Ashley
The front door of the Holt mansion opened with a soft click, letting in a gust of crisp winter air. Christian stepped inside first, Symphony in his arms, wrapped in soft pink blankets.
Behind them, the driver followed, arms full of glossy shopping bags.
.. tiny pastel outfits, soft silk blankets, a delicate silver rattle engraved with Symphony’s name.
Victoria followed close behind, carrying a few smaller packages, her face glowing with the rare satisfaction of a successful outing.
Sally, the nanny, collected Symphony from his arms. The baby fussed for a second, small fists waving, before settling in nanny's arms. Christian watched her go up the stairs, something unreadable flickering in his hazel eyes.
He dropped onto the wide leather couch in the living room, loosening his tie with a tired exhale. The day had been long... meetings, calls, the constant pull of responsibilities he carried alone now, and then shopping for Symphony.
Ashley appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel, a bright smile lighting her face.
“I made lunch for everyone!” she chirped, voice light and cheerful. “Chicken salad wraps, fresh fruit, and that lemon tart you like, Victoria. Everything’s ready whenever you are.”
Victoria’s expression softened instantly. She set her bags down and crossed to Ashley, touching her arm with genuine warmth.
“Oh, Ashley, you’re an angel,” she said, voice warm. “Always so thoughtful. So caring. Thank you, darling.”
Ashley beamed, cheeks flushing. “It’s nothing. I just love taking care of the family.” She glanced at Christian, eyes hopeful. “I’ll go set the table now.”
She turned and disappeared back toward the dining room, humming softly.
Victoria waited until Ashley was out of earshot, then sat beside Christian, folding her hands in her lap.
“She’s wonderful, isn’t she?” Victoria said, tone almost reverent. “Always thinking of others. So loving. So devoted. You know, Christian, I still don’t understand why you ever let her go.”
Christian’s jaw tightened. He stared straight ahead at the fireplace, flames crackling low.
Victoria didn’t stop.
“I mean, look at her... beautiful, kind, from a good family. She would have been the perfect wife. The perfect mother to your children. Instead, you threw it all away to marry… her.”
She gestured vaguely toward the stairs, as if Melody were something distasteful left in the corner.
“That woman upstairs? She’s a disaster. A murderer who tricked her way into this family. She doesn’t deserve a single thing she has... least of all that child. You should have seen the way she was pawing at Symphony earlier. Disgusting. Ashley would never—”
“Enough, Mother.”
Christian’s voice cut through the air, low and sharp.
Victoria blinked, surprised, but recovered quickly. “I’m only saying what everyone thinks, Christian. You deserve better. We all do. Ashley is—”
“I said enough.”
He stood abruptly, shoulders rigid, hands clenched at his sides. The warmth from the fire did nothing to soften the cold anger in his eyes.
Without another word, he turned and walked toward the hallway, footsteps heavy on the marble.
Victoria stared after him, lips parting in shock.
“Christian—”
He didn’t stop. Didn’t look back.
The door to his study closed with a firm thud behind him, leaving Victoria alone in the living room, the crackle of the fire the only sound left in the sudden silence.
×××××××
I still remember the exact moment my heart broke for the first time over Christian Holt.
It was a Thursday afternoon, late spring, the office buzzing with the usual quiet energy. I was at my desk, finalizing a risk assessment, when I heard her laugh... bright, confident, the kind that turns heads.
I looked up.
Ashley was standing by Christian’s office door, one hand on his arm, leaning in close as she spoke.
He was smiling. Not the polite boardroom smile, but something softer, warmer, the one he saved for people he actually liked.
She said something, and he laughed low and genuine, and brushed a strand of hair from her face like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I felt it like a punch to the chest.
My pen slipped from my fingers. The room tilted for a second. I stared at them, at how easy they looked together, how perfectly they fit, and something inside me cracked open and bled.
That was the first time I truly understood he would never look at me that way.
I sat there, frozen, while they walked past my desk toward the elevator. Ashley’s arm looped through his, her head tilted toward him, and he didn’t pull away. He didn’t even glance in my direction.
I told myself it was stupid. Childish. He was never mine to lose. But the ache stayed anyway... sharp, hot, lodged right under my ribs.
Then came the company family event that summer. The rooftop garden party, all string lights and champagne and laughter. I went because I was invited too.
