Not because of peace, but because of awareness. The photos from Soraya’s photoshoot had gone viral — not just for her elegance, but because of one candid frame. She was smiling, and Reian was looking at her like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

It wasn’t part of the official release. Someone at the shoot had leaked it.

And it had changed things.

The wives didn’t say much. But glances were longer. Greetings more cautious. Only Sera remained oddly unmoved — unreadable, sipping her wine like usual.

And then, she made her move.

---

Some days earlier

In a separate group chat — one not including Mina, Elia, or Ari — Sera messaged one name.

Sera: “Hana.”

Ari: “Reian’s Hana?”

Sera: “The same. Still in touch?”

Ari: “Of course. She and my husband were friends before we even married.”

Sera: “Invite her. Let’s see if the villa still smiles.”

The reply came a moment later.

Ari: “Done. She’ll stay the week.”

---

Soraya arrived home later than usual. Her lectures had extended, and she stayed back to finish paperwork.

The living room was lively — too lively. Someone was laughing in the kitchen.

Someone unfamiliar.

She entered, dropping her keys into the bowl. And there, barefoot and confident in the shared kitchen, was a woman plating dinner.

Hana turned.

“Hi,” she said, offering a gentle smile. “I’m Hana. Just visiting for a few days.”

Soraya blinked. “Oh. I see.”

No one had mentioned a guest.

Before she could say more, Reian stepped in from the hallway, then froze mid-step.

“Hana?”

The name left his mouth before he could stop it.

Her smile softened. “Hey. It’s been a while.”

He recovered too slowly.

Soraya caught it — the flicker in his expression, the tightening in his jaw.

But she said nothing.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” he added, voice neutral.

“Your... friend invited me. Said the guest room was open.”

Soraya quietly set down her bag and moved past them toward the hallway.

Dinner was already served by the time she returned, freshly showered and dressed down.

Hana had set the table. She sat close to Reian.

Too close.

---

Hana laughed lightly. “I hope the rice isn’t undercooked. I couldn’t remember if you liked it softer or firmer.”

Reian didn’t respond immediately.

“I’m not picky.”

“I remember you were,” she replied, then turned slightly toward Soraya. “What do you think?”

The question felt like a trap, but Soraya’s face remained smooth.

“I’m not the one you cooked for.”

The table went quiet.

Reian cleared his throat. “The rice is fine.”

---

Reian found Hana in the kitchen, wrapping up leftovers.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly.

Hana turned. “I’m not trying to start anything. I just wanted... to see.”

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “To see what? If I was still the same idiot who waited for you to pick him back?”

She flinched, but didn’t drop her gaze. “I didn’t come for drama. I came because I was curious — and maybe because I still felt guilty.”

“Then say you’re sorry. And leave it at that.”

“I am sorry. For how I ended it. For the way I ghosted everything when it got hard.”

Reian sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t hate you. But this — this isn’t fair.”

“I know.”

He didn’t move. “You’ve had years to show up. Why now?”

She hesitated. “Because it finally looks like you’ve moved on.”

He didn’t reply. The words landed harder than he wanted to admit.

---

She wasn’t eavesdropping.

She just stood in the hallway, frozen for a second too long, holding her glass of water.

Then she turned away and walked back to her room.

Without a word.