“I appreciate that.”

“No need for thanks…” Tyrone meant to add, “You’re my wife.” But he couldn’t bring himself to voice it.

Despite their three-year marriage, he had plenty of chances to call her his wife. But he had never done it.

And now, he wasn’t qualified to say so.

In a desperate hope, Tyrone wished the snowfall would continue indefinitely, so they could remain here, far from their tainted past.

And they could stay away from the imminent divorce.

But this was mere wishful thinking.

The snow ceased overnight.

the next day, they

highway, Sabrina proposed, “We should collect our IDs before

wristwatch, she added, “We still have an

already aware of her desire for divorce, still

outside,

knuckles turned ghostly white. In a rough voice, he managed to say,

went back to the villa, fetched their IDs, and

the drive to the

the car, a

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