“In the end, what am I?”
Her fingers dug into her dress.
“I’m justMrs. Creed. Not the woman he loves.” Her voice dropped into a broken whisper. “Just a woman he was forced to marry and endure.”
Another sob escaped her.
“Just a fucking charity case wearing his ring.”
The maid looked at her helplessly, her eyes soft with pity, but she didn’t know what to say.
Amara cried so hard her entire body shook uncontrollably. Tears dripped endlessly down her chin while her chest tightened painfully with every breath.
The maid quietly cleaned the shattered glass from the floor before eventually leaving the room in silence.
The bedroom became deathly quiet again.
After a long time, Amara slowly pushed herself up from the floor with trembling hands, but the moment her eyes landed on the bed, pain twisted through her chest again.
She couldn’t even bear to look at it.
That bed only reminded her of how empty their marriage truly was.
Instead, her bare feet stepped onto the cold marble floor as she slowly walked toward the couch beside the window.
The city lights glowed faintly outside the glass.
Amara curled herself up tightly on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest while silently staring outside the window for the rest of the night.
To her surprise, Elias returned home the next morning.
The bedroom doors opened quietly before he stepped inside.
His gaze immediately landed on her curled figure on the couch.
But only for a second.
Then he looked away just as quickly.
He casually tossed his phone onto the side table before sliding off his expensive watch and dropping it beside it. The sharp metallic clink cut through the silence of the room.
“This is the first time since we got married that you haven’t called me even once when I wasn’t home.”
His deep voice filled the room casually as if nothing had happened the night before.
Amara slowly lifted her swollen, red-rimmed eyes toward him.
Elias loosened his tie roughly with one hand while walking across the room, his movements calm and composed.
“You call me several times on the nights I don’t come home,” he said casually, not even looking at her as he pulled his tie loose and let it hang undone around his collar. “So what is it this time? Tired of fighting? Or are you still sulking?”
His gaze finally flicked toward her.
Their eyes met.
She was still wearing the same red dress from the night before. Her hair was messy, her eyes hollow, and her body sat stiffly curled on the couch.
Elias finally paused.
