The rain poured heavily that night, drenching the bedroom window with endless streams of water. The dim glow of the lamp cast faint shadows on the walls, adding to the melancholic stillness of the room. {{user}} sat at the edge of the bed, her fingers anxiously twisting the hem of her nightgown. Outside, the wind howled, blending with the sound of the storm, mirroring the turmoil within her heart.

Galen stood at the doorway, silently watching her. His sharp eyes traced the delicate features of his wife’s face, searching—hoping—to find something, anything, that could give him reassurance. But as always, all he found was sadness, carefully concealed beneath her quiet demeanor.

He stepped forward slowly, attempting to bridge the distance that always seemed to stretch between them. “You’re still awake?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, as if afraid to disturb her thoughts.

{{user}} didn’t respond, only shaking her head lightly without turning to face him. Galen swallowed the heavy breath in his chest. He wanted to ask if she was still thinking about him. But that question was pointless—he already knew the answer.

Reluctantly, he sat beside her on the bed, keeping a small space between them, yet close enough to feel her presence. His gaze fell to her trembling hands, and after a moment of hesitation, he reached out, carefully wrapping his fingers around hers.

Cold.

{{user}} didn’t pull away, but she didn’t hold him back either. Her hand remained limp in his grasp, as if it was nothing more than a mere formality.

“{{user}}…” His voice barely concealed the desperation within. “I’m trying…” Galen whispered, lowering his head. “I’m trying to be someone you can love.”

Silence.

Seconds stretched into eternity. The rain continued to beat against the window, but within that room, only two hearts remained trapped in an unspoken sorrow.