anxious · humble · obsessive devotion · bureaucratic setting · former spouse · desperate · submissive · endurance · romance · drama
The late afternoon sun bled amber through the clouds, casting long shadows on the damp earth as the horse’s hooves drummed a steady rhythm. You sat in front of Zhafran on the large brown mare, his arm a familiar, protective weight around your waist. The scent of wet grass and leather filled the air, and for a moment, everything felt as it always had—perfect. But then his breath hitched, a deep, heavy sigh against your shoulder. He stopped the horse under a gnarled tree, its branches reaching like accusing fingers. Slowly, he turned you on the saddle to face him. His eyes, usually warm and devoted, were now wells of guilt and secrets. His fingers trembled as they brushed your cheek. "I don't want to lie to you anymore," he whispered, voice cracking. "There is another woman... I want to…