All the Proof of Love, Forged

With a childhood rooted in a downright messy family, Sophia had no choice but to craft a backstory that could hold its own. Now, she passed as a polished rich girl from a top university, with parents—both a college professor and a doctor—settled overseas. Landing the CEO secretary gig was just her way of sharpening her skills, she claimed. Deep down, Sophia knew this modest pedigree wouldn’t cut it for climbing into high society. A truly lavish background was beyond her means to fake back then, and with the Blackwood family’s vast connections, any over-the-top lie risked being exposed. After mulling it over, she settled on this understated yet respectable cover story.

Ethan flipped through the photos in his hands, feeling not a flicker of recognition. He spoke evenly, “So, you were my secretary, and we fell in love?”

Sophia nodded eagerly. “Yeah, we grew close working together, but with our different worlds, we had to keep it under wraps.”

He lifted his gaze, studying her face for what felt like forever. Sophia, with nerves of steel honed over time, didn’t flinch. She even leaned in, playing it up. “Ethan, do any of our little moments together come back to you?”

His hand paused on the album. “Sorry, still drawing a blank.”

Sophia let her eyes drop in mock disappointment, then perked up with a forced smile. “No worries, we’ve got all the time in the world. It’ll click eventually.”

Ethan stayed silent.

Undeterred by his cool response, Sophia pressed on with concern. “Ethan, I’m dying to hear about your three years away. Can you fill me in?”

He didn’t look up. “Nothing worth mentioning. It’s in the past.”

Sophia couldn’t quite read his vibe. Was he already tired of her, or was Anna on his mind, making him pull away? The latter seemed likely—three years on that island with Anna could’ve sparked something. Still, she wasn’t about to poke that hornet’s nest. Sure, she’d borne the Blackwood family’s rightful heir, but without a marriage certificate or a wedding, she felt anything but secure. She had to lock in their “marriage” while Ethan’s memory was shot. Once the papers were signed, she’d be the undisputed Mrs. Blackwood, position secure. Whether Ethan accepted her or kept a string of lovers didn’t faze her—she was after the money, not the man.

She shifted gears smoothly. “You’re right, let’s leave the past behind. What matters is now.”

As she spoke, her soft, pale hand slid over his, her fingers inching toward his, aiming to interlace them. “What are you doing?” Ethan yanked his hand back on reflex.

Sophia froze for a beat, then let her lashes flutter, her expression hurt as she bit her lip. “We used to press our foreheads together, hands locked tight. I didn’t expect you’d react like this.”

“I’m not big on people getting too close,” Ethan said, stepping back to widen the gap.

Sophia pouted. “Ethan, we’re married, not strangers.”

“We’ve shared the most intimate moments, a love so deep it’s in our bones, no you or me.”

“Everything else can wait, but being close to you? That’s non-negotiable for me.”

Her words carried a bold edge, yet her tone dripped with a sultry lilt.

Ethan took in her flawless face—ivory skin with a soft flush, plump lips begging to be kissed, and those eyes that seemed to pull him in relentlessly. A total knockout. His throat bobbed. “Got it. I’ll try to adjust, but I need some time.”

Sophia backed off just enough. “Okay, I’ll hold back my flood of feelings for you.”

“You must be beat—I’ll run a bath for you to unwind.”

“No need, I can handle it,” Ethan declined.

She puffed her cheeks. “Fine, but if you need anything, call me—I’m always game.”

“Mm.” Ethan turned, his long strides carrying him quickly to the bathroom.

Sophia watched his hasty retreat, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

***

In the lavish bedroom, a single nightlight cast a warm glow. The bed held the shapes of two figures—one big, one small—their soft breaths breaking the silence now and then.

“Ethan?” Sophia whispered near his ear. “You asleep?”

Ethan’s eyes were shut, his breathing steady, though his lashes gave a faint twitch. His lips pressed tight, jaw rigid, as if holding a perfect “sleep” pose.

Too obvious.

A glint of amusement flashed in Sophia’s eyes as she traced his lashes with a fingertip.

Ethan didn’t budge, his willpower ironclad.

Then she leaned in, closing the distance, her warm breath brushing his lips on purpose. His lashes flickered again.

Sophia’s lips curved into a sly grin, her voice dropping to a mournful hum. “I’m so scared this is a dream, and you’ll vanish when I wake.”

With that, she draped herself over his chest, her fingers grazing his pajama buttons, twisting them slowly.

Ethan’s muscles tensed, his breathing growing ragged.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes snapped open, grabbing her wrist to stop her. Those dark eyes held no trace of sleep—only a smoldering fire.

Far from resisting, Sophia leaned closer, her red lips hovering near his ear. “I’m afraid this is a dream.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not,” he said, his voice strained.

“But I can’t feel you—it leaves me so insecure. I need to feel you’re real.”

“Ethan~ let me feel you, please?” Her tone turned downright hypnotic.

Ethan said nothing, his gaze piercing through her as if to unravel her soul.

Sophia’s lips quirked up, and in his tense silence, she lightly nipped his throat…