AVA'S POV
They say when you marry someone, you don't just marry them, you marry their world.
I hadn't realized how vast and suffocating Ethan's world was
until I found myself lost in it.
That morning, I woke up in a bed too large, in a room too cold. The silk sheets clung to my skin like reminders of the night before, lonely, uneventful, and perfectly distant. Ethan had not returned to our bedroom.
Again.
I stared at the ceiling, wondering what it would feel like to be in a marriage that didn't feel like a prolonged performance.
The media was still fawning over our wedding. Every headline
gushed over our chemistry, our elegance, our fairy tale. No one saw the truth. The press called us "The Golden Couple."
If only they knew how heavy gold could feel.
My phone buzzed beside me. A message from Diane.
Diane: Meeting with the charity board today at 11. Your dress is already laid out. Be ready by 10:30. Ethan will be picking you up.
The irony didn't miss me. Diane, my former assistant, now
managed my schedule with more authority than warmth. She had become Ethan's most loyal confidante, and somewhere along the line, I'd lost her.
By 10:30, I was dressed and ready in a tailored cream sheath dress and matching heels. My hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and my lips painted a soft nude. I looked like a Kingsley, polished, powerful, plastic.
Ethan arrived precisely on time, his black Bentley purring outside like a panther.
He didn't say much as I slid into the passenger seat beside him. He simply glanced at me, nodded, and began driving.
The silence between us wasn't new. But today, it felt heavier.
"You didn't come home last night," I said quietly.
He didn't look at me. "Had some business to attend to."
"In the middle of the night?"
His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. "Drop it, Ava."
So I did. But not without swallowing the lump forming in my throat.
The charity event was as dazzling as ever. Glimmering chandeliers, white orchids, flutes of champagne, and fake smiles. I played my part, smiled, laughed, made small talk with donors and socialites. Ethan stood beside me, a perfect figurehead, charming the room with ease.
But every time I looked at him, I saw the distance widening. And it terrified me.
After the event, we took separate cars back to the estate. I claimed a headache. He didn't argue.
Once alone, I walked through the garden paths, the scent of
blooming jasmine floating on the breeze. My heels clicked against the stone as I let myself unravel in the privacy of the hedges.
Why did it feel like I was fading inside this life?
When I returned inside, there was a letter waiting on my nightstand. No envelope. Just folded paper.
I unfolded it slowly.
Ava,
There are things I wish I could say to you, but I don't know how. I never meant for this to become what it is. You deserved more than a contract. I just didn't know how to offer you anything else. There's a part of me that wants to fix this, but every time I try, I remember why I built these walls in the first place. I see you. Even if I don't always show it.
—E
I read the letter three times, my fingers trembling.
It wasn't a confession of love.
It wasn't an apology.
But it was something.
And for now, that was enough.
That night, I didn't sleep. I sat by the window, watching the moon hang low in the sky, Ethan's note clutched in my hand. There were
still no answers. No promises.
Just questions.
But for the first time in weeks, I didn't feel entirely alone.
The cracks in the mirror had begun to show.
And maybe, just maybe, that meant the truth was finally breaking through