Eleven

Aria’s POV

Ethan sat beside me quietly, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his arm through the thin fabric of my sleeve. He didn’t rush me, didn’t ask questions right away. He just reached out, wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and gently pulled me against his chest as if he already knew I was barely holding myself together and that all I needed was a hug.

For a second, I resisted.

I wasn’t used to being comforted anymore. Not without conditions. Not without it later being used against me.

But my strength gave out before my pride did.

“Don’t tear up because of him,” Ethan said softly, his voice calm and soft. “He doesn’t deserve any of your tears.”

I tried to respond, but my throat tightened. Instead, a shaky sniff escaped me, it was embarrassing and uncontrollable. I hated that sound. It made me feel weak, exposed. Like I was exposing my weakness in front of someone who hadn’t even known me that long.

Ethan didn’t comment on it. He just tightened his arm slightly, a silent reassurance.

“Now,” he continued gently, “tell me the whole story.”

I stayed quiet for a while, my face buried against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was comforting in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.

After a few seconds that felt like minutes, I pulled back and sat up straight. My hands trembled slightly as I clasped them together on my lap. I stared at the floor, because looking at him felt too intimate, too vulnerable for me.

“Lucien and I have been married for two years,” I began, saying it out loud made it real again

“We met when I was desperately looking for a job,” I continued. “I was young, broke, scared and he showed up at the right time. He offered to help me, no conditions attached or at least that’s what I thought. One conversation turned into another. Then coffee. Then calls. Slowly, he became my friend.”

I swallowed.

“And then...somehow he became my everything.”

I finally looked up at Ethan. His expression didn’t change much, but there was something in his eyes, something like pity.

I hated it. It annoyed me more than anything would have. I didn’t want to be looked at like I was broken. But it was Ethan, not some stranger, and somehow that made it bearable.

I frowned inwardly. Why does he already look like that? I’ve barely started.

I shook the thought away and forced myself to keep going.

“We dated for three months,” I said. “Just three. And then he proposed. No long planning, no hesitation. It was sudden and overwhelming. I thought...maybe that’s what love feels like when it’s real.”

A humorless smile tugged at my lips.

“We got married a week after I said yes.”

Ethan stayed silent, letting me speak.

“Our marriage started beautifully,” I said. “Or at least...I thought it did. Looking back now, I think it was only good for a month. Just one month. Because after that, even a single day felt like a year.”

My voice cracked slightly, but I pushed through it.

“He started changing. Slowly at first. He’d yell at me sometimes, then apologize. Then the apologies stopped. He stopped eating the food I cooked--said it wasn’t good enough, or that I didn’t try hard enough. He started coming home late at night, reeking of alcohol or perfume that wasn’t mine.”

I paused, my chest tightening hurtfully.

“He compared me to his friend’s wife constantly. Told me how elegant she was, how she knew how to behave, how she understood her place. Then he forbade me from working. Told me a ‘proper wife’ stayed at home and when I asked why, he said my job embarrassed him.”

A bitter laugh escaped me.

“Funny how I tolerated all of it.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“He became aggressive,” I whispered. “Not physically. Sometimes it was his words. Sometimes it was his silence. Anytime I complained, anytime I tried to defend myself, he’d twist everything until it was my fault. He manipulated every situation so well that I’d end up apologizing for things I never did.”

My vision blurred.

“And I did apologize,” I continued, my voice shaking now. “Over and over again. Sometimes I even asked his friends to beg him for me. Imagine that. Begging for forgiveness… for sins I didn’t commit.”

The tears came then uncontrollably, rolling down my cheeks faster than I could wipe them away.

“I was so stupid,” I whispered. “So stupid.”

Ethan moved closer, but I kept talking, afraid that if I stopped, I’d completely fall apart.

“And in the end, he cheated,” I said. “Not just with his secretary. I know it wasn’t just her. I know there were others. I felt it then just couldn't confront him until I watched the video of him having sex with his secretary.”

Narrating it all out loud felt like ripping open an old wound but at the same time, it felt like letting poison drain from my body.

I broke into tears.

Ethan didn’t wait for me to finish before pulling me into his arms. He hugged me tightly, securely, one hand cradling the back of my head.

“Come here,” he murmured.

I collapsed against him, my body shaking as sobs finally escaped me freely. I cried for what felt like forever, maybe ten minutes, maybe more. I cried for the girl I used to be. For the love I thought was real. For the years I lost trying to fix a man who was never broken, a man who was just cruel, I cried for hurting myself.

Ethan whispered to me the entire time.

“Tears don’t make you weak, let it out.”

“You survived it and you're free now.”

“And you’re stronger than you know.”

When my sobs finally slowed, he spoke again, his voice firm but kind.

“Like I said, he doesn’t deserve your tears. He’s not even worth them. I don’t know you fully yet, Aria, but I know this, you’re stronger than this. And you’re too beautiful, inside and out, for a man like him.”

I didn’t lift my head.

I just stayed there, letting myself feel safe for the first time after leaving Lucien.