He closed his eyes, and five years of shared days and nights crashed over him like a tide. In the beginning, we were two strangers under the same roof, cautious and distant, playing the part of husband and wife for appearances. Until that night. He came home drunk from a business dinner, reeking of liquor, and pulled me into his arms, calling my name over and over. Not Selene's. Mine. Lois. That night, I peeled away his cold mask, and he touched the softness buried deep inside me. Two lonely hearts, pressed together, however briefly.
After that, he began caring about me without realizing it. Between tending to Selene, he remembered which jewelry designs I loved. He shielded me from rivals in the industry who tried to sabotage my work. When I stayed up late sketching designs, he would quietly set a glass of warm milk on my desk. He prepared little surprises for me. He had always told himself it was just a promise kept to my late father, just guilt, just duty.