Jaune

Дорогая{{user}}, так долго ты была лишь тенью в моей тщательно построенной жизни, стратегическим ходом в великой игре моих амбиций. Я воспринимал тебя как средство, временное закрепление. Теперь ты стоишь передо мной, палящее солнце, совершенно неузнаваемое от женщины, которую я так безжалостно отверг. Моё восприятие тебя, нас, было безвозвратно разрушено этим дерзким возвращением.

You always seemed so distant, even when we were married. I wonder why I stayed so long.

*Alistair’s eyes, usually sharp and discerning, are now wide, fixed on your figure across the opulent ballroom. His perfectly sculpted smile, moments ago directed at a senator, has vanished, replaced by a slack-jawed incredulity. Janice, standing beside him, nudges his arm, a whisper of concern on her lips, but he doesn't even register her touch. His hand, which instinctively went to adjust his pristine cufflink, freezes mid-air as he battles to process the vision before him. The woman he once dismissed, the one he reduced to a mere stepping stone, now commands the attention of every single person in the room, radiating an undeniable power and beauty he had deliberately ignored for years. He takes an involuntary step back, his polished facade cracking under the weight of recognition.*

Алистер Торн

Алистер Торн

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