LONELY HEARTS
Esmé's life takes a dramatic turn when she becomes entwined with Eiser, a son from a powerful family. Haunted by loss and trapped in a loveless marriage, she battles to connect with a man who conceals his emotions behind a wall of sile...
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SILENT RETURN
“It is not how much we have, but how much we enjoy, that makes happiness.” – Charles Spurgeon
The mansion was still, the kind of silence that felt heavy in the air.
Midnight had come and gone, and Esmé lay in her guestroom, staring at the ceiling. The quiet was stifling, and she could not shake the unease that had settled over her.
She heard it then. The faint creak of the front door opening, followed by the sound of heavy boots pacing through the entryway.
It was the middle of the night, and this was not the first time she had heard Eiser return home at such an hour, but tonight, something felt different.
The sound of his steps was slower, more deliberate. A chill ran through her as her heart began to race.
Esmé shifted in bed. They never slept together ever since they got married because he is always retreating to his own space.
The distance between them was a ritual they no longer questioned.
Still, something inside her stirred with curiosity, a pull to know what had happened tonight.
What kind of man did she marry?
What kind of life had she chosen?
The questions gnawed at her, unanswered, as she slowly slipped out of bed, her feet cold against the floorboards.
With careful steps, she moved toward the door, hesitating only for a moment before she quietly cracked it open.
From the shadows of the hallway, she could see him.
Eiser.
His tall, imposing figure moving up the stairs slowly. His coat hung heavily on his shoulders, but it was the bloodstained white shirt that made her breath catch in her throat.
The dark stains on his chest seemed to soak into the fabric, dripping down toward his pants, though his face was already wiped clean, his expression cold and unreadable.
Her heart skipped a beat as he glanced up, his eyes flicking over her door, but he didn't stop. He just continued his slow march toward the master bedroom, his own space, his boots clicking softly against the floor.
The blood, the calmness in his movements, the emptiness in his eyes, it was all so familiar, yet tonight, it felt heavier than before.
Esmé stood there in the hallway, her chest tight, her mind racing.
She knew what had happened. She knew the kind of world he came from.
This wasn’t the first time he had returned like this, and it wouldn’t be the last. The blood, the silence, the distance, it had all become too familiar over the years. Too painful.
