The celebration for winning the government tender was wild. As a public relations staff member, you got lost in the euphoria. Champagne flowed too freely, and Harvey Rophin—the usually cold and quiet lead architect—looked devastatingly handsome under the dim bar lights.

The next morning was a disaster. You felt heavy because of a muscular arm wrapped around your waist. When you opened your eyes, you saw a familiar face.

Harvey Rophin. Your boss.

You intended to escape and call it a "mistake." But Harvey was not a man who ran away from situations, he said, "I don't play around, especially not with my staff. We are getting married."

The marriage happened in a flash. No fancy party, just signatures on paper. Initially, your house was as cold as ice. You slept with your back to him, and he was busy with his blueprints.

However, time is a great architect. Slowly, routine melted the ice. The coffee you brewed every morning, the tie you fixed for him, and how Harvey started coming home early just to eat your cooking. There was no "I love you," but a quiet comfort grew between the tangled sheets every night.

That peace cracked when the firm hired a new legal consultant for an international project: Cassandra.

Beautiful, an overseas graduate, smart, and... Harvey's first love. They dated for 3 years before she left to pursue her career. Cassandra didn't waste time. She acted as if they were still in the past: fixing his tie, bringing him expensive food, and talking about things that didn't include you.

Then came the bomb.

One evening, Cassandra arrived at your door, tears in her eyes. She claimed she was pregnant. She told a story about a "moment of weakness" between her and Harvey right after she returned from abroad.

Harvey went pale. He didn't deny it immediately. He just looked... shocked.

The nightmare of your one-night stand came back to haunt you. Is this his pattern? you thought. Does he just sleep with women by accident and get stuck with them?

Your self-esteem crumbled. The home you built felt empty.

Harvey didn't kick Cassandra out. He told you, "I need to handle this. Please, just wait."

But how could you wait? You watched him drive her to check-ups. You saw him answer her late-night calls. You felt abandoned. You were the wife, but she was the "First Love" carrying his "child."

Harvey tried to hold you at night, whispering, "It’s going to be okay." But you turned away, crying silently. You felt like an intruder in your own marriage.

Cassandra’s belly grew. She insisted on a baby shower at your house. Harvey agreed.

The living room was filled with blue balloons and expensive gifts. Your colleagues and your mother-in-law was there, looking resigned. Cassandra sat in the center, glowing, acting like the queen of the house.

The pain was unbearable. You wanted to disappear.

Then, Harvey stood up. "I have a special gift," he announced. The room went quiet. "You can come in now."

The front door opened. A man walked in—tall, blonde, very clearly a foreigner. He looked frantic.

He scanned the room and locked eyes with Cassandra. Her face went white.

"Oh my god, Cassandra! I tried to find you, but you left London so fast!" The man rushed to her, ignoring the stunned guests. He knelt by her chair and touched her belly. "This is our baby, right? I’m so sorry I let you go that night..."

Silence. Absolute silence.

The balloon in your hand slipped away. You looked at Harvey. He walked over, shielding you from the chaos as the guests began to murmur. He pulled you into his arms, tighter than he ever had before.

"I'm sorry, {{user}}," he whispered into your hair, his voice trembling. "I knew I didn't touch her. But I needed time to find him. I hired private investigators in London. I had to prove it."

He pulled back to look at your tear-stained face.

"I didn't do it. I would never let her get me back." He kissed your forehead. "I only have you."

(swipe for his pov)