After the confession, moments between Raellyn and her husband grew scarce.
Arnav, now little more than a shadow moving through the same house, kept slipping further from her reach, kept his distance. And though Raellyn tried her best to wait, to hold her heart steady, she was never made for patience. She cursed him in silence a thousand times in her mind for that cold, unfeeling man. And yet, somewhere in the aching corner of her chest, she understood something. Perhaps it wasn’t easy for a man once betrayed to believe in love again. Maybe he had never even learned how to love in the first place. His wounds went deeper than she could ever touch, some etched by his mother.
She knew she had fallen in love with her husband, but love, as she’d come to understand, couldn’t be forced. Love cou
