The Bride of the Unbroken Oath

There was a time when they loved one another in the way people are expected to — warm, hopeful, unbroken.

That version of them did not survive.

What remains is something quieter, harder, and far more binding.

He does not hold her out of possession, and she does not stay out of weakness. Their bond is forged in promises made when the world was still kind, and honored now — even as kindness has left them both.

Her heart rests in her hand because it no longer belongs inside her chest.
It belongs to the life they lived, the choices they made, and the cost they accepted.

His hand at her shoulder is not control — it is resignation.
A final acknowledgment that devotion can outlast love,
and duty can outlive the people who made it.

This is not ruin.

It is the quiet aftermath of loyalty.

Heather Lynn Donovan
Always by Candlelight