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Two strangers. One vow. A journey from silence to love...
Hi there, reader. I'm not a professional writer. English isn't my first language, and this is one of my first attempts at writing something this close to my heart.
But this story?
This story is raw. It's honest. It's about two broken souls — Ethan and Olivia — brought together not by choice, but by circumstance. They don't fall in love overnight. In fact, they don't even believe they can love again.
But little by little — through silent dinners, shared wounds, rainy nights, and soft glances — something begins to grow. Not a fairytale. But something real. Something that stays.
If you've ever felt alone, if you've ever had your heart broken and wondered if healing was even possible… this story is for you.
Come walk with me through Chapter One: Two Strangers, One Vow.
I promise — by the end, you won't just read about their love.
You'll feel it.
The rain was relentless that day. Not just in the skies, but in Ethan's heart. He had returned to Bengaluru after five years abroad — not because he missed the city, but because he had nowhere else to go.
The marriage that had once defined him, that he fought so hard for, had shattered quietly — with a note and a lawyer's email. He'd built everything: a career, a house, dreams with her. But love, it seemed, had packed up and left when he wasn't looking.
His parents welcomed him with warm hugs and quiet concern. They didn't say much, but the sadness in their eyes mirrored his. And then came the unexpected.
"We want you to consider marriage," his father said gently one morning.
Ethan laughed. "You're joking."
"She's a good girl," his mother said. "She's also going through something. You don't have to fall in love. Just… live again."
He wasn't interested. Until he met Olivia.
The wedding hall was still — too still.
No music. No laughter. Just the faint rustle of silk and whispered instructions from the priest. A hundred people surrounded them, but it felt like two ghosts sitting at the center of a storm.
Ethan sat on the mandap, his face carved from stone. Not nervous. Not excited. Just... absent. His past wasn't a shadow behind him; it clung to him like a second skin.
Then she walked in.
Olivia.
She wasn't smiling. Her eyes were too tired for that. They didn't sparkle — they held a quiet weight, the kind born from abandonment, from promises that turned to silence.
She took her place beside him. They didn't speak. Didn't look at each other.
But for the briefest moment, their eyes met.
And in that instant — not magic, not attraction — recognition.
Two broken hearts, stitched by fate.
Two people who showed up, not out of love, but because they had nothing left to lose.
A quiet, wordless pact formed that day:
"I won't expect love. Just… don't break me more than I already am."
And thus began the quietest beginning of a story neither of them believed would matter.