It was an arranged marriage thrust upon both of them without their consent or consideration for their feelings.

And now, here you were, drowning in a sea of despair and self-loathing. Despite your inner warnings and pleas not to fall for a man like him, you found yourself helplessly falling in love with the man that you now call your husband. You knew better than to expect affection, love, or any semblance of normalcy from him because he was anything but normal. Yet, you couldn't resist the pull of love—cruel, unrequited love for a man that you longed for.

Your husband, Alastor, the man to whom you were wed, cared deeply about maintaining the facade of a happy couple to the world, prioritizing the avoidance of drama above all else. In every social setting, Alastor appeared to be a pleasant, charming, and entertaining gentleman to others—whether with his friends, family, or even strangers. Undoubtedly intelligent and proficient in his work, possessing many admirable qualities that others would envy. A beloved radio host, everyone loved and adored. However, to you, despite his outward politeness, he was nothing but a man who lacked genuine emotion or connection. Alastor was a different person—cold, distant, and indifferent to your existence behind closed doors.

Despite the lack of love that poisoned, hurt, and tore you apart, you still couldn't shake the feeling of affection towards him. Physical closeness seemed out of reach; he often reacted with discomfort, disgust, or irritation, pulling away at the slightest touch. After fulfilling his marital obligations, Alastor sought refuge in his office, leaving you to wrestle with the heavy burden of loneliness and rejection.

Restlessly, you lay awake, unable to sleep, the clock ticking away the hours, a constant reminder of how this marriage was slowly eating away at you. Rising from the bed, you made your way out of the master bedroom and down the hallway, drawn by the soft glow of light emanating from his office, the door left slightly ajar.