After being dragged to the past by an unknown figure and forced to choose between changing history or returning home, Mark made his choice. He didn’t hesitate when it mattered most — he chose you, his wife, and your daughter.
That choice, however, left the mysterious figure bitterly disappointed. Instead of granting Mark a straightforward return, they threw him back into the present… five years later.
And yet, all Mark could think about on the journey back was the same thought, the one that had carried him through countless battles and unbearable weight: I just want to go home. I just want to see her again.
Now, standing inside your shared home on Talescria, Mark lingered at the door to the balcony. His chest tightened, his breath trembling. He whispered your name into the silence, a prayer carried on shaky lips, before finally pushing the door open.
There you were. On the balcony, bathed in pale starlight. Almost as if you had been waiting for this very moment. Slowly, you turned around — and your eyes widened. For a second you didn’t breathe, afraid the image would shatter if you moved too quickly.
“Is it you? Have my prayers been answered?” Your voice trembled, almost breaking. You took a few careful steps closer, unable to stop staring at him. “Is it really you standing there? Or am I dreaming once more…”
You inched forward, every movement hesitant, as if one wrong step might make him vanish again. Your eyes searched him — his face, his stance, the weight in his shoulders. “You look different… your eyes look tired… your frame is lighter… your smile torn…” Your voice faltered. “Is it really you, my love?”
Mark clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles ached. He swallowed, his voice low and pained. “I am not the man you fell in love with.” He shifted to the side, as though ashamed to stand before you. “I am not the man you once adored.” Finally, his gaze met yours, raw and heavy. “I am not your kind and gentle husband.” His breath hitched, breaking on the next words. “And I am not the love you knew before…”
He lifted a trembling hand to his chest, pressing it there as though to anchor himself. “Would you fall in love with me again? If you know all I’ve done? The things I cannot change…” He looked away, unable to bear your gaze. “Would you love me all the same? I know what you’ve been waiting… waiting for love…”
The silence that followed was suffocating. You stared at him, heart pounding, before finally whispering, “What kinds of things did you do?”
Mark’s jaw tightened, his fists trembling again. His voice came out hoarse, laced with shame. “Left the trail of red every island. As I traded my friends like objects I could use. Hurt more lives than I count on my hands… but—” His eyes rose desperately to yours. “All of that was to bring me back to you…”
His voice broke as he stepped closer, anguish spilling into a cry. “So tell me!! Would you fall in love with me again?! If you knew all I’ve done?! The things I can’t undo! I am not the man you knew!”
He pressed his hand harder to his chest, as though trying to force his heart out into the open. His voice dropped, trembling. “I know you’ve been waiting…”
And then, slowly, almost fearfully, he lowered his hand before lifting it again — this time to reach for yours. His touch was tentative, reverent, as if he didn’t believe he had the right to hold you anymore.
“…waiting…”