A Cage Made of Love

The moment I opened my eyes, I was lying on a soft but cheap bed.

The air was thick with the smell of... instant noodles.

A fuzzy little head leaned in close, and a pair of eyes that looked exactly like my first love Ethan Shaw's studied me with curiosity.

"Mommy, you're awake! If you'd slept any longer, Daddy was gonna throw out all my superhero cards."

I sat bolt upright and looked around.

A cramped bedroom. Clothes everywhere. Superhero posters on the wall. And a huge wedding portrait.

The man beaming in the photo was Ethan Shaw.

And the woman beside him, grinning like an idiot in a cheap wedding dress, was me.

I rushed to the bathroom. The woman in the mirror had sallow skin, deep dark circles under her eyes, and hair that looked like a bird's nest.

It was still my face, but the skin, the energy... it was a world apart from the me I knew.

Me, Vivian Quinn, a woman whose eye cream alone cost over a thousand dollars a bottle, reduced to this haggard mess?

This was worse than death.

"Viv, are you okay? Does your head still hurt?"

Ethan walked in wearing a ridiculous pink apron, carrying a bowl of noodles, worry written all over his face.

I looked at him, then down at the noodles in his hands.

"What is this?"

"Your favorite! Deluxe seafood instant noodles. I even added two eggs and a hot dog." He was practically begging for praise.

I nearly blacked out.

In my real world, my breakfast was a custom meal prepared by a three-star Michelin chef, calibrated down to the calorie.

And now my "husband" was handing me a bowl of instant noodles with two eggs, calling it "deluxe."

What fresh hell was this?

I pushed him away and stumbled toward the door, shouting, "This isn't real! I need to go back! I need my penthouse, my lawyer, my assistant!"

Ethan grabbed me from behind and held on tight, his voice urgent. "Viv, calm down! You don't have a penthouse, a lawyer, or an assistant. You're just a regular housewife!"

The more he said it, the harder I fought.

A regular housewife? Give me a break!

Ethan dragged me back and pressed me down onto the couch.

He pulled out a family photo album and turned the pages one by one.

"Look, this was our graduation trip. You said you'd never marry anyone but me."

"This was our wedding. It was simple, but you said you were so happy."

"And this was when Jamie was born. You were holding him, crying even louder than he was."

The me in those photos was smiling so genuinely, so happily.

The kind of smile I hadn't worn once in ten years on Wall Street.

Something inside me wavered.

Could it be? Was I really sick? Had I imagined that I was some high-powered CEO?

Jamie Shaw, the little guy, wrapped himself around my leg and asked timidly, "Mommy, don't you want me anymore?"

I looked at that little face, so much like Ethan's, and something deep inside me ached.

Before I knew it, I was shaking my head.

"No. Mommy would never leave you."

In that moment, I decided to accept this absurd reality. For now.

Maybe it was just a dream that felt too real.

The first step in accepting this reality was learning how to be a mom.

Ethan said he had to go teach at the university. Before he left, he reminded me a dozen times to drop Jamie off at preschool.

Me, a woman who could close multimillion-dollar deals without breaking a sweat, completely defeated by the task of dressing a five-year-old.

"Mommy, you put my socks on inside out."

"Mommy, why is your lipstick in my backpack?"

I was a complete mess, fumbling through every step.

By the time I finally got Jamie onto the school bus, I was as exhausted as if I'd just survived an eight-hour funding negotiation.

On my way back inside, a neighbor stopped me.

"Your husband's really something, dear. A college professor, and he still managed to get you a house like this."

I glanced at the townhouse, twenty-one hundred square feet at most, then back at the genuine envy on her face.

I was lost in thought.

A professor's salary could cover a townhouse in this neighborhood?

Were prices in this world really that affordable?