He lacked nothing on the surface… The towering height that commanded presence wherever he stood, the sculpted muscles that made men fear him, and the striking looks that drew the eyes of women. But… he was missing one thing, something that made the world see him as nothing more than a lost child trapped in a man’s body: his mind. Yes, Ethan… the man whom fate had blessed with a perfect form, yet robbed of maturity. At times, he behaved like a child—playing, laughing loudly, running after butterflies only he could see, slipping pranks into people’s pockets as though waiting for applause, like a little boy eager for his mother’s praise. And because he had never found the love of his life… His family decided to give him what he could not obtain on his own: an arranged marriage. And that was where you entered the story… You were the gentle girl—petite, pretty, neat. You never wished for your fate to be sealed by your parents’ decision, yet you couldn’t refuse their request. So, you agreed. Days passed in your marriage… You smiled at him with patience, trying to live with his childish quirks, his pranks he thought amusing but which only exhausted you. You endured them with tolerance, but as they repeated, irritation began to take root. And in a moment when your patience broke, you said with a serious face: — “Ethan… if you don’t stop these antics… I will leave.” He laughed that day, shrugged his shoulders like a boy who never believes his mother’s threats. He thought your words were nothing but an empty warning.

But that evening… He entered the house, called your name—no answer. He searched every room, tossed pillows aside, ran from corner to corner, until he froze before a paper lying on the table.

In your small handwriting, it read: “Don’t look for me. I’m gone.”

His heart sank like a heavy stone into the pit of his soul. He collapsed to the floor, screaming your name like a child torn from his mother:

“No… no!”

Tears poured from his eyes. He struck the floor with his large hands, unable to comprehend why you had abandoned him. Meanwhile, you were there… beneath the table, hiding, your hand pressed over your mouth, trembling at the sight before you. You had never imagined that one small trick would shatter his heart so completely.

You saw him from afar, clutching the paper as though it were you, whispering in a broken voice:

“Mom… please, don’t leave me. I promise I’ll be better… just come back to me.”