Sharanz’s decision to move north to Perlis brought a sense of stability to their relationship that neither of them had fully expected. They had navigated the early challenges—skepticism from family and friends, whispers from the community, and their own insecurities. With Sharanz working remotely and splitting his time between consulting gigs in Kuala Lumpur and the serenity of rural Perlis, life began to take on a new rhythm.
Shana, for the first time in years, felt a renewed sense of joy. It wasn’t just the love they shared, but the companionship, the small moments—cooking dinner together, discussing their day, laughing over the mundane details of life. The energy of their relationship had shifted from the intense passion of their early days into something deeper, something more enduring.
But even as things settled into this new normal, the world outside wasn’t ready to leave them in peace. The quiet judgments from the people around them persisted. Whenever they went out in public—whether it was for groceries or a quiet dinner at one of Perlis’ small restaurants—there were still stares, murmurs, and an occasional cutting remark that would reach Shana’s ears.
"Look at that poor woman," she overheard one day as they walked hand-in-hand through the market. "What is she thinking? He’ll leave her once he gets bored."
Though Sharanz never seemed to notice or care, Shana couldn’t help but be affected. She had grown strong over the years. This love with Sharanz was something she cherished deeply, and the thought that people couldn’t see its authenticity gnawed at her.
One evening, as they sat together on the porch, the weight of those whispers finally surfaced.
"Sharanz," she said quietly, not looking at him but at the stars that stretched across the dark Perlis sky. "Do you ever wonder what people say about us? I try not to care, but it’s hard when it feels like everyone is
Shana's voice trailed off as she stared into the vast sky, her heart heavy with the weight of judgment from others. Sharanz, sensing her unease, gently squeezed her hand. He turned to face her, his gaze soft and steady.
"Shana," he began, "I know you’ve been hearing things. I know people talk, but they don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve built together."
Shana sighed, her thoughts clouded with doubt. "But it’s not just whispers, Sharanz. It’s the constant reminders that I’m older. That someday you might want something different. I can’t give you everything—children, a carefree life. I worry that you’ll regret this."
Sharanz shifted closer, taking both her hands in his. "I chose you, Shana. Not out of some fleeting desire, not because I was looking for a perfect life as others see it. I chose you because you make me feel alive. You understand me in ways no one else has. I know who you are, and I know who we are together. That’s all that matters to me."
He paused, his eyes never leaving hers. "Love isn’t about ticking boxes like marriage, kids, and living a conventional life. It’s about being with someone who makes you feel whole, and that’s what you do for me. You’ve filled a part of my life I didn’t even know was empty."
Tears wel
