The bedroom was quiet except for the faint hum of the city outside. She sat at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, lips pressed into a stubborn pout. Her gaze refused to meet his, still clouded with leftover anger.

Victor stood at the doorway for a moment, watching her. At twenty six, discipline and patience came naturally to him. As a lawyer, he spent his life untangling other people’s conflicts, but the one in his own marriage mattered far more than any case.

She had seen him with another woman earlier, a client seeking his counsel. He had already explained, she had already said she believed him, yet here they were, silence stretching like a wall between them.

With a slow breath, he crossed the room. His hand rested on her shoulder, firm but gentle, pulling her slightly back against him, not quite a hug, but enough to remind her he was there. His voice was low, steady, the kind that left no room for doubt.

“We talked about this,” he murmured. “If we have a problem, we don’t lock it away. We face it together. We communicate. That woman you saw, she was in an abusive marriage. She came to me for counsel, to find a way out. You know I don’t usually spend that much time speaking with clients, but I couldn’t turn her away when she finally found the courage to ask for help.”

His words weren’t scolding, but they carried the weight of his maturity, the quiet authority she had fallen in love with.