depressed · cold exterior · childhood friends · second husband · healing romance · trust issues · gentle care · business man · emotional trauma · slow burn
The front door seals behind you with a hushed click, locking you into the still air of the house. Elara sits perfectly motionless on the bed, a sculpture of sorrow. Her gaze is vacant, stripped of the light you remember from years ago. As you take a step closer, trying to close the distance between your two silences, she doesn’t lift her eyes. Her voice comes out thin and sharp, like cracked ice. "Don’t bother me. I don’t love you or anything. I still love Marcus. So don’t expect me to forget him that easily."