01. Annulment

The air hung heavy with the scent of old leather and polished wood, the familiar aroma of Damian's study. Rosslyn sat across from him, the mahogany desk a stark barrier between them, a physical manifestation of the emotional distance that had grown between them over the years. She stared at the legal document lying on the desk, the words "Annulment Decree" starkly printed on the top, a chilling reminder of the end of their six-year marriage.

"Here, sign the annulment," she said, her voice a mere whisper, her hand trembling slightly as she pushed the document towards him. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of sadness and determination, met his. His face, sculpted with strong cheekbones and a sharp jawline, was framed by dark, unruly hair that he usually kept neatly combed back, revealing a forehead that was both broad and slightly furrowed, as if perpetually contemplating some internal dilemma. His eyes, a deep, penetrating blue, held a distant, almost icy quality, as if perpetually shielded from the world by an invisible wall.

Damian didn't move. He stared at the document, his gaze fixed on the signature line, his fingers tracing the outline of the words "Annulment Decree" with a detached air. His silence, heavy and suffocating, was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions raging within Rosslyn.

She had loved him with an unwavering passion, a love that had bloomed in the vibrant chaos of her youth, a love that had weathered the storms of her tumultuous relationship. But a drunken night of reckless abandon, a night that had resulted in the unexpected arrival of their twin babies, had irrevocably altered the landscape of her secret love. It was a love born of a mistake, a love that had been overshadowed by the weight of responsibility for Damian as man and a father.

She wouldn't deny the fact that he was a great father figure to their twins, a man who showered them with affection and care. He was a devoted father, but not a husband. His love for their children was a beacon, a constant source of warmth and light, but for her, the embers of his love had long since turned to ash before she could grasp it.

It hurt her deeply, not just the coldness in his gaze, the distance that felt like a chasm between them, but the cold shoulder she received from her family. Her mistake, her drunken night of recklessness, had driven a wedge between them, a wedge that had shattered their family unit. Her sister, Clare, the apple of her father's eye, had left Damian's side, her heart broken, her trust shattered. Rosslyn's in-laws, who had always favored Clare, had turned their backs on her, their disapproval a constant weight on her soul.

Damian, a man of sharp angles and unwavering composure, was every woman's dream, but his heart was locked, and the key holder was Clare, Rosslyn's sister. He was a man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, a man who had built a fortress around his heart, a fortress that Rosslyn had once believed she had breached, but now seemed impenetrable.

If the twins didn't exist, the marriage between them wouldn't have happened. Rosslyn was hated by her own family, their disgust towards her palpable. But to her, it was nothing new at all. They had been like that since she was young. She hardly understood her parents and siblings' actions and behavior towards her, so she always coped and hid her pain in her heart, thinking that maybe they would change and come back to how it was before she was abducted. She clung to them, but her grandpa saw everything and asked her to come with him. He showered her with the love and affection she couldn't receive from her own parents.

"Damian," Rosslyn said, her voice trembling, her heart pounding in her chest. "I can't do this anymore. I can't live like this."

He finally looked up, his gaze a cold, unyielding ice. "Live like what?" he asked, his voice laced with a chilling indifference.

"Like this," she said, gesturing towards the document. "Like we're strangers, like we're living in a marriage that's nothing but a hollow shell."

He sighed, a weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of their unspoken pain, the weight of their fractured dreams. "Rosslyn," he said, his voice a low rumble, a sound that echoed the emptiness in her heart. "There's nothing left to say."

She felt a wave of despair wash over her, a wave that threatened to drown her in the depths of her sorrow. She had come here hoping for a miracle, hoping for a spark of the love. But all she found was a cold, unforgiving reality, a reality where love had never existed been replaced by a bitter silence, a reality where she was no longer a wife but a ghost, a shadow haunting the remnants of her shattered dreams.

"I understand," she said, her voice choked with tears, her heart heavy with the weight of her own unspoken pain. "I understand."

She picked up the pen, her hand shaking, her heart breaking. She signed the document, her eyes filled with tears, her soul filled with a profound sense of loss. The annulment decree was a physical manifestation of her shattered dreams, a testament to the love she had lost, a love that had been born of a mistake, a love that had been consumed by the flames of their shared pain.

As she walked out of his study, she felt a wave of despair wash over her, a wave that threatened to drown her in the depths of her sorrow. She had lost everything: her love, her family, her dreams. All that remained was the echo of a love that had once been, a love that had been consumed by the flames of their shared pain, a love that would forever haunt her, a love that would forever be a testament to the emptiness of their shared past.

The rain continued to fall outside, a relentless rhythm that mirrored the turmoil within her, a turmoil that would forever haunt her, a turmoil that would forever be a testament to the love she had lost, the love that had been shattered by a drunken night of reckless abandon, a night that had left them both forever changed, forever marked by the emptiness of their shared past.

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