I stared at Adrian.

He had already released me and taken two steps toward the door.

His expression was composed again.

Almost indifferent.

But inside my head, his thoughts were anything but calm.

【Leave now.】

【If I stay another minute, I’ll probably tell her everything.】

【She already lost the Bennett family. She doesn’t need a husband making her uncomfortable too.】

I frowned.

That thought was different.

Not excited.

Not flustered.

Afraid.

For me.

—Adrian.

He stopped.

—What?

—Why did you marry me?

His shoulders became slightly rigid.

—We already discussed this.

—No. Everyone else discussed it.

I sat up.

—I want your answer.

He turned.

His face revealed nothing.

—Because we were engaged.

Inside:

【Because I’ve wanted to marry you since I was twenty-one.】

My fingers tightened around the blanket.

Twenty-one?

We had officially met only two years ago.

Or so I thought.

I deliberately asked:

—If Emily had appeared before our wedding, would you have married her instead?

His eyes immediately became cold.

—No.

Inside, however, there was outrage.

【Emily? Why would I marry Emily?】

【I don’t even know what perfume she wears.】

【Sophie likes jasmine tea, hates raisins, sleeps with the window slightly open and gets headaches if she skips lunch.】

I blinked.

He knew all that?

Then another thought came.

【Besides, I spent years waiting for Sophie to notice me. I’m not changing wives because of a DNA report.】

Years.

There it was again.

I got out of bed.

Adrian frowned.

—Where are you going?

—To find something.

I walked past him.

He followed.

—What?

—I don’t know yet.

That was partly true.

I went to the study.

Adrian almost never let anyone touch the locked cabinet beside his desk.

That evening, I pointed at it.

—Open that.

His expression changed.

—Why?

—I want to see it.

【Absolutely not.】

I almost laughed.

—Adrian?

—There is nothing important inside.

【There are eighteen photographs of her in there.】

I stopped smiling.

Eighteen?

—Open it.

He looked at me suspiciously.

—Why are you suddenly interested in my cabinet?

I folded my arms.

—Are you hiding something?

His jaw tightened.

Then came the thought:

【Technically, obsessive collection of newspaper clippings about your own wife might look strange.】

I had to turn away.

Newspaper clippings?

Finally, Adrian unlocked the cabinet.

Inside were business documents.

Investment reports.

Old files.

Nothing unusual.

Until I noticed a wooden box on the bottom shelf.

His thoughts immediately exploded.

【Not that one.】

I reached for it.

Adrian caught my wrist.

The first voluntary touch he had ever initiated.

Both of us froze.

His hand was warm.

Inside his head:

【I’m touching her.】

【Why is this somehow more terrifying than negotiating a billion-dollar acquisition?】

I slowly looked at him.

—Let go.

He released me immediately.

I opened the box.

The first photograph was of me at nineteen.

I was standing outside a university auditorium holding an award certificate.

I remembered that day.

My architectural-design competition.

My parents had sent a driver because they were too busy to attend.

I had smiled for the photograph anyway.

On the back was a date.

And one line in Adrian’s handwriting:

“She looked happy even though no one came for her.”

My throat tightened.

The second photograph was from a charity auction.

I was twenty.

Another from an art exhibition.

Another from a hospital fundraiser.

Some were newspaper clippings.

Some were event photographs.

One was a badly focused image of me laughing while eating ice cream at a street festival.

I looked up.

—Where did you get these?

Adrian’s face had gone completely still.

—I don’t remember.

Inside:

【Lie. Terrible lie.】

【I remember every single one.】

I almost smiled despite myself.

Then I found the oldest photograph.

I was seventeen.

Standing in front of a bookstore.

Beside me was a younger Adrian Harrison.

I stared.

—We met before?

He was silent.

And then I remembered.

A rainy afternoon.

A boy in a dark school uniform sitting alone beneath the awning of a bookstore.

His hand had been injured.

I had offered him a bandage from my backpack.

We spoke for perhaps ten minutes.

