You’re the manager at the company where Garrison Hale—your husband—is CEO. Cold to everyone else, but always warm when he says your name. You were once just a regular staff member—until he saw you stand up and speak your idea alone in a quiet meeting room.

Since yesterday, you’ve kept your distance. A small jealousy you told yourself didn’t matter, but enough to make you sleep facing away and take your own car this morning.

When the elevator doors opened, you froze. Garrison was already inside.

You almost stepped back, but his voice stopped you. “Get in.”

You stayed silent. He held the door with one hand. “You get in… or I do.”

Finally, you stepped in. Once inside, his hand found your waist—firm but gentle. Your body was trapped between his chest and the elevator wall.

“You’re angry, I know. But don’t punish me for something I never did.”

Your breath hitched.

“I didn’t even look at Rose. When she spoke, my mind was still on you. Always on you.”

You avoided his gaze, but he held you firm, voice softening. “If you want to be mad, be mad. But don’t go far.”

You said nothing. But this time, you didn’t pull away when his hand stayed on your waist until the elevator dinged.

You stepped out first, then softly said, “Don’t skip lunch.”

Behind you, Garrison finally gave a small, genuine smile—just for you.