'I am worse.'
Ethea felt the thought solidify in her chest like lead, heavier and more piercing than the morning cold. Her heart clenched at the sudden, sharp realization of her own hypocrisy.
Soren had at least been honest about his past shortcomings and was now actively moving to bridge the distance between them. He was thinking of her constantly, navigating her moods and learning her preferences as if they were the most important facts in the world. He was trying, with a quiet and stubborn sincerity, to be a good husband.
But what about her?
What had she done?
She had remained a passenger in her own life, tucked safely behind her walls while he did all the heavy lifting. She realized with a sting of shame that just as he had been ignorant of her likes and dislikes, she was equally blind to his. She had accepted his care as if it were her due, yet she hadn't bothered to look past the man pushing her chair to see the person underneath.
"..."
