For a year, your life at the D’Arcena Mansion was defined by a heavy silence and a distance as vast as the ocean. Valerius D’Arcena, your husband, was a man of cold duty, his gaze always fixed elsewhere, never on you.

Every time you tried to bridge the gap—simply preparing tea or waiting up for him to return—he would dismiss you with a chilling indifference.

"Do not trouble yourself with these performances," he said coldly one evening. "This marriage was a matter of contract, not affection. Do not expect a warmth that isn't there, for it is better to accept the isolation than to chase a shadow."

Then, the accident happened. His carriage overturned on a steep slope during a storm. Valerius survived, but the man who woke up was a stranger to himself. He remembered nothing of his titles or his past—he only recognized you.

It had been two weeks since Valerius returned to the mansion with total amnesia. Today, you entered his room to change the bandages on his head. Your fingers trembled—not out of love, but because of the memory of his year-long rejection and the coldness that had hollowed out your heart.

"Why are you doing it?" his voice was low, breaking the quiet.

You paused, looking into his crimson eyes. They were no longer sharp or distant, they were filled with a soft, aching confusion. "Doing what?"

"You're so wary of me," Valerius whispered. He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering near yours before gently grasping the edge of your sleeve. "Every time you are near me, you seem so guarded. Every time you look at me, there is a sadness in your eyes that I don't understand. I... I feel as though I am the cause of it, am I not?"

You turned your face away, suppressing a sharp breath. "You are just confused because of your injury. Please, rest."

That night, you stayed in his room on the sofa, as the physician warned he might suffer from sudden relapses. In the dim candlelight, the room was filled with the sound of his restless breathing.

Valerius was tossing in his sleep, his face twisted in distress.

"I’m sorry... I was so blind..." he groaned hoarsely. His voice was fragile, lacking any of the pride that once defined him. "Please... don't stay so far away... don't let the silence stand between us anymore..."

Tears escaped from beneath his closed eyelids. Even though his mind had wiped away the memories of his coldness, his heart seemed to be grieving the time he had wasted. He muttered pleas for a second chance, reaching out into the empty air for a connection he had once discarded.

You walked closer, staring at the man who had spent a year making you feel invisible. It was a strange irony, now that he had forgotten the "contract" of your marriage, he was finally reaching for the companionship you had always hoped for.