y scent, and though a part of me was still scared, I allowed myself t

platter still lay scattered across the floor, along with the remnants of half-eaten fruit she hadn't bothered to clean up.

rd the closed door, hesitant. Jake was very particular about keeping that room to himself, and I rarely went in

ing if somehow there was a chance he'd been found alive and if thi

, I made the ch

grance of his cologne hung in the air. The buzzing ceased, and I answered the phone, realising it was the search team calling for an updat

ch without hesitating. After I ended the call, I released a breath I didn't know I was ho

olours rich and inviting. It was a beautifully done oil painting of a woman, and as

of red roses was beside it, fresh with a nice fragrance, filling the room with its sweet scent. A

this be for me? My heart softened as I r

ainting and roses, it was the man I had deeply car

showing that he hadn't forgotten about me, that he still cared, that he still noticed me. The painting, rose

eal it on his own, allowing him to enjoy his moment. And if he did, perhaps that would be t

ran into Jake who was standing in the doorway. His complexion appeared somew

a strained voice,

, instantly sensing guilt l

m, and I thought it might be important, so I approved the me

rmured, his eyes flickering toward the desk where the painting and roses still sat. "I

. "I understand, Jake. I didn't mean to inva

show at the edges of his lips. "Sarah, I thank you for your help." He

to have. I had a lot to say and many questions to ask him, but I

I chose

that maybe there was still a chance for us-still a chance for our marriage, for our family. And mayb

ke's unexpected gesture would help us bond. I believed the painting, roses, and card I discovered in his study the previous night

s soon as Jake arrived home, his expression tight