As they continued walking, Emily stopped again at a quiet corner of the gallery. There, a soft light bathed a minimalist installation: a crescent moon and scattered stars cast across a curved glass panel. Her breath caught.It reminded her of something.The rings.She had just finished the final design days ago—his was etched with constellations, hers with a single rising moon.A private detail. Something only they’d understand.Her fingers brushed the pendant at her collarbone as she stared.Maybe… maybe she’d get them made soon.She wasn’t sure when it would be the right moment to give them to him.Even if their marriage hadn’t begun with love… Emily knew, somewhere deep down, she was starting to feel something.Maybe not a grand, sweeping kind of love—not yet.But something warm. Quiet. Real.And that was enough.Adrian had never asked for anything in return. He’d protect
Adrian was still in his office when the last light of dusk spilled across the skyline, painting his floor-to-ceiling windows in soft amber. Papers were neatly stacked on the desk, one hand absently flipping through a contract—but his focus had long since dulled. His phone buzzed. It was a message from Emily. Emily: When you’re done with work, come find me. He sat up a little straighter. A moment later, another message popped up. Emily: When you step out of your company’s front doors…there’ll be a pumpkin carriage waiting to pick up the prince. Adrian froze. A slow beat of silence filled the room. Pumpkin…carriage? Something stirred in his chest. A wild, ridiculous, impossible suspicion. He didn’t even wait to respond. In one smooth motion, he stood, grabbed his coat, and pressed the elevator button for his private descent.
Adrian kept climbing. The soft lighting glowed gently along the steps,each one lined with a hand-painted card fluttering slightly in the breeze.He paused with each,picking them up one by one,as if retracing a story only he had lived in silence. Then came a gap. Several steps held nothing. A quiet space between their past and the now. But just as he reached the next landing,the cards began again. Card5: We got married. No drawing.Just the words.Simple,and yet it struck something deep. Card6: You were always good to me.You taught me so much. A sketch of him explaining something,her watching with a faint smile. Card7: You got drunk.I took you home. The drawing was light-hearted—him slouched over,tie loose. Card8: The yacht trip.I didn’t know you had a sailing license.That was…impressive. A Yacht,the waves gentle,and a stick figure version of him at the helm. Card9: The reporters swarmed.You kept me hidden. Drawn from the back:him shielding her,hi
She let out a shaky breath as he opened the box and slid the ring onto his finger.Then he took her hand and carefully slipped the matching band onto hers. For a second,neither of them moved. And then—he leaned forward and kissed her hand,right over the metal she had forged for him. That was when the first firework bloomed in the sky behind them—soft gold against deep navy.Then another.And another. She blinked,startled,before remembering—she had planned this.She had booked a private team,set up the timing,even arranged for everything to be filmed quietly from a distance. But none of it felt staged now. Not when he was looking at her like that. Not when she could feel her heartbeat matching his. Adrian didn’t look away. He wasn’t thinking about the lights or the camera crew or the carefully orchestrated night. He was thinking about her. And if there was ever a moment in his life when he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be—it was now The ride home
Every movement was measured—careful,devastating in its intent.His lips trailed lower,mapping the tender skin of her thighs like he was memorizing her pulse,her reactions,her undoing.Every soft graze of his mouth,every slow bite of his teeth felt like a brand,marking her in ways that left her breathless. When his tongue finally found her core,It was precise—like he’d thought about this,dreamed of it,and now that he had her,he wasn’t going to waste a second. She arched off the bed,fingers twisting in the sheets as he worked her with ruthless patience.The flat of his tongue dragged over her in slow,torturous strokes before circling the spot that made her legs tremble. He simply learned her as he went. And just when she was about to fall—he stopped. he pulled back—only to replace his mouth with two fingers,crooking them inside her while his thumb took up the rhythm. The shock of it made her cry out
The next morning, Emily stirred slowly under the soft sheets, her body aching in places she hadn’t expected. A deep, satisfied kind of soreness, the kind that reminded her just how thoroughly last night had unraveled her. She barely had time to shift before a warm hand found the curve of her lower back. Adrian’s voice was low, still laced with sleep.“Sore?” She let out a muffled sound, burying her face against his shoulder.“Like I ran a marathon I didn’t train for.” He chuckled, the sound sending a vibration through her ribs as he pulled her gently onto her stomach.“Stay still.” His fingers were warm and strong, pressing into her shoulders, her spine—slow, practiced strokes that somehow made the ache bloom and ease all at once. She melted beneath his touch, every knot of tension unwinding with every sweep of his hand. “You’re unfairly good at this,”she murmured. They stayed like that for a while—quiet, close, the air between them tender in a way that needed no words.
