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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SNOW AND YARN
“It is not in the words but in the quiet understanding that connection grows.” – Khalil Gibran
That night, Esmé and Eiser sat across from each other at a circular wooden table in the heart of Mary’s cosy cottage.
The fire crackled gently in the hearth, and the delicious aroma of the meal lingered in the air as they ate in silence, their attention occasionally drawn to the cheerful chatter of Mary, who seemed determined to keep the conversation flowing.
Mary, with her lively, talkative nature, shared little tidbits about her daily life—stories of the townspeople, gossip about the weather, and the challenges of managing a small household on her own.
Her words came quickly, almost without pause, and Esmé couldn’t help but smile, even as Eiser remained quiet, his eyes soft but distant.
And then, without warning, the tone of Mary’s voice shifted, the cheery note turning more subdued.
She placed her fork down gently, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and for a moment, the room grew still.
"I lost my husband two years ago," Mary said, her voice quiet but steady. She looked down at her hands for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts. "He wasn’t young, you know. Heart disease. Took him quickly. One day he was here, and the next, gone."
Esmé felt a pang of sympathy as she glanced at Eiser, who seemed to be lost in his thoughts.
Mary continued, oblivious to her words carried in the room.
"And my daughter, Miriam," she went on, "she moved away not long after that. To the city, chasing her dreams. It’s a good thing, of course, but..." Mary trailed off, her gaze shifting toward the window, where the dim light of evening bled into the stillness of the night. "It’s just been me here now. Alone."
There was a pause, and Esmé’s heart sank a little.
She had known all of this already, of course. Esmé had been the one to listen to Mary’s stories before, offering company during her visits.
She had heard the loneliness in Mary’s voice each time, but it was different now.
"I don’t mind," Mary said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I’ve gotten used to it, I suppose. But it does feel... empty sometimes." She let out a long sigh and looked back at Esmé. "That’s why, I’m so grateful when you come to visit. Even if it’s just for a short while, it makes me feel like I’m not entirely forgotten."
Esmé’s heart fluttered with an unexpected surge of warmth.
She had known Mary to be strong and resilient, the sort of woman who could weather life’s difficulties with a smile.
