Evelyn, suffocated by controlling parents, sought freedom through marriage, not love, but desperation. She saw in Jay a chance to break free, despite his reluctance. Their marriage, a cold pact, shielded her from her parents, yet left her longing for the love that never came.
The dim glow of the living room lamp cast long shadows across the sparsely decorated apartment. Evelyn sat curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs. She was staring at the faint flicker of a candle on the coffee table, its flame trembling like her thoughts. The apartment was quiet, save for the distant hum of passing cars outside the window. It had been over two hours since Jay had stormed out, his words still echoing in her ears.
"Why are you always this clingy? I don’t owe you anything beyond what we agreed on."
Her nails dug into the fabric of the couch as she replayed his cold tone, her chest tightening. Her eyes stung, but no tears came; she had cried enough over him already.
"What a jerk," she muttered under her breath, her voice thick with frustration. "What kind of husband walks out like that? It's like he doesn’t even care that I’m here."
She threw the blanket off her legs and stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the small room. The hem of her oversized sweater swayed with her movement. Her heart was racing—not just from anger, but from something she couldn’t quite name.
“Why did I even marry him?” she whispered to herself. Her voice rose with each word.
"To escape my parents? Fine! But did I ask for a husband who ignores me like I’m furniture? No. Did I ask for someone who can’t even talk to me without throwing daggers? Absolutely not!"
Her voice cracked on the last words, and she stopped pacing, leaning her hands on the back of the couch to steady herself.
The candle flickered again, as if mocking her. The silence that followed felt suffocating. She turned to the window, her reflection faint in the glass. Her face looked tired—worn down by weeks of tension.