Chapter 2

His lips brushed against my hair. He froze for a second, then chuckled.

"What's wrong, babe? Did you have a bad dream?"

I said nothing.

He reached out to cup my cheek, but I flinched away again.

His hand hung awkwardly in the air before he slowly drew it back. He sat up, squinting at me in the morning light.

"Are you mad at me?"

His voice was soft, laced with that familiar tenderness.

"Is it because I came home late last night? The emergency board meeting ran late. I really couldn't get out of it."

I remained silent.

He leaned closer, searching my eyes, and suddenly smiled.

"Oh, I get it. Did you read some stupid relationship advice on TikTok again?"

He ruffled my hair, treating me like a spoiled child. "Come on, stop overthinking. I'll leave work early today and take you to that fancy sushi place you’ve been dying to try, okay?"

His tone was so natural. So full of affection.

For seven years, he had always been like this.

If I was angry, he would coax me.

If I was sad, he would make me laugh.

Whatever I wanted, he never said no.

That was why I had never doubted him.

That was why I believed every single lie that came out of his mouth.

"Ethan," I spoke, my voice raspy and unrecognizable.

"Yeah, babe?"

"You and her... when did you two meet?"

The smile on his face slowly stiffened.

"Who are you talking about?"

His voice tightened, but he forced a laugh.

"What 'her'?"

He was still acting.

I looked at him. This was the face I had loved for seven years, yet it suddenly felt like looking at a complete stranger.

"Your Instagram," I said. "The private account. The one with hundreds of posts. The one I was blocked from."

His face went completely pale.

"The girl. The one you call your wife. The one you just celebrated a three-year anniversary with."

His lips parted, but no sound came out.

"Seven years, Ethan."

My voice began to tremble.

"I never once checked your phone. Because you said relationship boundaries and trust were important to you, and I believed you. You said you didn't care about social media, and I believed you. You said you'd introduce me to your parents when we were financially ready, and I believed you. You said you wanted to enjoy our twenties before getting married, and I believed that too."

Tears finally broke free, hot and heavy down my face.

"I believed everything you said."

Panic finally set in.

He lunged forward to hug me, but I pushed him away with all my strength.

"Clara, listen to me," he pleaded, his words jumbled and frantic. "It's not what you think. It was an arranged marriage. My parents forced me. They threatened to cut me off, to disown me, they even faked a medical emergency... I had no choice..."

I stared at him, my heart turning to ice.

"You had no choice?"

I repeated his words, tasting the venom in them.

"So your parents forced you to marry her? Forced you to take her out on dates, go on romantic trips, and celebrate her birthdays? Did they also force you to post hundreds of pictures showing off how much you love her on social media?"

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