Martha sat on the stone bench as cold wind blew through her. Shivering, she realised that she should have brought her coat but excitement that light up her insides as she waited for him was enough to keep her warm.

'What are you hoping for?' the voice inside her cried as it shook in terror at what might happen.

'A friend and nothing more.' she tried to convince herself and pushed the voice to the back of her mind when a familiar figure appeared.

"Martha! How long have you been here?" Ivan asked her in worry taking her hand.

"Not long-"

"Don't lie. Your hands are ice cold!"

He scolded her and shrugged out of the coat and gave it to her.

"No, it's ok!" She tried refusing him but gave up when she hear a tsk of annoyance.

Warm in the jacket, they both sat next to each other in comfortable silence. It was the third time that they had met but she felt like she knew him all her life. There was something so comfortable about him, he felt like home.

'Too soon!' the voice that had been pushed back warned her with a quiet whisper.

"If I may ask..." The man next to her started.

"How did you even meet him?" He asked hesitantly.

She looked at him silently as her mind raced to answer him. And who had this gentleman refer to? It was her husband; no, ex husband.

Ivan blushed in embarrassment, taking her silence as refusal to talk about the topic. Just as he was going apologize and change the topic she slowly spoke.

"I met him when I was fourteen. In the village fair. I was back then a naïve little girl whose idea of romance was highly romanced." She said with a small chuckle.

"He was two years elder. A man according to others and as he slew the bull in front of all of us that had been let loose, drunk. He came to me and offered his hand when he saw me on the ground, my leg sprained and at that moment he had become a God to me.

My aunt who had seen this all couldn't have been more happy. One look and she went to his father to ask his son's hand for marriage with mine. While the elders discussed and made arrangements, I was up and above the clouds, so happy that I never wanted to come down. He would sometimes come home with flowers in his hands, telling that they were for me. For a girl like me, I thought how considerate and kind he was but I failed to see his true expression. Now that I am older, I can't believe I never noticed the apathy in his eyes when he shoved them in my face..."

Martha couldn't go on any longer.

Years she had wasted. Her love had slowly wilted till it had become but an ugly echo of what it once was. Looking at her troubled face with unshed tears, Ivan felt like a fool whose curiosity had gotten better of him. His fumbled with all types of nonsense ideas in his head in a way to cheer her up and finally gave up when he realised that the ideas became more ridiculous than the previous ones. Into the silence, he started speaking.

"Well... I'm from the north you know."

It had gotten her attention, Ivan noted with satisfaction.

"The sun is a rare thing to us with winter the most prominent season."

She looked at Ivan and suddenly asked him. "How many siblings do you have?"

"Three. All younger. Two brothers and a sister." Ivan told her after he got over the her sudden question. Looking at her, Ivan realised that she wanted to hear more about him. Usually this was where he stopped and changed the topic but today he felt like telling everything. Getting it all off his chest.

"I am the eldest, but my mother never actually liked me. I was born before she married father. While father accepted me and called me his own, she could never accept me. When father started paying lesser and lesser attention to her, she blamed it on me. That I was the one who cause father to stop loving her."

Giving a sigh he continued. "She was always the most beautiful. Men from far came to ask her hand and she was drunk on that feeling of being wanted. Though she had everything of her past hushed up, one day I found out all about it. And from that day her hatred against me simply grew out of bounds. Her own son, flesh and blood, she couldn't wait for him to die."

Martha looked at him in shock. She couldn't imagine how this man in front of her had survived. Though she had been an orphan, always imagining that her parents had loved her was one of the two things that had kept her going. But if her own mother was to hate her?

"It is almost lunch. Why don't you get going? And the winds don't seem to become gentler." Ivan looked up at the sky and told her. Martha was startled at how fast the time had passed. She reluctantly got up and looked at Ivan.

"Why don't you go? I have some work here." Ivan gave her a small smile. Martha nodded her head and disappeared into the rose garden. Sharing one's life stories was not an easy thing she thought as she left him, snow crunching beneath her feet, to give him some space.

Back at the bench, Ivan hunched over in pain. His mother's curse was getting stronger and stronger, shouting him to do something or it would do for him. He had delayed as much as he could have, trying each and every possible method to get out of the tangles that his mother had woven around him. Giving out a heart wrenching cough he lifted his hand to touch his wet cheek. Bringing it closer to this eyes he realised that it was blood as he tumbled into the darkness.

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