"I can't believe this," Ella whispered to herself, her voice trembling as if the words alone could shatter her. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest, a relentless reminder of betrayal and loss.
"How can I go out after this?" she asked herself again, panic and disbelief mingling in her chest. The room around her felt suffocating, the walls pressing in, the silence screaming back at her with every heartbeat.
Ella moved mechanically, her limbs heavy with exhaustion and emotion. She ignored everyone around her, brushing past any potential interruptions, and went straight to her room. The door closed behind her with a soft, final click that felt like the world shutting out its judgment.
She leaned against the cool surface of the door, knees weak, and slowly sank to the floor. The hardwood felt cold and unyielding beneath her, mirroring the emptiness settling in her chest. Her body shook, not just from sobs, but from the weight of helplessness. She cried until her lungs burned, her voice echoing off the walls, raw and desperate.
Frustration erupted into action; vases toppled, a frame slipped from the dresser, and shards of glass scattered across the floor, catching the dim light in cruel, glittering reflections. Every throw, every shout was a release, a small rebellion against the hopelessness that clawed at her. The room became a battlefield, the quiet of the house pierced by the chaos of her grief.
Hours passed, yet Ella remained on the floor, silent, refusing to speak or let anyone enter her fortress of despair. She was untouchable in her pain.
Outside her door, Ben noticed the sudden, he strode to her door, his presence commanding even in the hallway.
"Come out now, or I'll break the door," he said, his voice low but firm, slicing through the heavy silence.
No response came. Ella stayed hidden behind the door, her body curled, her soul raw.
"I am not requesting you open this door," Ben added as he began banging against the wood, the sound echoing harshly down the corridor.
Finally, with a burst of anger, pain, and frustration, Ella flung the door open. Her eyes blazed, tears streaking her cheeks, lips trembling. "You! …So you knew who I was all this time! That's why you chose to marry me, huh? You wanted to finish whatever your dad started!" Her voice cracked, cutting through the tense air like a whip.
Ben froze, confusion clouding his expression. His mind raced, caught between disbelief and instinctive defensiveness. He had spent twenty-five years building his life in a different city. He hadn't known.
"I know nothing of what you're accusing me of," he said, his voice steady but quiet, carrying a note of sorrow.
Ella's defenses cracked, and she felt compelled to speak, to spill the years of memory and pain that had haunted her since she was fifteen. She explained, every detail raw and vivid, reliving the betrayal that had shattered her family's life a decade ago.
Ben listened, every word etching itself into his thoughts. He felt the sting of injustice, the weight of his father's shadow, but he did not flinch. Deep down, he understood the darkness his father could cast. Yet, he assured her with quiet conviction: he had known nothing of his father's dealings, and if he had, he would never have chosen her.
A vulnerable weakness flickered in him for a heartbeat; sadness, regret, and guilt which was hidden behind the familiar mask of control.
"Freshen up and let's have dinner," he said calmly
Ella joined him later, moving quietly across the room. Dinner was calm, almost peaceful, a stark contrast to the emotional tempest that had consumed her day. She ate in silence, tasting the food but letting her mind drift, trying to ground herself.
Ben watched her quietly, noting every movement; the way she picked at her food, the shadow in her eyes, the faint tremble in her hands.
"Why is he showing he cares?" Ella asked herself silently, heart still wary but slowly catching glimpses of something unexpected in his gaze.
"S… So, what are you planning to do?" Ben asked finally, voice cautious, unsure, as if testing the waters between them.
"Nothing. My reward after all this contract marriage is enough for me," she replied steadily, her voice soft but resolute, eyes downcast.
She had no plans beyond this moment. All she wanted was to reclaim herself, to breathe, to feel free from the weight of fear and manipulation.
Ben said nothing, returning to his meal, but the quiet between them was no longer empty. It hummed with unspoken understanding, a fragile peace born from honesty and raw emotion.