"He coldly declared, advancing and shattering the fragile space around me, 'You're not my wife, got it?' His words pierced my already strained senses."
"In this coerced marriage, I'll remind you – it's circumstances dictating our union. If you absorb that fact quickly, it'll benefit both of us. Do you comprehend?" He forcefully pushed me against the wall, causing a sharp pain as our bodies collided. My thoughts raced with indignation – an idiot, a despicable person.
All I wanted was to retaliate, to see him suffer a fraction of my discomfort. Yet, trapped in this vulnerable position, I was barely able to move. Instead, I locked eyes with him, glaring back with equal determination.
I struggled, trying to escape his iron grip, which felt like being held down by a powerhouse. Despite my attempts to look away, his voice commanded my attention. "Answer me. Maintain eye contact when I speak, woman!"
"Do you grasp what I've said? Can you make it any clearer for yourself?" he taunted.
"Yes, I understand. I'm not your wife," I responded, the words tasting bitter.
"And let me assure you," I added, spitting out each word, "I hold no desire to be yours."
"Why that smug smile?" he queried, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing.
I tried to mask my rising anger with a sweet facade, "Oh, you're about to find out," I replied, my tone laced with hidden resentment.
