My Lover Confronted My Legal Husband

Emilia was momentarily stunned by the unexpected kiss. Three years of Zahir's unpredictable behavior had taught her to expect the unexpected, but he usually saved these little stunts for when they were behind closed doors. Now he was pulling this in front of her legal husband—and despite the amnesia, she couldn't shake the sting of guilt.

She pushed him back gently, flicking his forehead with her finger. "Zahir! Don't be so reckless!"

Only then did she turn to Joseph Cook—her husband—clearing her throat. "I'm sorry. Zahir grew up in the countryside. He's a bit too straightforward. Please don't take it personally."

Joseph took in her explanation, his sharp eyes narrowing. Was she really apologizing to him—for another man?

The Emilia he knew was decisive, cold as a machine, never wasting energy on unnecessary feelings. But now...

He pressed his lips together and let out a flat, noncommittal "Hmm."

Zahir caught the shift in Emilia's loyalty and shot Joseph a triumphant look. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, all soft and clingy like an overgrown golden retriever.

"Emilia, don't be mad. I just missed you..."

"We've been inseparable these past three years. Without you, I can't eat, I can't sleep... Emilia, can you honestly bear to leave me?"

"But—"

"Emilia~"

His eyes welled up, and he gave her arm a little shake, the silver locket around his neck swinging with the motion. His shirt slipped open just a fraction, offering a glimpse of his collarbone, his clean, fresh presence making him seem even more endearing.

Emilia's heart went soft instantly. Who could resist a big, tail-wagging pup?

Just as she was about to cave, Joseph spoke up.

"I do appreciate Mr. Willis for saving my wife—truly," he said, adjusting the glasses on his nose, his voice as biting as a March wind. "But now that my wife is back, we intend to properly thank you. However, I'd prefer it if you didn't... get too involved."

Zahir caught the implication loud and clear. Husband? Benefactor? He ground his teeth silently, then tightened his grip on Emilia's waist, his lips curling into a defiant smirk.

"For three years, I've been the one taking care of Emilia. I'm the one who knows her likes, her dislikes, everything."

"As far as she's concerned, whether it's Washington, the Harvey family, or you, Mr. Cook—you're all just strangers."

He lifted his chin, eyes flashing with a challenge. "When it comes to love, the one who isn't loved should be the one to step aside gracefully. I trust Mr. Cook can understand that?"

The air in the room turned thick enough to choke on.

The two men locked eyes in a silent standoff, neither willing to blink first.

Emilia had never seen Zahir like this—he was usually all warmth and sweetness, no temper to speak of. And Joseph, always the composed gentleman, now seemed two seconds away from throwing a punch.

Stuck between them, Emilia felt like the filling in a sandwich cookie—crushed from both sides, no room to move.

Afraid she might crack under the pressure, she clutched her head, faking a wince as she leaned into Milana, pinching her waist on the sly.

"Ow... my head... it hurts..."

Milana caught on instantly. Emilia was always quick on her feet!

She immediately steadied Emilia, her voice urgent: "Mr. Cook, Mr. Willis, please stop arguing. Ms. Harvey, she—"

Zahir's attention snapped to Emilia, concern wiping out everything else. He scooped her up without a second thought, worry cracking his voice. "Emilia, what's wrong? Let's get you to a hospital!"

Joseph, a beat slower, let his hand—which had hovered mid-air—fall. His jaw tight, he ordered, "Get in the car. We're going to the hospital."

Emilia waved a weak hand from Zahir's arms, her voice feathery. "No need. Just some memory flashes—they come and go. Let's head back? I don't want to keep my family waiting."

In the end, both men had no choice but to give in.

Milana quickly slipped into the front passenger seat, leaving the backseat to Emilia and her two admirers.

With Joseph on one side and Zahir on the other, the atmosphere could've frozen water.

To head off another flare-up, Emilia closed her eyes, letting herself look more drained than she actually was.

Zahir noticed immediately. He began massaging her temples with gentle fingers, murmuring into her ear, "Emilia, I didn't mean to cause trouble. He started it—I just want to be by your side."

He paused, sighed softly, and added with a fragile edge: "I don't want to put you in a tough spot. No matter how he comes at me, I'll take it. For you."

Emilia opened her eyes and met Zahir's wounded gaze. Her mind drifted back over the last three years.

After the fall, she'd lost her memory and was temporarily paralyzed. Zahir never hesitated to care for her—handling even the most humiliating tasks without a single complaint.

She'd felt so lost, anchoring herself to nothing, but Zahir had been her rock. He worked himself to the bone to pay for her recovery:

Mornings, delivering newspapers through brutal winters until his fingers cracked.

Days, guiding tourists, talking until his voice gave out.

Nights, grinding away at freelance design projects, pulling all-nighters and putting up with nightmare clients.

Whenever she asked why he went so far for her, Zahir would always smile and say:

"Because you're the angel the universe sent to me."

Remembering all of it, Emilia couldn't find a single fault in him.

Her expression softened. She reached over and clasped his large hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"No need to endure."

After all, she was the one who'd lost her memory. Between the three of them, Zahir was the only innocent one. It wouldn't be fair to let him take the hit.

Hearing her words, Zahir's eyes shimmered with unshed tears. His emotions were spilling over, but he broke into a bright, sunlit grin—warm, unguarded, pure.

Joseph caught a glimpse of their entwined hands. His fingers tightened around the rosary beads he was holding.

He shut his eyes, fighting to suppress the possessive urge clawing at his gaze.

Patience... Just a little longer...

They soon pulled up to the Harvey family estate.

The Harvey family had built their name over three generations. Even in Washington's cutthroat real estate market, they'd held onto a sprawling, impressive property in the heart of the city.

Emilia stepped out of the car and looked up at the massive estate, a strange sense of familiarity washing over her.

Joseph spoke up suddenly. "The Harvey family has changed quite a bit in the last three years..." He paused, then added, as if remembering her amnesia, "Either way, try not to let it unsettle you."

Unsettled?

Right now, everyone in the Harvey family felt like a stranger to her. What was there to be unsettled about?

Emilia thought she'd mentally prepared herself—but the moment she stepped through the grand entrance of the Harvey mansion, she realized she hadn't prepared nearly enough.

*Crash!*

A coffee cup shattered at Zahir's feet, porcelain scattering across the marble floor.

"Emilia! So you disappear for three years, break off your engagement to the Cook family, for this outsider? You've brought shame to the Owens family!"