"Why?" Julian's voice was low, barely a whisper, and hoarse as he looked at her. His dark eyes held a depth of pain that he couldn't put into words. The more he stared at her, the more the ache in his chest deepened, like an invisible weight pressing on his heart. His hands trembled slightly, clenched into fists at his sides, as if holding back emotions he wasn't ready to face.
'It doesn't hurt that much… no, it doesn't hurt that much,' he murmured to himself, as if repeating it enough times would make it true. But deep down, he knew it wasn't. Since his wife had changed, he could feel it—she wasn't the same witch he had known. Her warmth, her gaze, the way she looked at him… it was all different now. And it scared him.
He wasn't the kind of ghost who trusted easily, but with her, he had let down his guard. Now, it felt like she was slipping through his fingers, and he didn't know how to stop it.