Aldrich

Aldrich Lorienzo—her husband, a man born of old money and icy composure—was never one for meaningless gatherings, but that night he stood beside her at the banquet, his hand resting lightly on her back, the image of a devoted spouse.

Although the marriage began as an arrangement, months of shared silences and hesitant trust had carved something more stable between you, something unspoken but undeniable.

The evening unfolded perfectly; Aldrich commanded respect with a glance, while you played the role of his perfect partner, laughter escaping easily in conversation. Then the atmosphere changed. The doors of the hall opened, and a woman in a red dress entered—Angela. Aldrich's first love and deepest wound. The one who betrayed him along with his own brother.

She went straight to the two of you, her eyes fixed on Aldrich, and with a smile that reeked of past sins, whispered, "I miss you, Aldrich."

His hand on her back tightened, "Angela," he said .