In love with my husband

First kiss.

What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, my voice shaking with rage.

Aaron blinked, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. "This was the only room available," he said, his tone calm but his eyes flickering with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I could feel my blood boiling. "How can a house like this have one room?!" I spat, glancing around the space in frustration. My parents had done this. I could feel their fingerprints all over it—no doubt my mother’s cruel little way of messing with me. I could practically hear her voice in my head, trying to make me miserable even from afar.

"What gave you the right to come in and lay on the bed?" I asked, my voice growing louder with each word. My patience was running thin.

Aaron looked at me as though I had grown two heads. "Excuse me?"

"You could've slept on the floor or the couch for all I care," I shot back. I was done. My parents may have pulled strings to keep me here, but I was in control now. Not him. Not anyone.

Aaron simply scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief, before turning and walking out without another word. Good riddance.

Who did he think he was? Just because he was the richest man in the country didn't mean he could do whatever he pleased, especially not around me. I wasn’t some small, naive girl anymore—the one his friends picked on in high school. I was a force to be reckoned with. I was the heiress to the second biggest robotics company in the country.

But here I was, stuck with him. And why? Because my parents, once again, had used their power to trap me. Either I stayed married to him, or I lost everything. I hated this, but it was the price I had to pay to keep my company. They knew exactly where my vulnerabilities lay and used them to control me.

I quickly showered, trying to shake off the frustration that threatened to overwhelm me. Sunday. The one day I had to myself. The one day I could be alone, away from the suffocating pressure my parents put on me. But even then, it felt like I was drowning.

I hated the people they forced me to socialize with. They were shallow, fake—just like everyone else in my life. I didn’t have friends. I had associates, people who would pretend to be kind to me as long as it suited them.

I needed a moment of peace, so I headed to a small coffee shop nearby. Coffee was my ritual, my solace. A cup of warmth to start the day, to ground me.

I stepped inside and placed my order, scanning the room for a quiet spot. That’s when I saw him.

Aaron. Sitting in a corner, casually sipping his coffee. He looked… good. Damn good. His hair was perfectly messy in that effortless way, and the way he held himself, relaxed yet commanding, made my heart skip a beat. I hated how much his presence still affected me, how easily he could make my pulse race.

I was caught staring, but when he met my gaze, I didn't look away. His eyes flickered, surprised, but he didn't break the stare. It was like some unspoken challenge, and I wasn’t going to back down.

My name was called, and I had to pull myself away, but not before I saw him. Saw him kiss some random girl.

What the f**k?

I couldn’t even process the feeling surging through me. Anger? Humiliation? I didn’t even know. But I was pissed, beyond pissed. I stormed out of the coffee shop, seething. I didn’t even know why it bothered me so much, but it did. I wasn’t supposed to care. I shouldn’t have cared. But damn it, I did.

I slammed the car door behind me and drove home, the need for some kind of release almost suffocating me. I needed to cool down, to make sense of what had just happened. A cold shower did nothing to calm the storm inside, so I brewed some tea and tried to breathe.

But as much as I tried to rationalize it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Aaron had disrespected me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I wasn’t his girlfriend. I wasn’t some woman he could kiss in front of me and just get away with it. No, I wasn’t having it.

The door slammed shut as Aaron entered the house. I was waiting for him, sitting cross-legged on the couch, already fuming. He walked straight past me, heading for the bathroom without a word. Typical. He wasn’t going to acknowledge anything, was he?

Minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist.

I was caught off guard. He looked… well, like a goddamn advertisement for some cologne, the water still glistening on his toned chest, his hair wet and messy in that stupidly attractive way.

He caught me staring. “You can stare if you want,” he said, voice laced with smugness. “I am your husband after all.”

I couldn’t help the eye roll that escaped my lips. “You wish,” I muttered, standing up to leave.

“Wait.” His voice stopped me, and I looked back at him, trying not to let my gaze drift lower. His abs… damn it.

“I’m sorry about the café,” Aaron said, walking toward me. “She kissed me. I was caught off guard. I used to date her.”

I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or angry. He wasn’t just some random asshole—he’d been with her before. But why the hell should I care?

“And why would I care?” I snapped, crossing my arms. “Like I said, this isn’t a love marriage. You can do whatever you want.”

His eyes shifted, something unreadable in them. Slowly, he moved closer, his body nearly touching mine, and I stepped back instinctively, hitting the wall behind me. He was too close. His breath was warm on my skin, his presence suffocating in a way I couldn't ignore.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice trembling between anger and something else I couldn’t quite place.

“What I should have done a long time ago,” he said, and before I could protest, his lips were on mine. Soft. Tempting. Too much.

I didn’t know why, but I responded. The kiss deepened, my senses spinning. I was lost in it, momentarily forgetting where I was, who I was with, what I was doing.

Then I snapped out of it.

No. No.

I shoved him away with all the strength I could muster and slapped him across the face. It echoed through the room, sharp and satisfying. “Don’t ever touch me again,” I hissed, and without waiting for a response, I turned and stormed out.

I couldn’t let him win. Not like this. Not ever.