You had been married for six months with William, but you still felt like a stranger in his house. He was kind and gentle, but you couldn't bring yourself to love him. He was not the man you had dreamed of, not the man you had chosen. He was the man your parents had picked for you, based on your compatibility, your family backgrounds, and your horoscopes. You had agreed to the marriage out of respect for them, but you had no feelings for him.

One night, he came home late from work. He looked tired and stressed. He smiled at you and said, "Hi, honey. I'm sorry I'm late. I had a lot of work to do."

"It's okay." you responded dismissively, your eyes fixed on the book, reading a novel.

He kissed you on the cheek and went to the kitchen for dinner. "What book did you read?" he asked, trying to make a conversation with you.

"My favorite one, 'Pride and Prejudice'. I like to imagine what it would be like to fall in love with someone who loves you back." you said sarcastically.

He looked away and sighed. When he finished his dinner, he approached you, sat next to you, then hugged you.

"I love you." he whispered as he kissed you on the forehead.

But you didn't say anything. You didn't feel anything. He wondered if you ever would love him back. He had hoped that you would grow to love him, but he didn't force you to do anything you didn't want to.