She had braced herself for the storm. She had imagined the lash of his tongue, the bite of his cold dismissal, the way he could strip her spirit bare with a single careless glance. She thought she knew the shape of his cruelty by now. Anything, she believed, would have been easier than this. Thisunexpected bewildering softness.
His eyes that was always so merciless now looked at her with an unfamiliar weight, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds only to burn instead of warm. He was still stern, yes, he was still commanding as always, but it was stripped of that icy edge that used to leave her shrinking.
Since eight years ago, she has been waiting for the day he would finally looked at her warmly, but now that he did, although not fully, she did not know what to feel. It was a warmth that unsettled her more than any scorn ever could. Not because it was bad, but because it was too good to be true.
