Chapter 4

The atmosphere had shifted again.

Tymm could feel it—not in anything Harrison said, but in what he didn’t. There was a certain stiffness in his shoulders, a quietness in his movements that reminded her of their first few days together.

She told herself it was nothing. That she was just being paranoid after meeting Celine. That the weight of the conversation hadn’t been as heavy as it felt.

But then, during a quiet Tuesday dinner, it dropped.

“I should tell you something,” Harrison said.

Tymm looked up from her plate, already bracing herself.

“There’s a partnership being finalized with VeltraTech this quarter.”

She nodded slowly. “Okay…”

“Celine’s the new project lead on their side. She’ll be overseeing the integration with one of our subsidiaries.”

Her fork paused halfway to her mouth.

“So… she’s back in your business life now,” she said quietly.

Harrison nodded. “It wasn’t something I arranged, but I also didn’t block it. She’s good at what she does, and this partnership has been in development long before everything with us happened.”

Tymm’s stomach tightened. She hated how reasonable he sounded.

“She didn’t mention that when we met,” she muttered, setting her fork down.

Harrison frowned. “You met before this?”

“She called me. Wanted to ‘talk.’ Said I deserved to know who you were before I got in too deep.”

He leaned back slightly, his jaw tightening. “That wasn’t her place.”

“No,” Tymm agreed. “But you left a lot of space for someone else to fill.”

Silence fell between them. Not angry—just heavy with things unspoken.

“I’m not asking you to be okay with it,” Harrison said finally. “But I wanted you to hear it from me. I’m trying, Tymm. I want to be transparent with you.”

She nodded, quietly appreciating that he hadn’t tried to hide it. But that didn’t erase the unease crawling up her spine.

“She still wants you,” she said bluntly.

“I don’t want her.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But history makes it hard to forget what used to be possible.”

Harrison stood and walked around the table, stopping beside her. He didn’t touch her, but his presence felt closer than usual.

“I’ve made my choice, Tymm. You.”

Her heart thudded hard at those words, but she wasn’t ready to let herself fully believe them yet.

Not with shadows still hanging so close.

The next day, Tymm returned to her small volunteer work at a local music program—something she’d started doing quietly to feel useful outside the Salvador name. She taught piano to a handful of students from public schools, and it had become her refuge.

But even there, thoughts of Celine crept in.

Was she just part of a season in Harrison’s life that would eventually pass?

Or was she still a temporary replacement for the woman he once truly wanted?

That night, Harrison didn’t return until late. She was in bed, pretending to sleep, when the door quietly opened.

His footsteps were soft. He moved around the room with practiced ease, not wanting to wake her.

But she spoke anyway. “You saw her today, didn’t you?”

A pause.

“Yes. We had a project meeting.”

“Did she bring me up?”

“She asked how we were.”

“And what did you say?”

Harrison walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, sighing. “I told her we’re building something real. That we’re learning. And that I don’t intend to ruin that.”

Tymm sat up, pulling the covers around her. “Do you mean it?”

He turned toward her, eyes tired but sincere. “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Tymm. Not anymore.”

Her gaze lingered on him. She believed him—at least, she wanted to. But the fear remained, clinging like fog.

“Then prove it,” she said softly. “Not just with words. With action.”

He reached forward, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “I will.”

The next week tested them both.

Celine was more visible now—her name came up during meetings, her face occasionally appeared in press briefings, and social media didn’t help, with speculation circulating about “Harrison Salvador’s past love interest resurfacing.”

Tymm stayed silent publicly, but she felt the heat of judgment everywhere she went.

One afternoon, during an event where she’d been invited to speak about the music foundation she supported, a reporter cornered her with a smile too sharp to be friendly.

“Mrs. Salvador, how does it feel to be the ‘new wife’ when the old flame is still in the picture?”

The microphone was shoved in her face, cameras flashing.

Tymm took a breath.

“It’s simple,” she said calmly. “I’m not here to replace anyone. I’m here because someone chose to grow, and I’m growing with him. That’s what marriage should be.”

The response went viral.

The backlash against the reporter was immediate.

But more importantly—Harrison saw it too.

That night, he returned home early. For once, he wasn’t in a suit. He looked tired—but something in his eyes was proud.

“You didn’t have to defend me,” he said as soon as he entered the room.

“I didn’t,” Tymm replied, walking toward him. “I defended us.”

They stood there, close but not touching, the tension melting into something deeper.

“I meant what I said,” she added, voice lower. “I want to grow. But I can’t do it alone.”

“You won’t have to.”

This time, when he reached for her hand, she didn’t pull away.