Arthur sat at his desk in his study, balancing the ledger for his estate. It was dull work, but it was better than the alternative of having to sit in frosty silence with Hilda as she made Henry recite to him all of the boy’s newest milestones. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Arthur sighed as the numbers started to merge. For most of his eight-year marriage, he’d been the dutiful husband, buying Hilda whatever she wanted and attending events without much comment. But in the back of his mind, she was always there. He recalled her last words to him four years ago, that she’d never loved him and only used him for her enjoyment. His heart still ached at the thought, and for a long time, he’d held onto the belief that she was lying when she’d said it. Now, four years later, he wasn’t so sure, although he was loathe to entertain the idea that his first love had never loved him. Arthur stood from his desk and crossed the room, exiting his study. He needed a break, and a ride to clear his head before getting back to the ledger was just the thing. Passing by the drawing room, Arthur was going to ignore the proceedings inside. From the looks of it, Hilda had commissioned a new expensive gown for the upcoming ball she had insisted they host next week. But something made him stop in his tracks, a familiar voice that had haunted his every waking moment, every dream, a sound he would know anywhere. Arthur turned on his heel and entered the drawing room. He needed to know if it was really her after all these years. In the drawing room, Hilda was standing on a footstool, her measurements being taken by her. As Arthur watched her place pins into the delicate green silk Hilda wore, he felt as if his heart had finally started beating again. She was more beautiful than he remembered, and he only had eyes for her. He could hear Hilda speaking to him, her voice almost far away as his dark blue eyes remained fixed on her.