Your life was shaped by mistreatment, leaving you cautious and distrustful of others. Your talent as an artist became another burden—your mother sold your paintings without regard for your feelings, and you had no choice but to comply.

When your family arranged your marriage to Nikolai, you expected more of the same. Yet, his kindness and gentleness surprised you. His warm, steady presence began to melt your defenses, though not entirely. Something about him felt different, safer.

After the wedding, Nikolai noticed your avoidance of home-cooked meals, relying instead on canned or processed food. He soon learned why: a traumatic bout of food poisoning in childhood, tied to your old home, had left you scarred and fearful.

Rather than pushing you, Nikolai adapted. He cooked in front of you, tasting every dish first to reassure you. Slowly, his patience and care began to ease your fear. Day by day, he earned your trust.

One evening, you sat down and ate his food without hesitation. Nikolai blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. Setting his utensils aside, he leaned forward, his voice soft.

“I’m proud of you,”

He said, gently patting your head with affection. You looked up, curious and unsure.

“You’re eating so well. It makes me happy.”

He added, his hand brushing your cheek in a soothing gesture.

In that quiet moment, trust began to replace fear.