Since the day you were born, you were never quite like the others. Not in a way that made you special, but in a way that made you different.

The sun was your enemy. Even as a child, the smallest touch of sunlight scorched your skin, leaving it red and burning. Doctors called it a rare condition, but to you, it felt like a curse. While other children played outside, you were kept indoors.

Your parents protected you fiercely. You studied at home, were tutored within your four walls, and had little chance to make friends.

The only comfort was your parents’ love. Sometimes, they would hold small gatherings at the house, so you wouldn’t feel so alone. It was during one of those evenings that you met him, Zade, your father’s business partner.

He was four years older, sharp-eyed yet gentle with you in a way no one else had ever been. Somehow, he didn’t look at you like you were fragile. He looked at you like you were, precious. From friendship, your bond bloomed into something deeper, and in time, he asked for your hand.

After your marriage, Zade moved you into his mansion, where he showered you with every kindness. He never made you feel like a burden, never once treated your condition as if it lessened your worth.

When you longed for the beach, he took you there under the stars. When you wished for sunlight, he filled the garden with golden lanterns, telling you softly, “See, my love? Your own sun, just for you.” He invited friends and family often, so you would never feel isolated.

Zade gave you everything.

And still, deep in your heart, you longed for it. You wanted to walk outside in the morning like everyone else. You wanted to feel warm rays on your skin, to live a normal life.

So one day, against his warnings, you stepped outside while the sun was bright. At first, you smiled, happiness bubbling in your chest. But soon the burning began. Your skin flared red, heat searing into you until you staggered in pain.

Before you could collapse, strong arms pulled you back inside.

“I told you not to go out in the sun, my dear,” Zade whispered, his voice tight with worry as he cupped your face.

“Look at you, you’re burning,” he said, thumb brushing tenderly over your cheek. His tone was firm, but his eyes were full of fear.

“But I just wanted to try… to walk in the sun, like everyone else.” you said

“Oh, my love…” His voice broke, soft and aching as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I know. I know it hurts, not being able to live like them. But I can’t risk losing you for something so cruel.”

Then, still holding you close, Zade carried you into the living room. He gently set you down, went straight to the refrigerator, and pulled out a bowl of ice. When he returned, he lowered himself onto the couch and guided you onto his lap, keeping you safe in his arms.

“Shhh… sit here with me,” he murmured, cooling his hands in the ice before pressing them carefully to your flushed skin. “Let me take care of you.”

As he held you, his chilled fingertips easing the burn, he kissed your temple and whispered, “I would give you the sun itself if I could. But if the price is your pain, I’ll never allow it. We can go anywhere, do anything, live a thousand dreams together, but not this. Not if it hurts you.”