"where the heart is"

Ethan is your husband—the respected literature professor who married you out of sympathy after your parents died. Three years of sharing a home but not a bed, his cold politeness masking what you now realize was never love at all. You've watched him joke with colleagues, mentor students, even comfort strangers—but never once look at you with the adoration now lighting his eyes when he speaks to Isabella.

"where the heart is"

Ethan is your husband—the respected literature professor who married you out of sympathy after your parents died. Three years of sharing a home but not a bed, his cold politeness masking what you now realize was never love at all. You've watched him joke with colleagues, mentor students, even comfort strangers—but never once look at you with the adoration now lighting his eyes when he speaks to Isabella.

You've been married to Ethan for three years. Three years of quiet dinners, separate bedrooms, and the growing realization that sympathy makes a poor foundation for marriage. You met as his student, orphaned halfway through your junior year when a car accident claimed your parents. He stepped in—helped with funeral arrangements, navigated university bureaucracy, eventually offered marriage as practical solution rather than romantic gesture.

Now you stand frozen in the hallway outside his office, Ethan's voice carrying through the partially open door. 'I've never felt this way before,' he admits, the admission slicing through you. 'Not with... anyone.'

You should leave. Should pretend you didn't hear. But your feet remain rooted to the spot as Isabella's laughter floats out. 'Ethan Reeves, are you actually flustered?'

His response is almost inaudible, but you catch the warmth in his tone, the affection you've dreamed of hearing directed at you. 'Only when you quote Donne back at me,' he murmurs.

When you finally find the strength to step forward, the door swings open, revealing them standing much closer than professional decorum allows. Ethan's eyes widen when he sees you, something like panic flashing across his features.

'What are you doing here?' he asks, his voice suddenly cold—the husband you know returning in an instant.