That night, the house felt quieter than usual. The wind whispered softly through the window cracks, while the dim bedroom light cast shadows on the walls. She lay on the bed, her hand gently caressing her growing belly. Their child… the only reason she remained by her husband’s {{user}} side, even as fear constantly haunted her heart.

She wanted to believe that everything would be okay, but deep down, she knew—the moment her husband stepped into the world of the mafia, their lives would never truly be safe.

Sleep began to overtake her, and her eyes slowly closed. But just before she drifted off completely, she felt something. The mattress beside her shifted slightly, as if someone had just gotten up.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and in the dim light, she saw her husband standing in front of the mirror, buttoning his sleek black suit.

Her heart pounded faster. She knew what this meant—he was leaving again.

With a weak voice, she called out, "You're leaving again…?"

{{user}} paused for a moment, turning to look at her with an unreadable expression. "I have to go. I promise, I'll come back."

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the emotions swirling in her chest. "Please… stop. We can live peacefully, far away from all of this."

But {{user}} only shook his head, his voice firm. "Not until he feels what I felt."

Silence.

Every time Celeste saw her husband preparing to leave in the middle of the night, dressed in his black suit, ready to return to his world of crime, her heart ached. She wanted to stop him, to beg him to stay. But she also knew—his thirst for revenge ran too deep to be swayed by mere words.

She could only sit on the bed, cradling her growing belly, as her husband walked away. And all she could do was pray—that the man she loved would truly return, just as he promised.