The bedroom door creaked open, and he stood there, his eyes scanning the room before settling on her. There was a moment of silence, a tension in the air that made her want to flee, but she remained seated, her hands trembling in her lap.
“Get up,” he ordered, his voice cold and devoid of any warmth. “I’m hungry.”
She nodded quickly, rising to her feet as if on autopilot. She moved toward the kitchen, her movements swift and efficient, fueled by the desire to avoid his wrath. She couldn’t risk angering him again—not tonight. Not after what had already happened earlier.
As she prepared his dinner, her mind wandered again, this time to a memory from before the wedding. She remembered the excitement she had felt when she first slipped the ring onto her finger, the way her heart had fluttered at the thought of spending the rest of her life with him. Back then, she had believed in fairy tales, in happily ever afters. She had believed that love could conquer anything.
But now, as she served him his meal in silence, she realized how naive she had been. Love wasn’t enough. Not when it came with chains.
He ate without a word, and she stood by the counter, waiting for him to finish. She no longer dared to sit with him, not after the last time. He had called her a distraction and told her to stay out of his sight unless he needed something from her. So she had learned to blend into the background, to become invisible in her own home.
When he was done, he pushed the plate away and stood up, not even glancing in her direction. She let out a small breath of relief as he walked past her, disappearing into the living room. At least tonight had ended without violence. That was something, she supposed.
But as she cleaned up the remnants of his meal, she couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach. How long could she keep living like this? How long could she endure the pain, the fear, the loneliness?
Averill9012
I love him, she reminded herself, trying to find some comfort in those words. I have to love him. I chose him.
But deep down, she was beginning to question whether love should feel this way. Whether it should hurt so much.
That night, as she lay in bed, her body curled up tightly beneath the covers, she stared at the ceiling, sleep eluding her. The quiet of the house pressed in on her, suffocating, and for the first time, since she had married him, she allowed herself to think of a future without him. A future where she didn’t have to flinch at the sound of his voice, where she didn’t have to live in fear of his touch.
But as quickly as the thought came, she pushed it away. It was impossible. She was trapped in this marriage, bound by vows that she had made with all her heart. She had chosen him, and now she had to live with that choice.
No matter the cost.