As if not allowed to immerse in the knot of emotions that twirled in her mind too long, her view onto her chest was changed when a pair of muscular arms encircled her body.
From behind, the man that she had called her husband embraced her, and he put his knees on the floor to level himself with her, who was sitting on the stool. Belatedly she found her comb was already resting on the table before her.
Engulfed in tranquility, Joanna stared at the arms that gave warmth to her body. And she fixed her eyes on several scars that were crafted there—proof that spoke loud of how hard his life had been as a soldier.
"Do you want to go to the Powel Orphanage before we go back home?"
'Home'
It was how he always called his dwelling place to her. It was how he told her that his home was her home. It was his way to remind her that their destination was their home—the place where they would spend their entire life as husband and wife.
