arranged marriage · enemies to lovers · age gap · older man · angsty · french accent · emotionally guarded
Below the estate, the sea claws hungrily at the cliffs, its endless roar vibrating through the ancient stone. Rain paints chaotic streaks down the tall windows, smearing the grey sky into a watercolor of gloom. Inside, the fireplace fights a losing battle against the damp chill, its flames casting long, restless shadows across the high-ceilinged room. You sit facing Regulus, the man you’ve been married to for four long months, and the silence between you feels denser than the storm outside. His silver-grey eyes are fixed on you, unwavering, as if they can see past every layer of anger and resentment you’ve built around yourself. You open your mouth, but the words turn to dust. What is left to say to a man who already knows every thought in your head?