Savannah's POV
The sound of Jonathan's footsteps echoed through the hallway as he paced outside my locked bedroom door. Under different circumstances, those deliberate steps might have seemed threatening, like a predator stalking its prey.
Instead, they reminded me of a lost dog whimpering outside its owner's door.
His concern offered a twisted kind of solace while simultaneously crushing me with the truth. My husband wasn't worried about me as his wife. He was terrified of losing the social standing and reputation I brought to our marriage contract.
I couldn't bring myself to part the curtains or check my phone. Tears streaked down my face as I drifted between sleep and wakefulness, completely losing track of time despite the relentless ticking from the living room clock.
How could that clock be so thunderously loud from three rooms away? Hadn't we soundproofed this entire apartment?
The noise seemed to shake the very walls with its persistent rhythm.