That afternoon, Emily was curled up on the couch, idly scrolling through her phone when a notification popped up—a new follower on her design page.The username was unfamiliar-hermobius. The profile had no bio. Just one post.Curious, she clicked.It was a close-up photo of two hands—hers and Adrian’s—from the night they exchanged rings. The lighting was soft, the rings catching the faint shimmer of fireworks in the background. Whoever had taken the shot had captured the moment perfectly.Emily’s heart skipped.She took a screenshot and sent it to Adrian.Emily: You made a social media account?A moment later, his reply came through.Adrian: Mm. Felt like I should post something that matters.Then another message followed—a selfie. His hand raised, showcasing the wedding band on his finger.Adrian: A symbol that belongs to you.Emily stared at the photo, then noticed something. The background wasn’t his office.Emily: Wait… you're not at work?Adrian: Nope. I’m doing a person
If she really came on the20th… Then that message,sent on the18th… It wasn’t from her. Adrian’s eyes darkened as he stared at the words again,something cold pressing behind his ribs. Back then,he had believed it.Every word. After that message five years ago—May18th—he hadn’t come back.Not really. He'd finished the business trip,extended it twice,then shifted to another project overseas.There had always been a reason.A client to meet.A team to oversee.A contract to renegotiate. But deep down…he knew. He’d stayed away because he thought she had chosen someone else. And if that was true—if she was happy—he hadn’t wanted to interfere.Not even with a reply. He hadn’t questioned it. He’d just…disappeared. Five years.No contact.No messages.No attempts to cross back into her world.
As the applause faded and the lights dimmed slightly, a soft transition played across the massive LED screen behind Emily. The crowd turned to look— and there it was. A sleek, elegant Möbius strip, rendered in brushed platinum and rose gold, slowly rotated on the screen. It was the official brand symbol of her new line. The host, standing beside the podium, turned toward her with a smile. “Ms. Hart, could you tell us a bit about the meaning behind this design?” Emily smiled, steady and poised, her voice carrying gently through the mic. “The Möbius strip has a fascinating history,” she began. “It’s a one-sided surface—continuous, infinite. No beginning, no end. It symbolizes unity, eternity, and the beautifully complex nature of connection.” She paused, then added, her eyes softening slightly. “When I created this brand, a part of its philosophy was inspired by my husband. This symbol you see here is also the foundation of our wedding ring design. Because I believe every s
The space between them stretched thin, charged and brittle. People around them were starting to notice, glancing over with curious eyes. The gift box remained suspended awkwardly between them, Mike’s hand still waiting, expectant. Emily’s fingers curled into her side, rigid with the effort not to move, not to take it. A heartbeat later, a warm hand closed over the box. Another arm slid around her waist in a firm, unmistakable claim. Emily exhaled in a rush as Adrian pulled her gently against him, his presence a wall between her and everything else. He turned to Mike with a polished smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Mike,”Adrian said smoothly, his voice calm and cutting all at once. “Good to see you. Please, enjoy the evening. Have a seat.” Without waiting for a response, Adrian laced his fingers through Emily’s and steered her away with effortless possession. Emily followed, her heart hammering, the heat of his hand grounding her as they moved through the crow
Adrian smiled against her hair, then shifted to the side, pulling the covers up over both of them. He gathered her into his arms, tucking her securely against him, her head nestled under his chin, his hand stroking soothing circles along her spine. Emily let out a tiny sigh, the last of her tension melting away. Wrapped up in his arms, with the steady thud of his heartbeat against her ear and his breath warm in her hair, she finally felt herself drift. Safe. Loved. Home. Adrian kissed the top of her head one last time and whispered, "Sleep, baby. I'm not going anywhere." And with that promise stitched into the night between them, they both surrendered to sleep—together. - The design studio was finally finished— polished marble floors, glass walls that caught the sunlight just right, sleek modern lines that spoke of ambition and elegance. It stood just a few blocks away from E International, nestled in the heart of the city’s thriving downtown core. When E
With a low,ragged growl,he shifted,gripping her hips firmly as he drove into her with a sudden,deeper thrust. Emily gasped sharply,her back bowing off the bed,her nails digging into his skin as he filled her completely,claiming her in a way that left no room for thought. He caught her mouth in a fierce kiss,swallowing every broken sound she made,moving inside her with a raw,aching need that he no longer bothered to hold back. His control—so carefully maintained—was gone now,undone by the way she trembled for him,by the way she clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. And he was. He always would be. Their bodies moved together in a wild,desperate rhythm,each thrust sending another tremor through her,each kiss deepening the way they unraveled into each other. In that moment,nothing else existed— just the burn of skin against skin, the frantic beating of two hearts colliding, and the unspoken vows stitched into every breathless touch. Emily’s