I never asked his full name.

He had seemed shy.

Quiet.

Nothing like the man standing before me now.

My eyes widened.

—That was you?

Adrian looked away.

—Yes.

Inside:

【She remembers.】

【She actually remembers.】

His ears turned red again.

I looked back at the photograph.

—You fell in love with me because I gave you a bandage?

His dignity visibly suffered.

—Of course not.

Inside:

【A little.】

I burst out laughing.

Adrian stared at me.

—What is funny?

—Nothing.

I covered my mouth.

—Please continue.

He looked suspicious.

Then, perhaps realizing there was no dignified escape, he finally told me.

After that bookstore meeting, he discovered who I was through a school charity event.

Years later, we kept appearing at the same social functions.

He never approached.

At first because I always seemed surrounded by friends.

Later because I was publicly known as the Bennett family’s treasured daughter, while the Harrisons were already negotiating marriages and business alliances.

—Why didn’t you tell me?

He answered quietly:

—I didn’t think you would remember me.

Inside:

【And I was terrified you would laugh.】

That made my heart ache.

Adrian Harrison.

Terrifying to everyone else.

Afraid of being laughed at by me.

Then I understood something else.

—So when my identity was exposed…

His expression became colder.

—The Bennetts behaved disgracefully.

Inside:

【They abandoned her after raising her for twenty-four years.】

【If I had been there when Mrs. Bennett told her to leave, I would have bought that entire house just to throw them out of it.】

I nearly choked.

—Adrian.

—What?

—Nothing.

I sat on the edge of his desk.

—Why did you keep your distance after we married?

For the first time, he looked uncomfortable.

—I thought you needed time.

I waited.

He continued:

—Your entire life changed in a matter of days.

—You lost the family you thought was yours.

—Then suddenly you married me.

His voice lowered.

—I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of the fact that you had nowhere else to go.

The laughter disappeared from my face.

Inside, his thought came quietly.

【She had already lost the right to choose too many things.】

【I wanted at least this marriage to become something she chose for herself.】

Something warm filled my chest.

All this time I had thought his distance meant rejection.

But he had been waiting.

Not because he didn’t want me.

Because he wanted me to have a choice.

I whispered:

—You could have told me.

Adrian gave me an almost helpless look.

—I’m not good at these conversations.

I smiled.

—I noticed.

After that, our marriage changed.

At first, only for me.

Because Adrian still didn’t know that I could hear every thought he tried so desperately to hide.

At breakfast, I deliberately sat beside him instead of across from him.

His expression remained calm.

Inside:

【She moved closer.】

【Do not react.】

【Eat normally.】

【Why can I hear her breathing?】

I offered him a strawberry.

—Want one?

—No.

【Yes. She touched that one.】

I put it on his plate anyway.

He ate it.

Another evening, I walked into his study wearing one of his sweaters because mine was in the laundry.

He looked up once.

Then immediately returned to his laptop.

【My sweater.】

【She is wearing my sweater.】

【This is the greatest day of my life.】

I sat opposite him.

—You’re smiling.

His face immediately flattened.

—I’m not.

I nearly fell off the chair laughing.

But things became more serious when Emily came to visit.

She arrived without warning.

The moment she entered, Adrian’s expression cooled.

Emily smiled at him.

—Brother Adrian.

Inside his head:

【We are absolutely not close enough for that.】

I looked down to hide my smile.

Emily turned toward me.

—Sophie, Mom wants you to come home tomorrow.

Home.

The word still hurt.

—Why?

—There’s a family dinner. Some relatives are asking questions.

Of course.

Not because they missed me.

Because my absence was becoming socially inconvenient.

—I have plans.

Emily sighed.

—You don’t have to be difficult. Mom and Dad are already under pressure because everyone is criticizing how they handled things.

I felt Adrian’s presence change.

His voice remained calm.

—Then perhaps they should endure the consequences of how they handled things.

Emily stiffened.

—This is a Bennett family matter.

Adrian looked at her.

