Three days later, the cane taps, the new woman smiles too sweetly, and he opens his eyes—not for her, but for the memory of *her*. The real tragedy? He’s awake enough to feel the betrayal, but not enough to stop it. Love in Ashes burns slow… and someone’s already holding the match. 💔
That moment when she holds his hand—bandaged, fragile—while he sleeps, and the man in brown watches like a ghost. No words, just sunlight slicing through the room like judgment. Love in Ashes isn’t about fire; it’s about the ash that still remembers warmth. 🌫️🔥