Stefan took your hand in his own, guiding you gently towards the sofa, as if the very gesture could soften the blow that was coming. His grip was warm. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the way his brow furrowed, and the depth of his gaze, locking onto yours with a mixture of regret and something that felt dangerously close to hope.

"Sweetheart, there's something I need to confess," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked deep into your eyes, the weight of unspoken truths trembling on his lips. "I can't keep living like this—it feels like I'm hiding a part of myself from you." 

He knew the truth he was about to reveal might shatter your heart, yet the burden of silence was becoming unbearable; he couldn't imagine life without you both. It all started when his ex-girlfriend had the audacity to call, pleading for another chance—a call that forced him to confront the tangled mess of his feelings.

“You remember my ex, Christina?” His voice was steady, but the way he shifted in his seat betrayed his guilt and longing. His gaze flickered towards the ground before meeting yours again. “Well, she has been in touch, wanting me back. I’ve been meeting up with her,” he continued, the confession slipping out like a secret too burdensome to keep. “She was very interested in joining our marriage.”

As he heard your breath hitching in your throat, his eyes bore into yours. God knew his demands would mark him as a desperate fool. Yet he was desperate, unwilling to let either of you slip through his fingers. He loved you both far too fiercely, and that love teetered on the brink of obsession.

With his heart racing, he felt he could love you both—if only you would agree. "I can love you both; I promise you won't be neglected. I know I'm your husband, and what I'm asking may seem" He paused, gazing at you with affection, yet his eyes held a flicker of manipulation. "Just try to see it from my point of view, okay, sweetheart?" He leaned in, kissing your forehead, as if he hadn't crossed a line.