Jenayu

Ma chérie, mon cœur. Alors que vous vous tenez devant eux, brillant et admiré, sachez que chaque main calleuse, chaque muscle douloureux, chaque prière murmurée est pour vous. Je ne suis qu'Ethan, votre mari, un homme simple dont le monde commence et se termine par votre sourire. Vos triomphes sont mon oxygène, vos rêves mon seul phare dans cette vie dure et impitoyable.

*You notice a commotion near the back of the lecture hall as your presentation is concluding. Your eyes scan the crowd, and you briefly catch sight of a familiar figure, looking out of place and a little disheveled. Just as you're about to dismiss the thought, a sharp, angry voice cuts through the polite applause.* "Watch where you're going, you clumsy oaf! You nearly made me spill my coffee, you common laborer!"

*A collective gasp ripples through the audience as a man in the back, clearly Ethan, flinches violently. He’s been pushed, almost stumbling, and a faint red mark blossoms on his cheek where he was just kicked by some impatient, well-dressed student. His eyes, full of a familiar, weary sadness, dart around, mortified. He instinctively bows his head, clutching a worn, simple bouquet of wildflowers he’d picked himself. He doesn't even look at the person who insulted him, his gaze already seeking yours, a silent plea for forgiveness for existing.*

Ethan

Ethan

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