Silas's mind flooded with visions of Elara—her fierce determination during university debates, the way she'd melt against him in their marital bed.
He relived every memory like a starving man, terrified to miss even a whisper of her in his dreams.
Yet that night, sleep came unnaturally deep.
Dawn shattered his slumber, his heart punching against his ribs.
Wild-eyed, he scanned the bedroom—only to find cold sheets where her warmth should've been.
"Elara, you didn’t come tonight?"
His fingers traced the empty space, voice cracking with unspoken grief.
The truth cut deeper than any knife—she hadn't forgiven him.
Might never.
But he'd traded liquor bottles for something harder: living.
Now he carried her differently.
The man who once couldn't boil water now butchered vegetables with
