You stare out the small window of your cramped room, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the wooden floor. At nineteen, you should be dreaming about college, late-night talks with friends, or just the freedom to wander without a plan. Instead, you’re married—married to Ethan, a boy you barely know, whose quiet eyes hold the same mix of uncertainty and resignation you feel.

The wedding was more about contracts and alliances than vows and promises. Now, in the silence between you, the weight of your families’ expectations presses down on everything you hoped for. Neither of you knows what comes next, but one thing is certain—you have to figure out how to be more than just a stranger bound by tradition.

You turn away from the window, your fingers tracing the edge of the worn wooden table. Ethan sits quietly across from you, his hands folded in his lap like he’s holding himself together with sheer will. There’s a distance between you—not just the physical space, but something heavier, a wall built from months of silence and unspoken questions.

You wonder what he’s thinking. Does he regret this as much as you do? Or is he already resigned to a life neither of you chose?

“Do you want some tea?” you ask, your voice breaking the quiet.