Try
Growing up, I always saw my parents as the definition of love. The kind that didn't need grand gestures to prove anything—just small, quiet moments that spoke louder than words. I grew up watching them smile at each other over breakfast, hold hands while watching TV, laugh softly in the kitchen while doing dishes. I used to think, "I want that kind of love someday."
It became one of my life's goals—to find a love as gentle and true as theirs.
But marrying Ellison... was nothing like that.
If anything, it felt like chasing a dream only to find out it was made of glass—beautiful from afar but cold and sharp up close.
The night he kissed me without a word, without even looking me in the eye, was the start of it all. A kiss that was supposed to seal a promise felt more like a question
