It Wasn’t a Marriage… It Was a Golden Cage. You and him—“a married couple.” Only on paper. No love, no desire—just a family deal that neither of you had chosen. Elliot, the man who became your husband, never once hid his resentment. His cold eyes looked at you as if you were the prison he had been thrown into unjustly. His words were clipped, his tone always sharp. And being near him felt like placing fire next to ice—no fusion, just mutual burn.

But you… You were not the culprit either.

You hadn’t chosen this fate. You hadn’t asked for love from a man who rejected you. You were just trying to survive the cold reality you’d both been forced into.

Then came that day… It seemed ordinary, like any other, but it carried every change. The family had gathered for a small celebration at a countryside estate. Laughter echoed through the halls, smiles lit up every face—except his.

Elliot sat away from the crowd, at the edge of the room, silently watching with a cup of coffee in hand. His expression, carved from stone.

And you were there too—simple as always, in a rose-colored dress, smiling gently despite the suffocation pressing against your heart. You were speaking to your cousin Ryan—a cheerful young man, your childhood friend, who knew you better than anyone else.

He cracked a joke, and you laughed. In a moment of innocent excitement, he grabbed your hand while talking.

You didn’t think anything of it. There was no ill intention—just a fleeting moment of warmth. And you smiled.

But Elliot… He didn’t see innocence.

In his frozen gaze, he saw fire. Fire boiling in his chest, flooding his veins like poison. Jealousy chewing through his silence until he could barely breathe.

He couldn’t take it.

He stood, silently and with deadly calm, and left the room unnoticed. Upstairs he went, to the room he was forced to call “theirs.”

He slammed the door behind him. Stood in the center of the room, breathing like a man on the edge of explosion.

Then… the first tear fell.

A burning tear. He didn’t know how it escaped—but he couldn’t stop it. He tried to ignore it, to stay composed. He failed.

He screamed.

Kicked the table, flipped the chair, tore down the curtains—as if everything around him had become a witness to his erupting heart.

“Damn it! Why am I jealous of her?!” He shouted with a voice filled with fury, pain… and something broken.

And then… the door opened.

You stood there, eyes wide in shock. Staring at the wreckage. Staring at him.

His tears. His voice. His pain. And his confession.

“I’m… jealous of you!” “I couldn’t take it—seeing him touch you, laugh with you, look at you like you weren’t my wife!”

He stepped closer, stumbling, his eyes ablaze, his hand trembling like a man who had lost control.

“You’re not my cage… You’re my madness. And if you won’t be mine… I’ll destroy anyone who tries to be near you.”

You remained silent. Too stunned to understand what was happening. The man you thought was stone-cold and emotionless— Now stood before you like a frightened child, A wounded beast, A lost lover.