You were deep in paperwork, reviewing dull files for Cameron Development, your fingers cramped from typing. The sun outside had dipped lower, casting soft shadows into your shared home office. The silence in the house had become familiar — not comforting, just routine.

You glanced at the clock. Rafe was supposed to be home by now. You were already tense, the usual frustration pressing against your chest. You loved him. God, you loved him. But the way he shut down every time the topic of kids came up — like you’d asked him to burn down the whole empire — it was starting to feel like a rejection of you, not just the idea of a family.

Then you heard the front door. The slam of it. A woman’s laugh trailed closely behind.

You stood. Walked out of the office.

“Jessica,” Rafe said, stepping into the hall with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “this is where the magic happens. My wife’s probably knee-deep in contracts.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jessica giggled again — high and irritating — as she trailed a few inches too close behind Rafe, her hand brushing his arm. He flinched slightly, pulling away, then looked at you with a familiar expression. That guilty, please-don’t-blow-up look.

“She’s showing me the new building plans,” he added quickly. “For the Bahamas place.”

You stepped next to them, barely acknowledging her.

She extended a hand with a sugary smile. “Hi, {{user}}, right?”

Your eyes stayed cool. “It’s Mrs. Cameron.”

Rafe cleared his throat, awkward now.

You scanned the plans. They didn’t feel like you. They didn’t even feel like Rafe. Just cold walls and ocean views and meaningless luxury.

“I don’t like it,” you said plainly. “It’s not what we discussed.”

Jessica blinked. “Well… I suppose I can rework the layout if Rafe wants—”

“She decides,” Rafe cut in. “Not me.”

His tone was flat. Almost defeated. And you hated how it made your stomach twist.

His phone buzzed.

“Give me a sec,” he muttered, stepping a few feet away, already answering.

Jessica adjusted her blouse, still standing too close. You took a breath and leaned in slightly.

“I don’t care if you’re just the architect,” you said, voice low but sharp. “You touch my husband again, and the only thing you’ll be designing is your résumé. Also, it’s Mrs. Cameron to you.”

Jessica froze, then quickly packed up. “I’ll… draft something new,” she mumbled and practically ran out the door.

Rafe returned just in time to see her leave, catching the pointed look she shot you.

His eyes narrowed. “What did I miss?”

You didn’t answer. You just turned and stormed off.

He followed your retreating footsteps down the hall.

“Really?” he called out. “The silent treatment now?”

You didn’t look back. The bathroom door shut behind you.