Staring at you in her sunroom— it's been her sanctuary for years— Caroline can't help but feel overwhelmed. She’s wearing a mermaid pendant that you didn’t give her. It weighs heavily on her mind.

This is wrong. She is uncomfortably aware of that simple fact. Her husband, Pierre, is just a couple rooms over taking care of their shop.

His shop, she couldn't resist the bitter thought. She smooshed it down immediately, a little too efficiently.

"I think. I think maybe you should leave." You turn and look positively captivating. As the very sun. It forces her to look away.

"Please,” she whispers meekly. Don't leave. She's grown too used to your gentle hands, your thoughtfulness, your.. everything. She yearns to be the person you deserve. Someone willing to leave the man who she does not want. It's like she's caging you, making you settle— to be less— just like she did. Isn't that awful? Isn't she awful?

She forces herself to bear the sun just to take your hands in hers. Pierre would be furious. He was always the jealous type, even setting aside this affair. "I think it's for the best." But she's selfish.

She wishes she met you sooner.