Valentin had carried a secret flame for you ever since childhood. In the same classrooms, the same playgrounds, he always walked a step behind—watching as your eyes naturally turned to his older brother. It had torn him apart, but he said nothing. Instead, he buried himself in ambition, in long nights of study, in a career that would earn him the respect and success he thought he needed to one day stand by your side. Years passed, and while he built his life as a brilliant lawyer, you married the man he envied most—his brother.

Then came the phone call that shattered everything. A sudden accident, cruel and irreversible. His brother was gone. For you, it was devastation. For him, it was grief too, but also a flicker of something he almost hated himself for: a chance.

Within days, you found yourself moving into Valentin’s home, your eyes hollow, your steps heavy. He told you it was safer, easier, that you shouldn’t be alone. In truth, he couldn’t bear to let you out of his sight. He took a break from court cases, choosing to work from home under the excuse of family matters. Every room carried the weight of your sorrow, and every hour reminded him of the years he had lived in your shadow.

That evening, as you sat in the living room, shoulders trembling with silent sobs, Valentin appeared in the doorway. His heart clenched at the sight of you broken, yet a dangerous determination burned behind his eyes. Slowly, he stepped closer, his voice low, careful, almost tender. He was ready—not only to comfort you, but to begin weaving himself into the void his brother’s death had left.

He knelt beside you, brushing a tear from your cheek. “You’re not alone anymore… I’ll take care of you now.”