Briony Kensington and Stewart Wentworth had been secretly married for five years-living as husband and wife in form, but never in feeling.

Or rather, if Briony felt anything at all for her husband, she hid it so well that not a trace ever showed.

On Christmas Eve, the city outside was alive with lights and laughter, the streets blanketed with fresh snow. Inside the vast, echoing halls of Southcreek Manor, Briony sat alone.

She'd made herself a bowl of pasta, but hadn't taken a single bite.

Her phone lay on the table, screen aglow with a video from social media—

A man's slender, elegant hand slid a diamond ring onto a woman's delicate finger. The woman's voice, bright and sweet, chimed in the caption: "Mr. Wentworth, here's to the rest of our lives."

Briony's eyes were drawn to the watch on the man's wrist-a limited edition piece, unmistakably his. A sharp ache twisted in her chest.

The video had long since paused, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. She watched it over and over, torturing herself with the certainty.

Six months ago, this woman had sent her a friend request out of the blue.

Ever since, Briony had seen her husband pop up in the woman's posts with disturbing regularity.

Five years of marriage, and only tonight did Briony realize Stewart was capable of tenderness, of romance, of caring attention.

steaming, had gone

fork, but

untouched, something she shouldn't

tears fall. She stood, washed up, and retreated to

but the silence was broken by the quiet rustle of

lay on her

felt the

moment later, his body

Briony's brow furrowed.

pushed up, his warm, dry

jolted, eyes flying

above her, the bridge of his nose framed by his familiar silver-rimmed glasses. The bedside lamp cast a soft

his dark eyes were

Her voice came out soft and

rims of her eyes, one eyebrow arching. "Not

above a

His voice was low and rough, colored with an intimacy

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