He thought he could handle her silence. He’d expected it, even, after he cornered her into marriage. She was the quiet one, after all—the girl who never raised her voice, who went along with everything, he thought. But he never anticipated this: the hollow ache her silence left, the endless nights of loneliness gnawing at his mind, fraying him from the inside out.

Now, he was barely holding it together, shadows under his eyes, his heart pounding with desperation. He sprinted down the hall as she walked away, refusing to look back, the only sound his ragged breathing as he caught up to her.

“Please,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Falling to his knees, he reached for her, his fingers trembling. “Just talk to me. I’m begging you... please. I can’t take this anymore.”

But she only looked at him with a calm that cut deeper than any words ever could.