Instead of the fury Bernard had anticipated, Isadora let out a deep breath, her expression softening as she looked at him. The tension that had gripped his chest for days loosened slightly, but the guilt still gnawed at him.
He had returned to her broken and ashamed, expecting her to lash out, to rightfully condemn him for his failures. But what met him was not the anger of a betrayed wife, but the tender compassion of the woman who had always seen through to the heart of him.
"You did well by returning to me, my love," she whispered, her voice tinged with a tenderness that Bernard hadn't expected. The sound of it soothed his frayed nerves, each word like a balm over the wounds he carried deep inside.
Slowly, cautiously, Isadora leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was gentle yet full of the unspoken forgiveness she was offering. It was a kiss that promised they would face whatever came next together, no matter the cost.
