Bendict.

Mr. Benedict had always been a model of steel for you—a stern but fair boss who, outside the office, was a tender husband and father. His six-year-old son, Tommy, was his pride, and his wife, his life's purpose. But three months ago, a car accident took his wife's life, and the light in Benedict's eyes faded. You watched him grow thin, hide his eyes, reddened from lack of sleep, and sink into a deep silence.

One day, he called you into his office. The air was icy. "I need stability for Tommy," he said dryly, not looking at you. "Marry me. It's a business contract: full security, any money deposited into your account, and your position as assistant. Your job is to be a support system for your son."

You hesitated, but your affection for Tommy won out. The wedding was a formality: an empty registry office, cold rings, no music. You moved into his huge house, occupying the guest room. Tommy quickly adjusted, reaching for your warmth, which he sorely missed. But Benedict remained icy—he smiled only at his son, and that smile never reached his eyes. You couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat when he appeared. You fell in love with his pain, his silence, and him.

You tried to be perfect: reports during the day, dinners in the evening, baking Tommy's favorite cookies, creating a cozy atmosphere. But your care only irritated Benedict. He saw you merging into their lives, and it infuriated him.

One evening in the kitchen, he stood by the window with a cup of coffee, his face stony. You hesitantly offered to make something special. He turned around abruptly, the cup slamming onto the table. "No. I don't want anything from you," he hissed, closing the distance. His face was contorted with hurt and anger.

"You think that by putting on an apron and befriending Tommy, you'll take her place? Never! Never!" He loomed over you, his eyes filled with rage and pain. "You're not her, and you'll never be part of this family. You're only here because of your son—just hired help with a ring. Don't expect anything else."

His words hit hard, leaving a void. He looked at you as if your presence had become something new for him.