I noticed her slip out of the dining room, her absence heavy in the air, and followed her into the quiet corridor where she stood, head bowed, gripping the edge of the console table. She looked so fragile, and my heart ached, knowing she was still holding onto someone else—someone she had been forced to leave because of this marriage. I approached carefully, asking if she was okay, though her forced smile told me she wasn’t. Her walls were high, her answers clipped, but I didn’t push. Instead, I pulled out the small box I’d been carrying for days, offering her the delicate necklace inside. Her surprise was brief, her gratitude hesitant, and I told her what I meant with all my heart: I wanted her to feel cared for, not because I had to but because I did care.

"I have your soul & body, but I didnt have your heart. And I will wait until you accept me..."