Melanie couldn't move either. Her breath caught in her throat as she drank in his appearance. The man before her was not the one she remembered, not quite. His face was thinner now, the hollows of his cheeks more pronounced. His skin looked slightly drawn, and the sharpness of his jawline was more defined, not from strength but from exhaustion. His shoulders had dropped, as though he carried something he hadn't been able to put down in weeks. Maybe even months.
He looked tired. So tired. And that glint in his eyes-the quiet mischief, the spark that used to make her feel like everything would be alright-was gone. The faint smirk that always played on his lips when he teased her, the confident look he wore even in tense moments, had vanished. Now, his expression was unreadable. Guarded. He was a different man.
