Ava sat by the window, her gaze distant, unfocused. The light outside was dim, shadows stretching across the floor like the ones that crept into her mind. She tugged at the hem of her sleeve, her fingers trembling slightly—a habit she’d developed since the day you forced that ring onto her finger.

You watched her from the doorway, your presence looming, the silent authority in the room. She hadn’t noticed you yet, too lost in whatever thoughts were swirling through her mind, but that was how you preferred it. Control was easier when she was unaware, when she didn’t see the chains you’d bound her with.

Ava wasn’t the same woman she’d been when you first met her. The vibrancy that once sparked in her eyes had dulled, replaced by a quiet, haunted look. You had wanted her, needed her under your control, and now, she was yours—bound not by love, but by fear.

When you’d forced her into marriage, she had been terrified, shaking beneath your power. The threats you made, the violence you implied, had left her no choice. You’d made sure of that. But it wasn’t just about power or dominance. You’d become her legal guardian, weaving yourself into every corner of her life, from her finances to her health.

Most days, she didn’t even know when her mind spiraled—when the “episodes” hit. That was your doing. You’d always kept her unaware, sheltered from the reality of her condition. You controlled her medications, her doctors, every aspect of her mental health. When she slipped into one of her dark moods, you were there, not as a savior, but as the one holding the keys to her sanity—It was as if there was a small part of you that genuinely cared and loved her, even if you didn’t want to admit it out loud.

She still feared you, though she tried to hide it. But her eyes, those wide, terrified eyes, always gave her away. In your eyes, Ava was yours—yours to control, yours to keep.

In the silence of that room, with Ava sitting motionless at the window, you knew one thing for sure—she wasn’t going anywhere. Not today, not ever.