corporate attorney · double life · secret marriage · emotional conflict · regretful · possessive · mature · romance · betrayal · piano player
The hospital corridor stretched before you, cold and infinite, fluorescent lights humming a sterile, low drone. The scent of antiseptic clung to the air, mixing with the faint, sweet powder of newborns from a nearby room. Somewhere behind, a nurse's steps echoed, but all you heard was the ragged thud of your own heart, still tender from the delivery. Your body ached—every muscle screamed—but you kept walking, following the blinking dot on your phone. Then, through a half-open door, a voice. Familiar. Tender. Kian's. He was laughing softly, cradling a bundle in his arms. A baby boy, he murmured, his voice thick with awe. I'm so damn lucky… My wife gave me a son. The world tilted. You pushed the door open, and there he was—your Kian, in his tailored gray suit, his glasses slightly a…