Two months. Two long, agonizing months had passed since Katherine’s betrayal had shaken their world. Despite all the emotional turmoil and the undeniable fractures in their marriage, Augustus and Evelyn remained in close proximity, united by the burden of their professional lives. But their personal connection—whatever fragile thread that had once existed between them—had all but vanished.

Evelyn had spent countless days and nights trying to reach Augustus, to break through the walls he’d built around himself, but nothing seemed to work. He became colder, more distant with each passing day. His heart had shut down after the betrayal, and he now wore the scalding remnants of his anger and mistrust like armor. He avoided eye contact, rarely spoke to her unless it was absolutely necessary, and his replies were often curt, impersonal, and business-like.

But Evelyn refused to give up. She couldn’t explain it, not even to herself. Was it love? No, not yet, not in the romantic sense. But it was something deeper—something maternal and soft, a quiet sense of care that had grown over time. When she first married Augustus, she had been fully aware of the fact that this was a marriage born of duty and obligation, not love. But over time, she had seen glimpses of Augustus’s true nature: the man who was fiercely protective, who hid his vulnerabilities behind a mask of arrogance and control.

Yet, he was breaking. And so was she.

She couldn’t help but wonder—if only Augustus would let her in, if only he would allow himself to be vulnerable again, they could begin healing together. But with each passing day, he became more like a stone, harder to touch, impossible to reach.

And so, Evelyn had decided that today, she would break the silence.

---

Augustus, on the other hand, was drowning in a sea of bitterness, regret, and self-loathing. His thoughts constantly swirled around the betrayal by Katherine. For a time, he had missed her—her touch, her laughter, the way she made him feel needed and wanted. But now? Now, the mere mention of her name made his blood boil. The longing had turned into hatred, but the wound still remained. The betrayal was a jagged scar, still raw, still pulsing with painful reminders of how naïve he had been to trust her.

But what stung the most was the realization that he had allowed himself to trust anyone again. The woman who had come into his life, claiming to love him, had only used him. She had been working for a rival company, digging for information, all the while pretending to care. And now, Katherine was gone, replaced by a void he couldn’t fill with anything, not even work.

But the worst part wasn’t just the betrayal of Katherine—it was the betrayal of his own self. How had he allowed her to get so close? How had he allowed himself to fall for her in the first place?

When he thought of Evelyn, it was complicated. She wasn’t like Katherine. She wasn’t manipulative or scheming. She wasn’t playing a game. But Evelyn was still a reminder of everything he had lost. Every smile she flashed, every soft word she spoke, every attempt to break through his walls—each of those moments only made him feel more exposed, more vulnerable. And vulnerability? Vulnerability was a weakness he couldn’t afford. 

Augustus felt guilty for pushing her away, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t trust anyone anymore. 

---

It had been too long since they had spent any time together, too long since the last time Augustus had allowed her to see beyond the icy mask he wore. Evelyn couldn’t take it anymore. She couldn’t just sit by while Augustus sank deeper into himself, becoming a hollow version of the man he used to be.

It was early Friday afternoon when Evelyn walked into Augustus’s office, determined to put her plan into action.

She had been thinking about this for days, trying to find a way to get him to leave work, to take a step away from the suffocating pressure he put on himself. The cold, endless hours at his desk. The night after night spent in the office, completely disconnected from the world around him.

“Augustus,” she said firmly, standing in the doorway. Her voice was calm, but there was a quiet resolve to it. “You’re leaving work early today.”

Augustus barely looked up from the stack of papers in front of him. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. “I’ve got a meeting tomorrow, and I need to finish this tonight.”

Evelyn crossed the room and stood directly in front of his desk. She wasn’t going to back down. “You do. You need to leave. You need a break. And I’m not going to let you continue working yourself into the ground.”

He finally looked up at her, his brow furrowed in annoyance. “What’s your point, Evelyn?”

“My point,” she said, her eyes steady, “is that you’re coming with me. Right now.”

He blinked in surprise, clearly unprepared for the sudden assertiveness. “You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

But Evelyn wasn’t having it. “Yes, you are. You need to take a step back. You need to *live* a little, Augustus. You can’t keep burying yourself in your work.” 

There was a beat of silence as he stared at her, frustration and something else—something unreadable—flashing in his eyes. And then, with a heavy sigh, he stood up, reluctantly giving in.

“Fine. But I’m not going to like it,” he muttered, grabbing his jacket and tossing it over his arm. 

