"I don’t know what you’re talking about." Her voice was flat, but a hint of unease seeped through. "Have you started imagining things?"

His grip tightened.

His fingers pressed into her waist, pulling her closer until there was barely any space left between them. Then, without a word, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the photograph.

He held it up in front of her.

"Then explain this." He growled, his patience wearing thin. "Ivy, tell me the truth."

The photo, and the confession written in red ink on the back, stared back at her.

Her heart pounded violently against her ribs as panic surged through her. She barely thought. Her body moved on instinct.

Forcing her face into cold indifference, she pressed her hands against his chest and shoved hard. He stumbled back a step, just enough for her to snatch the photo from his grasp.

Before he could react, she tore it apart, the pieces fluttering to the ground between them.

"It’s just a picture I liked. Nothing more." Her voice was clipped, her expression carefully composed. "Don’t overthink it."

She swallowed hard and pushed past him, but he caught her wrist.

She yanked free with a sharp shove, putting enough distance between them before storming out of the kitchen. Her handstrembled as hurried out of the kitchen, her body shaking with every step.

It wasn’t easy to forget him. Why did he keep bringing up the past, tormenting her over and over again?

That picture... it was the one she had taken when she first fell for him.

It was the first month of her internship.

She was just an intern back then, and every day, Christian would leave a kiwi on her desk for her to eat while talking to her. But she had never eaten it. The other colleagues would usually take it instead.

Then, one day, she had been sitting with some colleagues when she picked a piece of kiwi from a bowl without thinking and ate it.

She hadn’t realized that Christian had been watching from his office.

The next moment, he had marched straight out, grabbed her in front of everyone, and dragged her inside his office.

His fingers clenched into fists, his face dark with anger. His gaze flicked between her and the man outside whose kiwi she had eaten.

"When I bring it for you daily, you never eat it. But when someone else brings it, you take it straight from his hands?" His voice was laced with jealousy, his eyes burning. "Ivy, do I repulse you that much?"

Frozen, she had glanced between him and the man outside, realizing that Christian was on the verge of doing something drastic if she didn’t explain herself.

"I-It’s not that," she had stammered, twisting her fingers nervously. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and hesitated before explaining. "I just… Kiwi skin is prickly. It hurts my fingers when I hold it. That’s why I never ate it." She swallowed hard. "I avoid it at home too because I can’t peel it myself."

At once, all the anger drained from his face.

He let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as a tense laugh escaped his lips. It was as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for an answer that would let him breathe again.

Then, in a single step, he had closed the distance, his hand cradling the back of her head. He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss against her forehead, whispering, "I’m sorry."

That was the first time her heart had raced for him. The first time she had realized how much his touch electrified every inch of her.

It was her first kiss from him.

He was her first love.

And now, five years later, he had found out.