Page 61 of The Defiant Wife

You don't spend years being treated like an obligation without eventually understanding your place in someone's life.Yet hearing him say it aloud still hurts.Hearing him discuss my skin like it was humiliating . . . in front of strangers.Hearing him discuss my marriage prospects.Hearing him discuss me.As though I wasn't sitting right there.As though I were a business problem.

A liability.

The word echoes through my head.

Again.

And again.

And again.

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes.Hard. Trying to make it stop.Trying to make everything stop.The worst part isn't even what he said—it's that none of it surprised me.

That's the part that breaks my heart. Not the words. The familiarity of them.

The fact that I sat there listening because I've heard versions of those sentences my entire life.

Such a pretty girl. It's unfortunate.You would be perfect if not for . . . Who will marry her?We should be realistic.

Realistic.

I hate that word.

People always hide cruelty behind it.As though honesty gives them permission to be unkind.Another tear slips down my cheek.

I wipe it away angrily. Then another follows. And another. Until eventually I stop trying.Because clearly my dignity abandoned me hours ago.My gaze drifts toward the large mirror across the room.I can still remember being a teenager and standing in front of mirrors for hours.

Searching.

Examining.

Comparing.

Wondering which version of me people would have loved more.The one before.Or the one after.I don't do that anymore.

Not really.

I've learned to love myself.Or at least most of myself.Most days.But some wounds never completely disappear.Some days they simply hurt less.Today is not one of those days.

I close my eyes. Immediately regretting it. Because the meeting replays behind my eyelids. My father talking about my reputation. My mother sitting there unfazed. Silent. The room growing smaller. The embarrassment. The humiliation. The feeling of wanting to disappear. Then—Him.

My eyes open.I stare at the ceiling.Annoyed.Because somehow he keeps appearing in my thoughts.

I don't understand him. I genuinely don't. Nothing about him makes sense. The logical part of my brain keeps trying to solve him like some complicated equation.Every time I thinkI've figured him out, he does something ridiculous. Something unexpected. Something that doesn't fit. Like today.

I laugh weakly.Because honestly?What in the world was that?

I will marry her.

The sentence echoes in my head.

Calm.

Steady.

Certain.

As though proposing marriage to someone you've spent two weeks arguing with is perfectly normal behavior.