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Killian's pov;

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Killian's pov;

"How do you want your husband to be like?" Killian asked. Maybe if she tells him what she wants in a husband, he can become that and then she will want only him. And if she doesn't choose him, he will just kill everyone else around her so that she only has him to pick.

"Umm I want him to be nice to me and play with me every day. Ooo and I want him to have those painting things on his body. My dad has them on his arms and they are so fun to color in. And I want him to live in a big house by the beach so that I can swim every day! And he has to have a dog...no 3 dogs! I love dogs!" She continues to tell Killian about her dream husband and he listens closely and takes notes in his head so that he will remember every little detail.

He would change everything about himself, as long as it would make her want him.

I was thinking back to a conversation me and Ophelia had as kids. How full of life she was back then.

Oh how I would do anything to bring that girl back...

As I watched Ophelia lying in bed, her once vibrant spirit reduced to a mere shadow of itself, a pang of sorrow pierced through me. She had been like this for days now, withdrawn and despondent, lost in the depths of her despair. Every attempt to reach her had been met with silence or resistance, leaving me feeling helpless and frustrated.

But as I sat there, observing her, a flicker of inspiration sparked within me. It was a simple idea, perhaps even foolish in its simplicity, but it was the only one I had left. I had to try.

my mind consumed with thoughts of her and the dogs. I had always known that she had a soft spot for animals, her eyes lighting up whenever she spotted a furry friend. It was as if they held some magical power to lift her spirits, if only for a moment.

So, with a sense of determination coursing through me, I made the necessary arrangements. I called the breeder, arranging for the three dogs to be delivered to our home. They were adorable creatures, full of energy and affection, just like Ophelia had always imagined.

As I awaited their arrival, my thoughts lingered on Ophelia and the profound sadness that seemed to engulf her. I couldn't bear to see her like this, trapped in a prison of her own making. If the dogs could bring even a glimmer of joy to her life, it would be worth it.

When the dogs finally arrived, their tails wagging with excitement, I felt a surge of hope swell within me. Carrying them up to her room, I watched as their playful antics drew a faint smile to her lips. It was a small victory, but it filled me with a sense of relief and gratitude.

As I watched her smile at the dogs, a small glimmer of hope flickered within me. Maybe this was the solution—something to bring her joy, to make her feel alive again.

I entered the room, trying to mask my concern with a calm demeanor. But her smile vanished as soon as she saw me. It was like a punch to the gut, a reminder of how far apart we had grown.

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