I saw them again.
Christian and Ashley, standing near the railing, her hand on his chest while he pointed out something in the city skyline.
And then… the kids. The little ones from the other executives’ families ran up to them, tugging at Christian’s sleeve, giggling when he crouched down to their level and let them climb on his back.
Ashley laughed, ruffled one of the little girl’s hair, and said something that made the child beam.
They looked like a family.
A real one.
Happy. Complete. The kind of picture I had secretly dreamed about since the day I met him.
My heart didn’t just break that night... it shattered.
I slipped away to the quiet corner near the bar, pressed my back to the wall, and cried silently into my sleeve while the party carried on without me. No one noticed. No one ever did.
After that, I tried so hard to stop.
I stopped looking his way in meetings. Stopped lingering when he walked past. Stopped replaying every small interaction in my head at night.
I told myself he was just a man. A handsome, unavailable man, and I was being foolish.
I buried the feelings under work, under spreadsheets, under anything that would keep me busy.
But every time he appeared, it happened again.
He’d walk into a room, sleeves rolled up, hair slightly messy from a long day, and my breath would catch.
He’d say my name, quiet and professional, and my stupid heart would flutter like it was the first time.
He’d smile at something I said in a presentation, just a quick lift of his lips, and I’d fall all over again.
I hated myself for it.
I hated how weak I was, how I couldn’t kill the part of me that still hoped. Still wanted. Still loved him in secret, even after seeing him choose someone else.
Even now, that stupid, stubborn crush lingers like a bruise that never heals.
I don’t know how to stop loving him.
I don’t know if I ever will.
—Melody
×××××××
Christian sat alone in his study, the heavy oak door closed against the world.
The desk lamp cast a warm, isolated glow over scattered papers.
.. projections, contracts, the endless grind of an empire he’d never wanted to run alone.
But work wasn’t what occupied his mind tonight.
He leaned back in the leather chair, fingers steepled under his chin, hazel eyes staring unseeing at the dark window where his reflection stared back: tired, shadowed, haunted.
He hated having Ashley by his side.
The thought came unbidden, sharp and honest in the quiet.
She was beautiful, polished, always saying the right things at the right times.
But every touch felt wrong... forced, like a role he was playing in someone else’s story.
He’d started dating her deliberately, back then, to drown out the noise in his head. To forget Melody.
God, Melody.
Even now, the name twisted something deep in his chest.
It had all been for Ashton. His brother had come to him first, eyes lit with that rare excitement, confessing his feelings for her.
Christian had swallowed his own confession right then.
.. buried the way his pulse jumped every time Melody walked into a room, the way he’d steal glances at her focused profile during meetings, the quiet thrill when she’d loosen her long black hair at the end of a long day and let it cascade down like midnight silk.
He couldn’t stand in his brother’s way. Ashton was everything to him.
.. the protector, the guide, the one who’d always had his back.
So Christian had stepped aside. Smiled. Encouraged.
And to make sure he didn’t slip, he’d turned to Ashley.
.. a distraction, a shield against the ache of wanting what he couldn’t have.
But it hadn’t worked.
Not really.
And then Melody had changed.
He rubbed a hand over his face, the memory stinging fresh.
She’d been warm at first... subtle, but there: a quick smile when their eyes met, a soft laugh at one of his rare jokes, the way she’d linger just a second longer when handing him reports. It had fueled his secret hope, even as he dated Ashley to bury it.
But over time, after that company event, maybe? She grew colder. Distant. Her gaze would slide away from his in meetings. She’d leave rooms earlier, stop staying late when he did. No more shared glances. No more quiet conversations.
It had hurt like hell.
A slow, grinding ache that built with every ignored moment. He’d replayed it in his mind a thousand times: What had he done? What had changed? He had no idea why she pulled away, why the spark he’d imagined between them faded into nothing.
He’d told himself it was for the best. That it made stepping aside easier. But it hadn’t. It had only made the longing sharper, the nights longer.
And now… now she was his wife. Trapped in a marriage built on hate. And he was the one who had built it.
Christian closed his eyes, the weight of it all pressing down.
It doesn’t matter anymore.
She’s not the woman I thought she was.
She took Ashton from me.
But even as the words echoed in his head, the old ache lingered... like a ghost he couldn’t quite banish.
×××××××