“I don’t care,” Evelyn replied with a small smile, feeling a flicker of victory. “Come on. I’ve got plans.”

Evelyn had planned everything to perfection. She had reserved a private, beautifully secluded garden at an upscale restaurant that specialized in fine dining. The space was intimate, lit by warm fairy lights and dozens of flickering candles. In the center of the garden stood a single table, set with the finest china and crystal glasses that sparkled in the dim light. A small string quartet played softly in the background, providing the perfect soundtrack for the evening.

Augustus, however, didn’t seem impressed at first. He stood at the entrance of the garden, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the scene. His shoulders were stiff, and his posture rigid, as though he were preparing to shut down any attempt at emotional connection.

“This... this is different,” he said, his voice lacking the usual bite. It was more of an observation than a compliment.

Evelyn smiled gently, relieved that he didn’t outright reject the setting. “I thought you might appreciate a change of pace. It’s been a while since we’ve had a night like this.”

For a few moments, the two of them simply sat, the silence between them not uncomfortable, but still heavy. The food arrived in a series of delicate courses, each dish more delicious than the last. They shared a bottle of red wine, and as the evening wore on, Augustus loosened up, though not as much as she had hoped.

As the night drew on, Evelyn, feeling bold and wanting to lighten the mood, decided to sing. She had a soft, beautiful voice—something she rarely shared with anyone, but tonight, it felt right. She chose a song, a romantic ballad, not knowing that it would be the very one that would unravel everything.

It was a song that had once been shared between Augustus and Katherine, the song that had been their favorite during their happier times. Evelyn hadn’t known this. To her, it was simply a lovely, soothing tune that seemed fitting for the moment.

But as soon as the first note left her lips, Augustus’s face hardened. His jaw clenched, and his grip on his wine glass tightened so much that the veins in his hand stood out. The mere sound of Evelyn’s voice, singing the very song that had once been his and Katherine’s, was like a dagger to his chest.

His eyes flickered with anger. Not at Evelyn. Not at her voice, which was beautiful and pure. But at the memory of Katherine—at the illusion that had been shattered. The sight of Evelyn singing that song, completely unaware of its significance, was like rubbing salt into an open wound.

Without a word, Augustus stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back with a loud scrape. His fist tightened around the wine glass, and before Evelyn could react, he hurled it across the room. The bottle smashed against the wall, sending glass shards scattering across the floor. The sound of shattering glass was deafening, cutting through the music and the moment.

Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at him, her voice faltering. “Augustus? What’s wrong?”

He was seething now, his chest rising and falling with each angry breath. His voice was low, dripping with venom. “What’s wrong?” he spat. “What’s wrong is you, Evelyn. You think you can just—” His words cut off as he turned toward her, eyes blazing. “You think you can just play this game with me, make me forget everything, make me—”

“I’m not playing any game,” Evelyn interjected, her voice shaky. “I didn’t know—”

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Augustus continued, his voice rising. “You think I can’t see it

? You’re trying to manipulate me, trying to make me trust you, trying to make me—” His face twisted with disdain. “Fall in love with you?”

Evelyn recoiled as if struck by the harshness of his words. She was stunned, her heart racing in her chest. “Augustus, that’s not what I—”

He didn’t let her finish. “Don’t lie to me, Evelyn!” he shouted. “Don’t pretend like you don’t want something more. I see right through you. I won’t let you do this to me!”

His words cut deep, deeper than anything he had ever said before. Her chest tightened, and for a brief moment, her vision blurred with unshed tears, but she didn’t cry. She couldn’t. It was as if her mind had gone numb, unable to process the harsh words, the rejection, the crushing finality in his tone.

Before she could speak again, Augustus turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving her alone in the middle of the garden, surrounded by broken glass and silence.

The wind seemed colder now, as if the evening itself mourned the loss of the connection that could have been. The string quartet had stopped playing, and the soft, romantic ambiance felt like a distant memory. Evelyn sat at the table, her hands trembling in her lap, unable to do anything but stare at the mess Augustus had left behind.

The truth hit her like a slap. She had been a fool. She had hoped—desperately, hopelessly—that Augustus could change, that he would open up, that they could find some way to heal together. But now, sitting alone in the darkness, she realized how naive she had been.

She had thought she could help him, but in the end, she was just another person he couldn’t trust, another person he had pushed away.

And in that moment, the weight of the betrayal hit her harder than she could have ever expected.

She was alone again.

And this time, it wasn’t just Augustus who had shut her out—it was the entirety of his broken heart, a heart that refused to love again.