The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains like an intruder, sharp and unwelcome. I woke with a start, my body aching from a night spent twisting in sheets that smelled of unfamiliar detergent, crisp, sterile, nothing like home. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Then it all crashed back: the vows, the cold eyes, the house that felt more like a mausoleum than a sanctuary. I sat up, rubbing my temples. My wedding dress lay crumpled on the floor where I'd peeled it off in the dark, a ghostly reminder of yesterday's farce. I hadn't unpacked yet; my suitcases stood sentinel by the door, as if they too were unsure about staying. The room was elegant, high ceilings, antique furniture, a four-poster bed that swallowed me whole, but it was empty. No personal touches. No photos on the walls. Just echoes.Downstairs, the silence was thicker. I padded barefoot through the hallway, the marble floor cold against my skin, sending shivers up my legs. I needed coffee, or tea, or somet
Last Updated : 2026-01-18 Read more