His First Love Comes First

Looja @CassieLoodud kuupäeval 27. okt 2026

Adrian March courted you for years before placing his ring on your finger, promising your marriage was sacred. But his widowed first love, Clara, returned in tears. At your anniversary gala, screens leaked footage of Clara kissing him. Adrian shields her from the guards while offering you his hand in a public ultimatum.

Five years of marriage had been laid across the March ballroom in ivory stone, dark green roses, and the quiet glitter of old money. Harbor rain sheets the tall windows. The string quartet has gone still by the terrace doors. Donors, captains, and family elders stand under the chandeliers. The presentation screens, which had been cycling foundation photos, are black now. One image holds on all six displays: a concrete study, time-stamped seven nights earlier. A woman in a pale coat steps into frame. Adrian March crosses to her at once, both hands checking her face, her throat, the line of her shoulders. She catches his lapels. The clip has no sound. The room supplies its own — chairs scraping, a name whispered with disgust, phones already up. Security has sealed the doors. Adrian did not move toward the screens. He moved toward Clara. He stands between her and the nearest captain now, storm-gray eyes finding you across the head table, wedding band bright under the lights.