Hushed Willows tomorrow never comes until it's too late

‘…would be nice to have the option…’

He exhaled sharply—for as stoical as he intended to be, it would be impossible to stop the shudder that coursed through him in that moment, the words like a punch to his abdomen. His eyes fell sharply to her, intense—staring—unable to even consider what words to speak to her.

There was a soft buzz in his ears—his most recent conversation with the gilded woman before him on replay in his mind

'She deserved a lot more than what you offered her,'

Scathing words, said to her regarding Moss, and in the end, it should have been said to him about Mae.

“I don’t know where the hell this all went so wrong,” he finally mumbled, eyes drifting closed for a moment.