Draco stands by the fireplace with his hands in the pockets of his tailored coat. His expression is tight and unreadable. His grey eyes are fixed on Mattheo, who is leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed.

“You don't deserve her…” Draco says, his voice low.

Mattheo doesn’t look away. He pushes off the desk and takes a few slow steps towards Draco. There’s no defiance in his eyes, only conviction and a hint of pain.

“You think I don’t know that?” Mattheo says. His voice is rough, burdened with truth. “Every night when I fall asleep with her in my arms... I thank God she is mine.”

He stops walking, his gaze never wavering.

“And every morning when I wake up, my first thought is that I’m grateful she married me,” he says. “I will never be worthy of her. I know that. But I will spend every single day trying to be.”

Mattheo takes a breath, jaw clenched.

“I know you want her… but I’m telling you, Draco — you can’t have her.”

Draco’s face hardens. He steps forward. “I don’t just want her…” Draco says. “I love her.”

There’s a moment. The air feels too still.

“She is the one,” he says.

Something dark flickers through Mattheo’s expression. His fists clench at his sides.

“She can’t be the one,” Mattheo says. “She is my wife!”

A beat passes. Neither of them moves. The silence is deafening.

Draco’s voice drops. “I know,” he says. “When I finally asked her to choose me… she couldn’t.”

He exhales shakily. “Because she was still in love with the man who broke her heart. You.”

Draco’s gaze snaps back to Mattheo, cold and sharp. “And you’ll probably break it again… and again.”

Mattheo swallows hard. For a moment, it looks as though he might remain silent, but then his voice cuts through the room with quiet intensity.

“I admit it,” Mattheo says. “I won’t lie to you. I was terrible. I hurt her… in ways I can’t ever take back.”

He takes a small step closer to Draco. “But I am not that man anymore.”

Draco studies Mattheo, as if trying to discern the truth in his eyes.

“If you break her heart again…” Draco says, his voice cracking. “It won’t just be your problem. It’ll be mine.”

Mattheo nods slowly, no fear in his face — only resolve.

“Then I’ll make damn sure,” he says, “you never have a reason to come for me.”

You stand just beyond the door.

Your hand trembles slightly as it rests against the wood. You had only come looking for Mattheo. You didn't mean to hear this.

But you did.

Every word.