The heavy double doors loomed before us, polished to a mirror shine. My reflection barely looked like me—too clean, too still, like something dressed up to be displayed. I didn't feel ready. Not for this. Not for the show.
Beside me, Damir adjusted his cuffs, his jaw sharp under the golden chandelier light spilling through the hallway. He didn't say much—he never needed to. One glance was enough to remind me who I belonged to.
But this time, he spoke. Cool and composed.
"Don't do anything stupid," he said, like it was a casual reminder, like it wasn't my life being picked apart tonight.
"We have to survive this night. Don't bother trying to smile. Just stay quiet."
I nodded. I didn't trust myself to speak. I was too afraid my voice would tremble. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how small I felt.
The doors opened. And in an instant, the world narrowed to a room full of stares.
They looked at us like we were painted in gold—like we were something beautiful, something perfect. Damir walked ahead, his presence magnetic, shoulders back, expression untouched by anything. He wore power like a second skin. If he was nervous, he didn't show it. He never did.
Me? I followed a step behind. Too aware of every whisper, every gaze, every pair of eyes measuring the way I walked, the way I stood. For a moment, the warmth of the lights, the grandeur of the party, almost fooled me. I almost felt like I belonged.
Almost.
But it didn't last.
The glitter in the air couldn't hide the hollow in my chest. I was alone. So completely, achingly alone, even as I stood next to the man everyone admired.
I spotted my family across the room. My mother's posture was flawless, her laughter carefully timed with those around her. When she saw me, her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward, touching my arm like it pained her to do so.
"Are you behaving yourself?" she asked, voice low, smile frozen. "You're not going to ruin this, are you?"
Then came the inevitable line—always the same, always a quiet blade.
"You have to be perfect. Like your sister."
Perfect.
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and forced a nod. My hands trembled at my sides, but I tucked them away into the fabric of my sleeves, trying to disappear into the seams.
Behind me, Damir lingered—silent, unreadable. Watching. I could feel him even when I wasn't looking. I didn't know if it was comfort or control. All I knew was that no matter where I turned, his shadow followed.
The music began to swell, crystal glasses clinked, laughter sparkled like broken glass in the air. Everyone seemed to belong. Everyone knew how to play their part.
Except me.
I stood in a room full of celebration, and not a single soul felt like home.
I wandered through the maze of laughter and lights, the weight of the party pressing down on me. No one seemed to care I was even here. No one except the man who had put me in this golden cage.
I kept walking.
Around me, crystal glasses clinked, music played, and gowns swept against marble. I passed by a man standing near the long bar, not even looking up—until a warm hand gently touched my arm.
"Hey."
I turned.
He had the same eyes—calm, steady, always able to see through the noise. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
"Lior?" I said, blinking.
He smiled. "I've been looking for you. Took me forever to find you in your own party."
I gave a small, awkward smile. "It's not really mine."
He raised a brow. "Not like you to be this invisible."
There was something soft in the way he spoke, something unspoken in the way his eyes stayed on me a little too long.
"How've you been?" he asked. "After... that day."
I laughed quietly. "Still alive. Still confused."
He leaned in slightly. "You told me you liked someone else."
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I did."
"And now you're married to him."
I didn't know how to respond. The words got stuck in my throat. I just looked down, then away.
"So," I said, changing the subject, "are you seeing anyone?"
Lior shook his head. "No. I still like the same person."
I looked at him, puzzled. "Who?"
He gave a soft chuckle. "You, idiot."
My breath caught.
"Lior—"
"Relax," he said, grinning. "We're just talking."
For the first time that evening, I laughed. Not because I was happy. But because it felt real. And for a moment, in this sea of perfection, I felt like I had someone on my side.
We slipped into the rhythm of old conversations, the memories flowing like wine. The people blurred around us. I was smiling. I didn't even notice when the room chilled.
Until a hand wrapped around my waist.
Firm. Possessive.
I turned my head. Damir.
His eyes locked onto Lior. "Long time no see."
"Yeah," Lior replied coolly.
Damir smiled, too sharp to be kind. "I need Auren for something."
Before I could speak, he pulled me away.
Down the hall.
Into a bathroom.
The door clicked shut behind us.
He leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
"Are you happy?" he asked.
I blinked. "What?"
"With him. Are you happy with him now?"
"He's just a friend. My college friend."
Damir scoffed. "I don't care who he is to you."
I swallowed hard. My chest was tight, my throat even tighter. There he was again—towering over me, throwing his weight into the room, and demanding answers I didn't even know how to give.
He stared at me, silent.
"Then what do you want from me?" I asked, voice trembling, not from fear, but from the storm building in me. "You've been watching me like I'm some… some possession. Every damn moment since the wedding."
Still, no reply. Not a flicker of expression.
"Did I do something wrong to you?" I whispered. "Am I that terrible? Is this what I deserve?"
He finally opened his mouth—but not to comfort me. Not to explain. His voice was low, biting.
"You looked happier with him."
The air left my lungs. There it was. Not anger. Not pain. Jealousy.
"You're jealous," I said, staring at him like I didn't know him anymore. "You think I'm some doll that'll smile for you but never look at anyone else."
He stepped forward, face cold. "Maybe I just expect my husband not to flirt in public—"
That did it.
I shoved him back.
"Flirt?" My voice cracked with rage. "You drag me into this marriage, treat me like I'm invisible, and now you get to be jealous?! You don't even like me, Damir! You only want to own me!"
His jaw clenched, but he didn't stop me.
"You say I looked happy with him? Maybe because for a second, I wasn't scared to breathe!"
Silence.
"You think I'm yours just because you put a ring on my finger?" I scoffed. "No. I'm not yours. Not like this."
He blinked, once. Something shifted in his eyes, but I couldn't tell what.
"You don't get to act like you care only when someone else does," I said, voice breaking. "That's not love. That's a cage."
I turned away, throat burning.
And then—
I left.
Didn't look back. Didn't wait for him to follow.
Didn't want to see what he would or wouldn't say next.
To be continued...