That winter, Arthur fell gravely ill. Fever took his strength, and the quiet house filled with worry. Matilda sat by his bedside through the long nights, reading aloud by lamplight, cooling his forehead, whispering prayers she barely remembered from childhood.
Matilda smiled. “I am your wife,” she said simply.
Something shifted between them after that. Not passion, but devotion — steady and real.
They built a life together marked not by wealth or romance, but by respect and gentleness. The neighbors whispered about the odd pair — the young wife and the older man who never seemed to touch her — but neither of them paid attention. Their peace was enough.
The Family They Chose
Years passed quietly. Their farm prospered, and their home grew warmer, yet one thing was missing: the sound of children.
One day, Matilda looked at Arthur and asked softly, “What if we adopted?”
Hope flickered in his eyes. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is,” she said. “Family can be chosen.”
Soon after, they brought home a shy little girl named Ella, who clung to Matilda’s dress like a shadow. Later came Liam, and then Mia — three children who filled the house with laughter and the smell of fresh bread and muddy boots by the door.
