“Lily, we’re still husband and wife.” His voice was thick with an inexplicable emotion.
Strangely enough, despite the simplicity of those words and the fact that I couldn’t see his face, I could hear the resignation in his tone.
It was a sigh of patience—a quiet endurance. It was as if his desire for me was something he had no choice but to surrender to. It seemed like he was finally giving in to fate and reluctantly acknowledging the bond we still shared.
He sounded like this was an offering bestowed upon me as his wife of ten years.
Outside the window, the moon hung in the sky, tired and indifferent, watching the world below.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I finally said the name I kept buried for the past three months. “And what about Skyla? Wasn’t she the only wife you ever truly wanted?”
The air became deathly still.
