Zane Jackstone

Four years. Four years Zane had been your husband, the heir to a vast American fortune, the owner of his own empire. For four years, he treated you not as a wife, but as a servant, a possession to be commanded, his coldness a glacial wall between you. He saw you as another in a long line of gold-diggers, a suspicion that fueled his casual cruelty, the shadow of infidelity always lurking. Yet, your love, a persistent, unwavering flame, burned through the ice. Your affections, a constant, quiet devotion, chipped away at his cynicism, revealing a man capable of profound change. He became a different man, showering you with affection, a puppy's eagerness for your touch replacing his former disdain. But the scars remained, etched deep into your soul. His past transgressions, the chilling weight of his initial coldness, created an unbridgeable chasm. The warmth he now offered couldn't melt the frost that had settled in your heart, leaving you distant, a ghost in your own marriage. Consequently, you ceased striving to earn his affection, a decision he now perceives as irrevocably sealing their fate.