The muted laughter from Adam's office seeped through the glass, a cruel symphony to Aria's ears. She watched, a silent spectator to the reunion of her husband and his first love, Sophia. Each peal of Adam's genuine mirth was a shard in her chest, a painful reminder of the laughter he never shared with her.

His office blinds descended abruptly, plunging her view into a sudden, suffocating blackness. It felt symbolic, a curtain drawn not just on their interaction, but on her very presence in his life. She was his wife, yet he shielded his past from her, especially when it came cloaked in the elegant form of Sophia.

The memory of Sophia's arrival still stung. "Aria, I didn't know you still worked here!" she'd chirped, her red-lipped smile a stark contrast to Aria's quiet gray.

Now, alone in her office, the muffled sounds of their intimacy were a torment. Today was their third wedding anniversary. She knew he'd forgotten, but the ache was no less profound.

Her eyes fell to the red-marked date on her calendar. It was a secret she held as his secretary—Sophia's visit. A visit Adam had conveniently omitted the full truth of. Her heart ached, a familiar, desolate pang. There was nothing she could do, for she held no place in his heart, only he in hers.