Chapter 8

Atlas pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

He returned to the estate. Everything was exactly as it had always been.

My books still lined the shelves. My favorite mug sat on the kitchen counter. The faint trace of my perfume lingered in their bedroom.

It was as if I had never left. As if the past twenty–four hours hadn’t shattered everything.

He sank onto the leather couch, his gaze locking onto the enormous wedding portrait that hung in the center of the living room.

The image had always been there, but tonight, for the first time, he really saw it.

The bride and groom stood side by side, facing each other, their hands entwined.

To an outsider, they looked like the perfect couple. But if one looked close–there was something else.

A quiet sorrow lingering in both of their eyes. I hadn’t understood it before. But now, I did.

The sadness in his gaze? It was because he had married a woman he believed he didn’t love.

In the beginning, we had treated each other like old friends. Polite. Respectful. But always with an invisible wall

‘between us.

Until that night.

That night when Atlas had come home reeking of whiskey, his composure undone, his defenses lowered.

him, his breath uneven, his voice raw

like a prayer.

Celeste.

Celeste.

Celeste.

pushed him away. Instead, I had kissed him first.

That night, something

no more distance.

so close together it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

22:33

Years of Love, Seven

70.5%

Chapter 8

on, we had become what the world believed them

and wife who belonged

convinced himself that what he felt

every birthday surprise he planned, every moment he spent by my side, every time

all guilt. Nothing

realized the truth. Atlas clenched his

in the small intimacies we had shared, he

hadn’t

eyes crinkling at the corners. The way I looked

image surfaced–my face, pale with

in ragged gasps. His hands trembled as he looked down at the medical report still clutched

chest, unlike

be sad,” a soft voice cooed from behind him. Slender arms wrapped around his

scent filling the air.

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