Zayne might have let Carmine live but the heftiness still lingered in the home.
The silence had gobbled the walls. The place where we were once laughing, had become a silent tomb.
Everything was becoming hollow and the distant feeling was suffocating me.
Yet for the sake of reviving I once lost, I poured all my attention into being a ‘good’ wife.
I was tending to his needs before he could utter them, my devotion had reached its peak.
I wanted him to look at me with affection, for that, I could do anything.
Zayne was sitting in the library, his eyes fixed on a book, biting onto his biscuit.
“Where is my–” He began.
“Here is your tea, Zayne. Exactly how you like it,” I interrupted softly, placing the cup on the side table.
I had been standing in the kitchen for ten minutes fo
