After the court marriage, Ryan and Elina returned home. The weight of their decision hung in the air like a silent storm, unseen but powerful.
Elina sat in the car, her fingers nervously twisting together. "How will I face Lia?" The thought echoed in her mind again and again. "What if she doesn't accept me? What if she hates me?"
As Ryan parked the car in the driveway, Elina hesitated before stepping out. Her heart was heavy with guilt, a feeling she couldn't shake off.
Noticing her troubled expression, Ryan gently took her hand in his. His grip was firm, steady—reassuring. "We didn't do anything wrong," he said, his voice calm but certain.
Elina looked at him, searching his face for doubt, for any sign of hesitation. But there was none.
Ryan turned towards the house and called out, "Lia!"
A few seconds later, Lia appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands with a cloth. She looked at them, first at Ryan, then at Elina, her expression neutral—unreadable.
Ryan didn't waste time. "Elina and I got married."
Silence.
For a moment, Lia just stood there, processing his words. It was as if time had stopped.
Then, suddenly, a soft smile appeared on her face.
"Welcome home, Elina." Her voice was warm, welcoming—too welcoming.
She stepped forward and gently held Elina's hands. "I'm really happy that you're here."
Ryan watched, slightly surprised. Elina, on the other hand, felt her heart tighten. "Is she really okay? Or is she just pretending?"
Lia's smile never faded, but deep inside, she knew—some wounds don't bleed on the surface. They bleed silently, where no one can see.