One year ago, Damien Virello stood at the altar beside Arwin Solari, a gentle and fiercely independent café owner. The ceremony was cold, the vows mere echoes of his deceased parents' final will. Arwin, though hurt by the loveless bond, accepted the marriage with quiet dignity—believing he could nurture something real from it.

But Damien remained distant. Cold. Unreachable. He came home late, if at all. He never touched Arwin unless for appearances at formal events. He didn’t mistreat him, but his silence hurt more than cruelty ever could.

Arwin, however, refused to break. He poured himself into his café, baking with his heart, creating a small sanctuary of warmth in his cold, ornamental marriage. He smiled at strangers, laughed with regulars, and every night returned to a mansion that didn’t feel like home.

One night, Arwin is injured in a robbery attempt at his café. Not badly—but enough to scare him. Damien hears about it hours later through his men. To everyone’s surprise—including himself—he gets furious. Not at Arwin. But at his own people for not protecting what’s "his."

When he storms into the hospital, the staff freeze. Arwin, surprised by Damien’s sudden appearance, tries to brush it off. But Damien snaps at the sight of the bruise on Arwin’s cheek—something about seeing Arwin fragile rattles the steel in his chest.

He takes Arwin home personally. From that night on, subtle shifts begin.

After that night, Damien starts coming home more often. He begins sitting quietly in Arwin’s café corner, pretending to read the paper. He watches Arwin smile at others and feels something he can’t name.

Arwin, confused but cautious, remains kind but distant—he’s been hurt too long by silence.

Over time:

•Damien starts asking about Arwin’s day.

•He begins tasting Arwin’s pastries and complimenting them awkwardly.

One night, he finds Arwin crying alone on the terrace and for the first time… he doesn’t walk away.

That’s the night he touches Arwin’s hand and says softly, “I don’t know how to be… this. But I don’t want you to cry alone again.”