d the scenes, however, their isolation from one another was beginning to take a toll. The distance between them, once a simple divide, was becoming a chasm that neither of them seemed a

family legacy, of the importance of maintaining the Blackwell name. But the longer he lived in this gilded cage of duty, the more he questioned the worth of that legacy. Success, wealth, po

Adrian couldn't seem to allow himself to let his guard down. His pride had always been a shield, and in many

la sitting at the dining table, a glass of wine in hand, her posture relaxed but still dignified. He couldn

ad long since stopped asking about his absences, and they had both grown accustom

ver to the wine cabinet, pouring himself a glass without asking. He didn't feel lik

rprising himself. "I kno

u don't have to apologize. I understand. It's just... we'v

oment, he considered brushing it off, but something stopped him. It had been so long since anyone had

, his voice lower than usual. "We were suppose

vy. "I think we've been trying, in our own ways. Bu

He had been pretending-pretending that everything was fine, that the life they had created together was

wine glass as if seeking an answer in its dept

, and in that moment, something shifted. It wasn't much-a crack in the ice

if he even saw her as more than a business arrangement, and yet, here he was, acknowledging the same frustration she had bee

ice barely above a whisper. "But I can't keep living

now how to fix this," he admitted. "I don't know how to be the

ouch light but sincere. "Maybe we don't need to have it all figured out," she said

ith her own hopes, dreams, and frustrations. The realization hit him like a wave. He had spent so much time focusing on what he lacke

Isabella began to exist in the same space without the pretense. They no longer acted as though everything was perfect. Instea

r eyes brightened when she talked about her family's business, the little gestures she made when she was nervous or anxious, the way she would hum softly when she was

as worried, the way his eyes flickered when he was uncomfortable with something, the quiet moments when he allowed himself to relax, even if just for a second. She had always s

m together, Isabella finally spoke up, break

uld try something different. Maybe... we don't ha

furrowed. "Start over?" he aske

t we don't want, what we can't control. But maybe we need to focus on what we can. Maybe

s would mean for them, or if it was even possible to fix what had been broken. But for t