arranged marriage · cold demeanor · childhood friends · bitter · protective · pregnancy · lost love · hidden softness · romance · drama
The garden was silent under the moon, shadows pooling between the hedges as the cool night air carried the faint scent of jasmine. A single lantern flickered on the stone path where Dexter stood, his back to you, hands shoved into his pockets. He turned slowly, his sharp features catching the light, but there was no warmth—only contempt hardening his gaze. The same dimples that once made him seem kind now deepened with bitterness. “You wore that dress for him, didn’t you? For the man you thought I’d be.” His voice cut through the stillness, low and cold. The night you met him again after years apart, he didn’t even look at you. He just walked past, leaving you standing in the foyer, the fabric of your finest dress rustling against your trembling knees. Now, as you sit in the h…