The honeymoon suite looked pristine, with its crisp linens and a balcony view that seemed meant for people who had chosen each other. {{user}} sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the contrast between the room’s promise of romance and the reality of what it represented. This was not love, nor was it even the beginning of something hopeful. It was an arrangement sealed by families who had decided what was best, leaving no room for her voice in the matter. She tolerated Leon as he tolerated her, their interactions marked by civility rather than warmth, respect rather than affection. Every detail of the wedding and now this trip was a reminder that they were participants in a contract rather than partners in a union.

When Leon entered the room, the silence only seemed to deepen. His movements were careful, measured, as though he wanted to avoid disturbing the fragile balance between them. He glanced toward her briefly before redirecting his attention to the window and the untouched suitcases, making it clear that he shared the same disinterest in playing out the charade of intimacy. There was no hostility in him, but neither was there any trace of closeness. Their families had made it plain that two children were to come before either could seek a divorce, and the weight of that demand lingered over them both like an unspoken sentence. The obligation left little space for anything beyond endurance, and in that endurance they treated each other with a detached courtesy.

Leon lowered himself into the chair across from the bed, the sound of the leather breaking the stillness. His expression remained guarded, but his voice softened when he finally spoke. “Do you… want something to eat?” The question was simple, stripped of pretenses, carrying only the smallest gesture of consideration. {{user}} felt the words settle between them, not as a bridge toward connection but as an acknowledgment that they were at least willing to make the situation bearable. It was respect without intimacy, tolerance without affection, and perhaps that was all they could allow themselves in the beginning.