Bound by Loyalty

Bound by Loyalty
Ashton’s POV

That morning, I walked into the conference room with a file and my laptop in hand. The company building was busier than usual; there was a joint meeting with the marketing team, and of course—Sandra was leading them. The moment my eyes landed on her figure at the far end of the table, something unpleasant stirred in my chest.

Sandra flashed a confident smile. Her gaze locked on me immediately, as if to remind me that we had a past that refused to die.

“Ashton, it’s been a while since we shared the same room,” she said as the meeting began. Her voice carried a light tone, but I knew there was something hidden underneath.

I forced myself not to react more than necessary. “Let’s focus on the presentation,” I replied curtly, cold.

All throughout the meeting, I could feel her attempts. Sandra kept trying to pull my attention, sometimes with sharp remarks aimed deliberately at me, sometimes by slipping me little notes as if we still shared some secret language. But I gave her no opening. I had promised myself, and Lily, that I would never let that toxic past seep into my life again.

Still, Sandra wasn’t the kind to surrender easily. When the meeting ended, she walked beside me, matching my steps. Her voice dropped, more personal.

“You know, Ashton… I miss the old days. We were a great pair, weren’t we?” she whispered.

I stopped in my tracks. My jaw tightened as I looked straight at her. “That was then, Sandra. I’m married now. I love my wife. Don’t confuse the past with reality.”

For a split second her eyes dimmed, but she quickly masked it with a sly smile. “I can’t forget you that easily. And I know, somewhere deep down, you still feel something for me.”

I drew in a long breath, forcing back the surge inside me. Sandra was a master of words, skilled at digging into doubts.

But then my phone lit up with a message from Lily:

I made your favorite pancakes this morning. Don’t forget to eat before your meeting, love.

Just reading those words was enough to warm my chest. I could see Lily in my mind—the messy hair as she cooked, the honest smile when she placed a simple plate in front of me, filled with love.

I turned back to Sandra, my gaze unwavering. “Don’t you ever compare yourself to Lily. You could never replace what she gives me.”

Sandra froze for a fraction of a second, her face stung. But she covered it quickly with a soft laugh. “You’re as stubborn as ever.”

“Let me be clear,” I said, my voice low and steady, “Lily is my home. And I won’t let anyone destroy that.”

I didn’t wait for her response. I walked away, leaving her behind with a sharp look that no longer carried weight in my heart.



That night, I came home later than usual. The moment I opened the door, I saw Lily waiting in the living room, wearing a loose sweater. Her face was sleepy, but her smile was warm as always.

“You’re finally home,” she said softly, standing to wrap me in her arms.

That embrace washed away all the poison left from my encounter with Sandra. I lowered my head, pressing a long kiss to my wife’s forehead, as if reminding myself what was real, what truly mattered.

“I missed you,” I whispered, my voice rough with emotions I had been holding back all day.

Lily chuckled lightly. “It’s only been a day, Ashton.”

“But it feels like years,” I answered honestly, making her blush.

We spent the night talking lightly on the sofa. Lily told me about her new plant that had begun to bloom, about a cake recipe she tried and failed. I listened intently, slipping kisses to her cheek, her hair. There was a quiet intimacy in it, one far stronger than any grand temptation.

When Lily fell asleep against my shoulder, I studied her face for a long time. A small smile tugged at my lips. And in that moment, I made the promise again: whatever Sandra tried, she would never shake the home I had built with Lily.



The next day I had to face Sandra again in the follow-up meeting. She seemed more aggressive; this time she deliberately sat next to me. Her body leaned a little too close, and in a low voice she murmured, “Lily doesn’t have to know you still feel something for me.”

I shot her a hard look. “Stop it, Sandra. Don’t ever drag Lily’s name into this. I will never betray her.”

“Really?” she arched a brow. “Then why do your eyes still find me sometimes?”

Her question hit like a dart. Not because it was true, but because I knew how easily Sandra twisted perception. She wanted to plant doubt, to make me question myself.

I straightened, answering with unshakable resolve. “What I see when I look at you is my own weakness. And every time I see you, I know more clearly that I never want to go back to the past.”

Sandra fell silent. For once, she was left without words.



That night, I decided to take Lily out to dinner. A small restaurant we loved, far from the city’s noise.

As we sat across from each other, candlelight casting a gentle glow across her face, I held her hand tightly and met her eyes.

“What is it?” Lily asked, surprised by my sudden seriousness.

I lowered my head and kissed the back of her hand. “I just want you to know—nothing could ever replace you. You’re the only one I want, Lily.”

Her smile trembled, her eyes shimmering. “Me too, Ash. You’re my home.”

The words sank deep, anchoring me once more.

No matter how hard Sandra tried to tempt me, I knew my heart was already bound. And every time I returned home, every time Lily greeted me with her simple, radiant smile, I realized—this was the greatest victory of my life.