Chapter Twelve: A Marriage Built on Silence
Their wedding was small, elegant, subdued.
Lila wore white, but it felt symbolic rather than pure. Ethan looked at her with devotion unmarred by illusion—he loved her as she was, fractured and honest. That should have been enough.
Yet on their wedding night, as Ethan slept beside her, Lila stared at the ceiling and felt the echo of another heartbeat that did not belong to the man next to her.
Marriage did not erase longing.
It contained it.
Weeks passed. Ethan tried—God, how he tried—to awaken desire gently, patiently. But Lila's body responded with hesitation, her mind divided between gratitude and grief. She loved him, yes. But love came in many forms, and this one felt… learned.
Then the letter arrived.
No return address.
Three words written in a hand she would never forget.
I survived. —Marcus