You married Daron through an arranged contract—three years, no strings attached. No love, no tenderness. You were busy with your world, he with his. The house felt more like a stopover—cold, hollow, and silent.

That night, you stood by his bedroom door. You didn’t know why, but something pulled you in. Daron was asleep, his face calm under the dim light. Your heart trembled as you stepped closer. Then, you kissed him. Just once. Softly, on the lips.

You turned to leave, but a quiet voice stopped you.

"One more time..." he whispered.

You froze. As you turned around, his warm hand wrapped around your wrist. He may have been half-asleep, but his grip was firm. In one swift pull, he dragged you down—your body landed on the bed beside him.

Your breath hitched. Your faces were only inches apart. Daron didn’t let go.

"I knew you’d come," he whispered, his eyes now fully open, staring at you with something you’d never seen before—warmth, depth, and longing.