He reached the bed and lowered her carefully onto the mattress, his hands lingering a moment longer than necessary, as if reluctant to let her go. Emily looked up at him, her hair fanning out across the pillows, cheeks flushed, eyes wide and soft. Adrian stayed there for a beat, hovering above her, his gaze tracing every inch of her face like he was trying to memorize her all over again. Then, without a word, he leaned down and kissed her. Slowly. Deeply. The kind of kiss that didn’t rush, didn’t ask for anything—only gave. His mouth moved against hers with a tenderness that made her heart ache, like he was pouring everything he couldn’t say into that single touch. Adrian shifted, bracing one arm beside her head, the other sliding along her waist with a patience that made her tremble. His fingers brushed the hem of her pajama top, tracing small, reverent circles against her skin, as if asking permission without ever needing to speak. When Emily gasped softly against hi
Emily caught a glimpse of Adrian holding his phone up, filming something. She tilted her head curiously. “What are you doing?” He didn’t look away from the screen as he answered, voice low and steady. “Recording you,”he said.“So next time you’re scared, you can look back and remember this feeling—this moment when you chose courage. Then, little by little, we’ll stack up so many good memories that the fear won’t stand a chance.” Emily blinked, then smiled—a small, genuine smile that reached her eyes. He was right. Facing things, handling them one step at a time, was how real confidence was built. Not overnight. But piece by piece. Her heart felt lighter. When they finally headed back down the winding mountain roads, Emily kept her hands steady on the wheel, a quiet kind of pride blooming in her chest. They decided to stop for lunch on Lexford Boulevard again. Emily pulled into a spot near the restaurant. As she climbed out, a loose piece of gravel shifted under he
The next morning, Emily was about to grab her purse and head out—the interior designer from E International had texted, asking her to come by and check out the preliminary renovation plans for her personal design studio. She picked up her car keys from the counter—but her fingers hesitated. A small tremble ran through them. Just as she was about to tell the driver she might need him to take her instead, the distant growl of an engine caught her ear. Emily turned—and froze. A bright yellow SUV pulled into the driveway. The window rolled down. Adrian. He smiled lazily at her from behind the wheel.“Come see your new ride. Tell me if you like it.” Emily stared for a second, stunned. The SUV was wild and beautiful—bold yellow with clean, muscular lines that somehow managed to look both untamed and sophisticated. Even the rims were touched with a subtle, eye-catching gleam of color. Before she could find words, Adrian cut the engine, got out, and walked over. He pr
Adrian’s expression softened. He reached out, pulled her gently into his arms. She didn’t speak, not right away. Just breathed. Just trembled. He pressed a kiss to her hair. Then, quietly— “Sometimes the body remembers what the mind forgets. Especially when it’s something you weren’t ready to carry.” His thumb brushed along the back of her hand, grounding her. “Sometimes the mind tucks things away until it’s ready,”Adrian said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.“Especially when you’re that young. Four years old…most people don’t remember much.” “But something in you held onto it,”he added, his voice quiet but certain.“And whatever it was—whoever they were—you weren’t alone then.” He leaned closer, pressing a steady kiss to her temple. “And you’re not alone now,”he whispered.“Whatever you remember, whenever it comes back—I’ll be here. You don’t have to carry it
Emily blinked, then laughed softly.“I was going to wait until everything was ready to reach out. But yes, I am. And if any of you want in, I’d love to have you.” Word spread like a spark on dry kindling. Members from A group, B group—familiar faces with eager eyes—turned toward her, nodding, asking if it was true. Emily nodded.“It’s not fancy yet. We’re still laying the foundation. But if you’re willing to take a leap with me…” “You don’t even have to ask,”Lily said.“We’re in.” Emily smiled. It didn’t matter what she had left behind anymore. Because what she was building—was hers. - After wrapping things up at A Design, Emily headed out and got into her car. Emily had only been driving for about five minutes when it happened. A screech of tires. The sudden slam of metal against metal. A car veered sharply into hers, clipping the side mirror and jolting her vehicle with a force that sent her heart lurching into her throat. She froze. The world spun for a sec