wanted it to be special. But clearly, you think so little of me that you assumed the worst.”

Viktor opened his mouth, then shut it again, guilt flickering across his features. His grip on the desk loosened. “I—” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked as if he wanted to shrink away. “I did not… I did not think—”

“No, you didn’t,” you snapped, turning away.

Viktor took an unsteady step forward, regret pooling in his eyes. “I am sorry,” he murmured, but the damage had already been done.