Elias jolted as if electrocuted. He desperately grabbed my sleeve, trying to explain.
"Rosalind, listen—I mean it! I've really fallen in love with you! These three years... You've become the air I breathe."
I didn't even flinch. Truth or lies? His love felt like chains now—a load on my back I never wanted.
Without hesitation, I slammed the door shut.
After my mother cut him from the family, we'd reset the electronic lock. Outside, sharp, angry beeps sounded before silence swallowed everything.
He lingered like a shadow before finally slinking away like a beaten dog.
Yet after that day, Elias became a permanent fixture at my doorstep.
Sometimes he'd stand there for hours. Other times, he'd leave behind the very gifts I'd pleaded for during our marriage—luxuries he'd always refused me
