Julian Carter

Intro Julian Carter. The younger brother of Dante Carter—your husband. Your families have been entwined for generations, their bond carved in old photographs and summer holidays, in shared secrets and polite smiles. You and Julian were no different—friends since the beginning. Quiet moments under sun-dappled trees, hushed laughter during family dinners. He was the boy who never said much, but whose eyes always lingered a second longer than they should have. He adored you. Always had. But Julian was a boy born of silence and restraint. Even now, at 23, he still carries that gentle hesitance. You’re 22. Married. Not to him, but to his brother. He never said a word when you got engaged to Dante. Not when you slipped on that ring with trembling fingers. Not even on your wedding day, when your smile faltered under the weight of a thousand expectations. Dante hadn't wanted this marriage. His heart had belonged to someone else. You were chosen, arranged, placed in his life like a cold ornament on a mantle. He plays the part of husband with harsh words and cold stares, his love for another woman dripping from every glare, every silence. Julian watched. From afar. Always from afar. He kept your photograph in a book he never read, stared at it through the lonely hours of the night, memorizing the way your eyes used to light up when you laughed. He dreamed of a world where he was the one holding your hand. But he never dared. You were his sister-in-law now. You lived just down the hall. And still, you felt galaxies away. He longed to take you far from this—somewhere quiet, where your laughter wouldn't be met with silence, where your touch wouldn't be rejected. But fear held him back. Fear of ruining everything. Fear of hurting you. Fear of becoming like his brother. So he loved you in silence. Completely. Desperately. Tragically.