It was a quiet morning when Augustus found himself once again wandering through the sprawling mansion, though this time his steps were purposeful. He had been in the study most of the day, buried under a mountain of papers and calls for the merger. But when his gaze fell on Evelyn’s bedroom door—slightly ajar as it had been for the past few days—a curiosity bubbled within him. He had no business being there, and yet, the stillness of the house seemed to pull him toward it. 

He wasn’t looking for trouble, but something about the way she had been lately—distant, withdrawn, almost lost—made him wonder about her. More than he cared to admit, a strange ache gnawed at his chest when he thought about how little they communicated, how little they shared, and yet, in their own way, they were bound together by an unspoken contract. 

With a swift motion, he pushed the door open just enough to slip inside. 

Her room was a blend of calm elegance. Soft beige walls and a large bed with silk sheets. But it was the dresser by the window that caught his eye. There, amid the neatly arranged items, he saw the old photo album sitting half-open, its pages turned. He recognized the photograph instantly—the one of her and Justin from so many years ago. 

He stood frozen for a moment, his gaze locked on the image. There they were, her arm around his shoulders, their faces so close, so carefree. It was a different Evelyn—a younger, unburdened version of her. And Justin—her long-lost friend, the one who had been absent from her life for so many years. Augustus had heard of him only in passing, and never with any real interest. But seeing this photo now, he felt a sudden, sharp wave of discomfort. 

Why was it here, in her room? A room that was meant to belong to them both now, where nothing from her past should have had a place. 

He reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of the photo. And then his eyes caught something else—a small, worn-out leather-bound diary, a familiar symbol of an intimate life that he had no access to. He opened it with a flick of his wrist, scanning the pages, though his grip tightened as he read the familiar entries. *Justin…* his name was written on nearly every page. Her crush, her dreams, her confessions. 

A surge of irritation and possessiveness crept up his throat, but before he could process his feelings, the sound of footsteps in the hallway startled him. He quickly closed the album, placing it back on the dresser and walking briskly out of the room. 

He had no right to invade her privacy. Yet, something gnawed at him—a suspicion, a sense of betrayal. But more than that, it was the realization that he was more affected by the sight of her past than he was willing to admit. 

---

That evening, as Evelyn returned from work, she was greeted by the usual silence of the mansion. It was odd, she thought, how empty it felt even with Augustus in it. She had hoped the day at the office would be a distraction, but all she could think about was Justin—his call, the memories of their time together, and the sharp pang of regret she felt every time she compared him to Augustus. 

She entered the kitchen, intending to grab a quick dinner before retreating to her office, but as she stepped inside, she froze. Augustus was standing near the counter, a stern expression etched on his face. His eyes were dark with intensity. 

“Evelyn,” he said, his voice low but cutting. “We need to talk.” 

Her heart skipped. She had barely stepped into the room when he spoke, his tone carrying an edge that made her uneasy. 

“What is it?” she asked, feigning indifference. 

Augustus didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked toward her, holding something in his hand. Her breath hitched as she realized what it was. The photo album. The same one that had been on her dresser this morning, the same one that had stirred something in him when he looked through it. 

“Do you care to explain this?” he asked, his voice tinged with something she couldn’t quite place. 

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with it?” 

He set the album down on the counter between them, his gaze never leaving her face. “You’re married to me, Evelyn. Yet, I find pictures of you with someone else in your room. Do you think I’m a fool?” 

Evelyn stiffened, her pulse quickening. “It’s just a picture from my past. I had a life before this, Augustus.” 

His lips curled into a thin, humorless smile. “A past that should remain in the past.” His voice hardened. “What do you think would happen if someone saw these pictures? The press, the people who work for us—hell, even our families. How do you think it looks, Evelyn?” 

She felt her heart drop. His words weren’t about her feelings, or their marriage. It was about his image, his reputation. 

“I don’t care what people think,” she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and hurt. “You’re so focused on appearances, Augustus. You never stop to think about what I feel. I didn’t bring this up to you, and I don’t owe you an explanation for my past. It’s my life. And yet, you come into my room, invade my privacy, and make everything about how it affects you.” 

Her words came out in a rush, each syllable sharper than the last. She could feel the familiar weight of frustration boiling inside her. Why was she always the one to apologize? Why did she always have to tiptoe around his pride? 

Augustus’s jaw tightened. “You’re making this about you. I’m trying to protect you. Us.” 

Evelyn took a step forward, her face flushed with emotion. “Don’t pretend like you care about me. You never have. You’ve been so busy with your work, and bringing Katherine into this house, that you don’t even know who I am anymore.” 

The words came out before she could stop them. The truth, raw and unfiltered, spilled between them like an irreversible fracture. 

“Why don’t you just admit it?” she continued, her voice shaking with emotion. “You’ve always treated me like a piece in a game—something to control, something to manage. But you’ve never cared about me.” She paused, her chest heaving. “And if I’m being honest… I regret it. I regret marrying you. I wish it was Justin standing here with me, not you.” 

The silence that followed was suffocating. Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat as the words hung in the air, each one heavier than the last. She had said it—the thought she had been suppressing for so long. 

Augustus’s face paled, his eyes darkening with something that wasn’t just anger—it was hurt. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but the words never came. 

Instead, he turned on his heel, his footsteps echoing through the hallway as he left her standing there, breathless and shaken. 

---

Evelyn stood there, her heart pounding in her chest, as the realization of what had just transpired hit her. 

She regretted it. She regretted everything. She had never meant to say those words, but the hurt, the bitterness, the frustration—it all came out.

But did he hear her? Did he understand the depth of her pain? Or was it just more noise to him, more evidence of her ‘discontent’? 

She wanted to collapse onto the floor, to cry, to let the emotions spill out. But instead, she stood frozen, her hands trembling at her sides. 

She didn’t know how long she stood there, but eventually, she left the kitchen and made her way up to her bedroom. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, but one thing was clear: the marriage she had entered was nothing like the one she had hoped for. 

And in that moment, she wasn’t sure if there was any way out of the mess they had created.