Heat and Distance
730 Words
The house was too quiet again.
Aria stood under the hot stream of the shower, hoping it would wash away the voices from last night — the almost kiss, the heartbreak, and the weight of all the words they never said.
But water couldn’t cleanse the ache in her chest.
Wrapped in a towel, she stepped out — only to find Liam standing outside the bathroom door, shirtless, damp towel slung low on his hips.
She froze.
So did he.
For a moment, neither of them moved — steam curling around them like tension made visible.
“I was going to wait until you were done,” Liam said, voice low, eyes flicking briefly down before locking back on hers.
Her skin prickled.
“Oh,” she said, stepping aside awkwardly. “It’s… fine.”
She walked past him, but brushed his arm lightly by accident.
That one second of contact felt hotter than the water she’d just stepped out of.
---
Later, in the kitchen, Aria tried to ignore how he moved — relaxed but powerful. Like he didn’t know the effect he had. Or maybe he did.
He leaned against the counter, scrolling through his phone.
“You have a charity dinner tomorrow night,” he said, not looking up.
She blinked. “Another one?”
“You agreed to attend these as part of the marriage terms.”
“I agreed to wear a ring, smile for photos, and not embarrass you,” she said, sipping her coffee. “I don’t recall giving up my weekends.”
He looked up slowly. “You’re my wife, Aria. At least try to act like it.”
“Maybe you should try to act like a husband first,” she snapped.
The air sizzled.
Neither of them backed down.
Then Liam muttered, “Wear red.”
“What?”
“At the dinner. Wear red,” he said, gaze intense. “It suits you.”
---
🔹 The Next Night
Aria stepped out of the car in a blood-red satin gown that hugged her like a second skin. Her lips were deep crimson, hair in soft waves, and a cool, defiant expression on her face.
Liam’s breath caught — just for a second — but he said nothing.
Inside, the ballroom was crowded with Manhattan’s elite.
Cameras. Murmurs. Envy.
But all Liam saw was her.
And so did someone else.
A man approached Aria with a charming smile — young, tall, sharp suit.
“Aria, right? I’ve seen you at the Harper event. Stunning, as always.”
She smiled politely. “Thank you. And you are…?”
Before he could answer, Liam’s hand slid possessively around her waist.
“She’s taken,” he said flatly.
The man raised an eyebrow. “Of course. Just being friendly.”
“Be friendly elsewhere,” Liam muttered, pulling Aria away.
She yanked her arm free once they were in the corner.
“What the hell was that?” she hissed.
He turned to her, jaw tight. “He was flirting with you.”
“And so what?” she snapped. “I’m not your damn property.”
“You’re my wife,” he said, voice low, teeth clenched. “And I don’t share.”
She stared at him. “You don’t even look at me half the time.”
He stepped closer. “That doesn’t mean I don’t notice.”
Her heart stammered. Her breath caught.
And for a moment, she forgot how to hate him.
---
🔹 Back at Home…
Silence blanketed the car, but the tension throbbed in the air.
As soon as they entered the house, Aria turned to walk away, but Liam grabbed her wrist.
“Don’t do that,” he said.
“Do what?”
“Act like you don’t feel anything,” he said, voice softer now. “You looked at him like he mattered.”
She swallowed hard. “Maybe he did. At least he didn’t treat me like a burden.”
He stared at her. His next words came out like fire and pain all wrapped in silk.
> “You are not a burden. You’re the one thing I can’t afford to lose—so I keep you where no one can touch you.”
Her breath hitched.
His hand was still around her wrist. And he didn’t let go.
And neither did she.
- Writer
