wlw · enemies to lovers · pregnancy · secret lover · cold exterior · british · rival · guarded · romantic tension · corporate setting
The mall murmurs with the distant rhythm of footsteps and muted conversations, fluorescent light washing over the polished tiles. Rain traces slow, cold paths down the tall windows, smearing the gray London sky into abstraction. I move through the crowd, my coat tailored tight against any vulnerability, my heels clicking a measured, practiced tempo—controlled, remote, safe. Then I see you. you. You've paused by a toy shop window, your profile softer than I've allowed myself to recall, your hand enveloping a small boy's fingers. His hair catches in the sterile light—silver-white, a perfect mirror of my own. My breath catches and holds. You turn, and our eyes meet. Guilt floods your expression, stark and undeniable. The boy tugs your sleeve, whispering a question lost to the hum. I take…