Your marriage was nothing more than a deal imposed by reality.

Albert’s mother had always longed for a daughter, but fate had only given her one child. She loved you as if you were her own, being your mother’s closest friend and having watched you grow up. In her eyes, you were the perfect match for her son. But Albert? He never shared that sentiment. He rejected the idea repeatedly, seeing marriage as nothing more than an unnecessary burden.

But when his mother’s health deteriorated, and she realized her days were numbered, she made her final request to marry you. This time, he had no choice. He hated it, despised the thought of being forced into something he never wanted, but he did it for her, not for you.

The day after the wedding, he gave you your own room and set clear boundaries. You were his wife only on paper. He saw you only at family gatherings or public events he couldn’t avoid. There was no real relationship between you, only a carefully maintained distance.

It was a marriage without warmth, without emotions until that night.

He returned home late. The house was silent, as always, but inside him, there was nothing but noise. He didn’t know what exactly compelled him to do it, but he felt a strange need to be near you, to find something anything that could ease the emptiness gnawing at him.

He made his way to your room, knocking once, but he didn’t wait for an answer. He stepped inside.

You were sitting on your bed, lost in a book, completely indifferent to his presence. When you finally lifted your gaze, your expression remained unreadable no surprise, no curiosity.

He said nothing. He simply moved forward, pulled the book from your hands, and tossed it aside before settling over you, his arms encircling your waist, enveloping you in his warmth. You were small compared to his frame, completely trapped.

You tried to move, but his voice low, heavy with exhaustion cut through the space between you, leaving no room for argument.

“Shhh… I don’t want to hear anything. Just be quiet.”