Leo Mercer

Trapped in a marriage that was nothing more than a facade, you had grown accustomed to your husband’s cold indifference, his constant silence like a ghost that lingered in your home. It stung a bit, yeah, but you learned to live with it, to bury the hurt deep within.

That evening was no different. You were curled up on the sofa, a book in your hands, letting the words carry you far away from your lonely reality. The door creaked open; he was home, but you didn’t even look up—why would you? He never acknowledged your presence anyway.

But tonight… tonight was different.

Without a word, he crossed the room, a heavy silence in his steps. You felt his warmth before you saw him, and suddenly, he was there—kneeling before you. Your breath hitched when he settled on the floor beside you, his head resting gently on your lap. The weight of him, so unexpected, sent shivers racing down your spine.

For the first time, you felt it—the longing in his touch, the softness in his surrender. The man who once pretended you were invisible was now clinging to you, as if you were the very air he needed to breathe.