—Sophie is a Harrison.

Inside:

【And if they make her cry again, the Bennett family will discover exactly how unpleasant I can be.】

My eyes burned.

Emily left quickly.

That night, I asked:

—Do you regret marrying me now that I’m not a Bennett?

Adrian looked almost offended.

—No.

—Not even a little?

—Sophie.

He put down his book.

—Listen carefully.

Then, for once, his spoken words were almost identical to what I heard inside.

—Your surname was never the reason I wanted you.

My heart stopped.

He immediately seemed to regret saying so much.

Inside:

【Too direct.】

【She’s going to realize.】

I smiled.

Maybe it was time.

I moved closer.

—Adrian, what if I already know?

He frowned.

—Know what?

—That you’ve been in love with me for years.

Silence.

Complete silence.

His face didn’t change.

But inside his head:

【WHAT?】

I laughed.

Adrian slowly stood.

—Who told you?

—You did.

His eyes narrowed.

—I did not.

—Constantly.

He stared at me as if I had lost my mind.

So I decided to prove it.

—I know you hate raisins.

—Anyone could know that.

—I know you kept eighteen photographs of me.

His expression darkened.

—You saw the box.

—I know you thought I looked beautiful asleep on the couch.

He froze.

I continued, smiling.

—I know you wanted to hug me.

His face went pale.

—Sophie—

—I know you nearly had a heart attack when I called you husband.

His ears turned red.

I leaned closer.

—And right now you’re thinking—

I paused.

Then I heard it.

【Please don’t say she can hear my thoughts.】

I whispered:

—That you hope I can’t hear your thoughts.

Adrian Harrison stopped breathing.

For the first time since I’d known him, he looked genuinely horrified.

—How long?

I laughed.

—Since the couch.

He closed his eyes.

—I’m moving abroad.

That made me laugh harder.

—You’re not.

—I have no dignity left in this house.

I grabbed his hand.

This time he didn’t pull away.

—Adrian.

He looked at me.

—You know what’s strange?

—What?

—I spent two months thinking my husband couldn’t stand touching me.

His face softened.

—I wanted to.

—I know.

—No, you don’t understand.

Inside:

【Every single day.】

I smiled.

—I understand perfectly.

He groaned.

—Stop doing that.

I intertwined my fingers with his.

Our first real handhold.

His thoughts immediately went quiet.

Not because I had lost the ability.

Because for several seconds, Adrian genuinely seemed unable to think.

Then one thought appeared.

Soft.

Simple.

【She chose me.】

My eyes filled.

I squeezed his hand.

—Yes.

He frowned.

—Yes what?

—Nothing.

I smiled.

—Just keep holding my hand.

And he did.

Months later, people still described Adrian Harrison as cold.

Intimidating.

Unreadable.

They never understood why I always smiled whenever he stared silently at me during dinners.

They couldn’t hear what I heard.

While his face remained expressionless:

【Did she eat enough?】

【She’s tired. We should leave early.】

【That dress is dangerous.】

【Don’t stare. Her father is right there.】

And sometimes, when he thought I was asleep:

【I still can’t believe she’s my wife.】

The strange ability eventually faded.

One morning, I woke up and realized I could no longer hear him.

For a moment, I felt almost sad.

Then Adrian opened his eyes.

He looked at me.

—Good morning.

—Morning.

He hesitated.

Then pulled me closer without being asked.

No thoughts necessary.

He kissed my forehead.

—I love you.

I smiled against his chest.

That was when I realized I didn’t miss hearing his mind at all.

Because the man who once hid every feeling behind silence had finally learned to say them aloud.

Two months into our marriage, I believed Adrian Harrison had never touched me because he didn’t want me.

The truth was almost embarrassingly opposite.

He had loved me for years and kept his distance because he wanted my first real step toward him to be mine.

And in the end, the most important thing I ever heard inside his head was not that he wanted to hold me.

It was the thought that appeared the first time I voluntarily held his hand:

【She chose me.】

He was right.

I had.