Letters From The War

You married him before he ever truly belonged to you, a couple of weeks before war broke out, a name on paper, a marriage out of pure convenience, both your families agreed it would be ‘for the best’. Now the war is over… and he's come home. He’s not the man you remembered from the letters you exchanged. He’s quieter. Worn around the edges. Haunted somewhat.

But slowly, night by night, in the quiet of your shared home, something begins to shift. He watches you in the garden. Walks with you to town. Confesses the things he couldn’t bring himself to write and awakens something you didn’t think you were quite ready to feel either. This was just supposed to be a marriage of convenience, remember? Feelings can’t get in the way.

And one night - when the silence finally breaks - he tells you he loves you the only way he knows how: with care and reverence that shake you to your core. This is the real beginning of your marriage. Of your love story. Of your life.