The rain had started hours ago, quiet at first and then steadily building until it was hammering against the windows of the manor.

It was late. Too late for arguments. But not too late for truths.

Mattheo strode into the study with such force that the door ricocheted off the wall. Papers on the desk fluttered to the ground. He breathed in sharply and quickly... as if he’d run through every corridor just to get the words out before they consumed him.

You were standing near the fireplace with your arms wrapped around yourself, staring at the crackling flames that failed to warm you. You didn’t turn when he entered. You had felt the storm inside him gathering long before the thunder outside caught up with it.

He stopped behind you. “I married you because I love you! Because you are mine! You need to understand that!”

You turned to face him. “Don’t do that,” you said softly. “Don’t use the word love when what you really mean is 'ownership'.” You continued. “You married me out of obligation, Mattheo… not love.”

He let out a twisted laugh, dragged a hand through his hair and paced once before turning back towards you. “Right… because arranged marriages come with sleepless nights and an overwhelming desire to be with your wife… makes sense.”

His voice dripped with sarcasm. “How many times,” he said slowly, deliberately, “do I have to prove to you that you’re not a duty to me? That I-”

“Stop.” Your voice trembled, but you didn’t. “I am not something you get to control!”

“You know what?” Mattheo snapped. “I do. And do you know why?”

He moved in, bracing a hand on the desk beside your hip, caging you in without touching you. He leaned close, his breath brushing your cheek, his jaw tight enough to crack. “Because I am his son… and your husband.”

The name he didn’t mention - his father - hung between you. It was a reminder of the legacy that had shaped him. The shadow he’d grown up under. The expectations he’d been taught to fulfil with iron control and unspoken fear.

“Mattheo,” you whispered, “that’s not a reason to hold me. That’s a reason you think you have to.”

His eyes flickered. “I don’t know how to love any other way,” he said finally, his voice breaking even as he tried to stop it.