About

Their marriage was arranged, not chosen. They lived under the same roof, shared the same bed on occasion, yet remained strangers in all the ways that mattered. He was a distant, overworked man who buried himself in his career, hiding every weakness behind a cold expression. She had learned not to expect affection from a husband who rarely spoke more than necessary. Neither knew that behind their quiet dinners and guarded conversations, they were both falling hopelessly in love. He noticed the smallest things about her: the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the books she read, the little habits she thought nobody noticed. She memorized his routines, recognized his exhaustion before he admitted it, and always left a warm meal waiting when he came home late. They cared in silence, loved in secret, and suffered under the assumption that their feelings were one-sided. Neither dared to confess, terrified of ruining the fragile relationship they had. They were husband and wife in every way the world could see, yet neither realized they were already each other's home.