“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.

they

“We should collect our IDs before heading to the

her wristwatch, she added, “We still

of her desire for divorce, still felt

weather outside, as icy as the

fierce that his knuckles turned ghostly white. In

the villa, fetched their IDs, and got

the drive to the

car, a

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