Later in life, I agreed to marry a man with disability — there was no love between us

it was ours.

That night, I lay in our bedroom, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain on the roof. My heart was a whirlwind of curiosity, nervousness, and anticipation. James entered the room quietly, holding a glass of water.

“Here,” he said gently. “Drink this. You must be exhausted.”

His voice was soft, like wind rustling through the trees, grounding continue reading …