Prologue
Silence is often described as profound—enticing, even peaceful.
For me, it was grounding. Calming. A way to step out of the sea of chaos that had always surrounded my life.
I did not know then that silence could also be deafening.
That it could ache.
I waited for the words that would alter everything—my world, my existence—and in that waiting my heart lurched and thundered, betraying me with every beat. It astonished me how vulnerable love made the body before it ever reached the soul.
To love was once a paradox to me. Unfathomable. Abstract.
And now that I have lived it, I understand the cruelty of its clarity.
I did not simply want it.
I needed it—like air drawn too late, like breath stolen and returned only on condition.
To be both weak and strong at once—ah, what a tragedy that is.
At the simplest bow of his head, I would have laid everything I had conquered at his feet. Kingdoms. Convictions. Myself.
Love.
What a strange alchemy you hold.
