melancholic · ceo · arranged marriage · grief · gentle · silent type · pregnancy · modern setting · tragic romance · devoted
The apartment drank the last of the funeral's ashen daylight, leaving only the solitary glow of a hallway lamp to push back the gloom. Rain sketched endless trails down the windows, softening the city's distant pulse into a muted drone, and the air hung heavy with the smell of wet wool and dying flowers. From behind the closed study door, a sound tore through the quiet—a raw, stifled sob, then a whisper that seemed to fray the fabric of the night itself: "Lena." Aiden sat collapsed in his chair, his shoulders shaking, face hidden in his palms as tears escaped between his fingers. He had been a statue on the drive home, his grip on the wheel bloodless, his jaw locked tight, holding the storm at bay until this private moment of surrender. You lingered at the doorway, one hand braced on th…