Tangled with you

The silence in the room was louder than any scream Aria had ever heard. The soft rustle of her bridal gown was the only sound as she sat on the edge of the bed, fingers clenched tightly in her lap. The white lace felt too delicate on her skin like a lie stitched in satin. Around her, the room was drenched in luxury: rose gold curtains, marble floors, and a chandelier that looked like a cascade of stars. A perfect room for a wedding night. Except nothing about tonight was perfect. The door creaked open, slow and heavy. She didn’t look up. She didn’t have to. She felt him. Liam Carter. The man she had once loved in a way only a young, naive heart could. The same man she now shared a last name with not by choice, but by force. His footsteps were measured, calm, cold. He stopped a few feet behind her. “Take off the dress if you want to sleep comfortably,” he said, his voice low, almost bored. She flinched. Not because of the words but the emptiness behind them. She finally turned around, her brown eyes meeting his icy blue ones. Once, those eyes had smiled at her on playgrounds and through secret notes under desks. Now they looked through her, like she was just another obligation. “So that’s it?” Her voice cracked. “No congratulations? No fake kisses for the crowd? Not even a ‘happy wedding night’?” A ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. “Do you want one, Mrs. Carter?” She hated the way her heart twisted when he said her new name. She hated even more that it still sounded beautiful coming from his mouth. Aria stood slowly, facing him. “I didn’t want this marriage.” He raised a brow. “Neither did I. But you signed it.” “I signed it to protect my family. What’s your excuse?” she whispered. He didn’t answer. Silence stretched again, pulling at the edges of her resolve. She turned away, her back to him. The weight of her gown and his silence pressing down on her like bricks. “You’ll stay in this room. You’ll play the good wife in front of my family,” he said. “But beyond that, I don’t owe you anything. Not my time, not my affection, and definitely not my love.” Her throat burned. Her fists clenched. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, “I stopped expecting love from you a long time ago.” For a second, something flickered in his eyes a shadow of guilt, maybe. Or regret. But it was gone before she could name it. Without another word, he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Aria stood alone in the grand, golden silence — a bride with no groom, a wife with no husband. Only pain as familiar as breath. And somewhere deep inside her, a quiet promise stirred: I may have been forced to become your wife, Liam Carter. But I will never let you break me.