His to Break, His to Love

I don’t remember the faces of my real parents. Just the sound of a door closing. Just the silence that followed. At five years old, I’m told I’m special. That I’ve been chosen. The Montgomerys arrive at the orphanage dressed like fairy tales....he in a tailored suit, she in pearls and perfume. They smile at me like I’m the missing piece of their perfect life. I believe them. For two years, I call them Mama and Papa. For two years, I try to be the daughter they prayed for. And for two years, I’m almost convinced they love me. Then Alessia is born. Their real daughter. From the moment she draws her first breath, I stop existing. The warmth disappears. The affection turns brittle. I go from being their miracle to their mistake. I’m still in the house—but now, I’m a guest who overstayed her welcome. They don’t hit me. No. Their cruelty is quieter than that. Colder. More precise. Forgotten birthdays. Locked doors. Whispers behind my back. A thousand tiny cuts that never quite bleed, but never heal. They don’t return me to the orphanage. That would look bad. The Montgomery name is everything. So they keep me. But not as a daughter. As a burden. As a ghost. Years pass. I learn to live in the shadows, where I can’t offend, can’t disappoint, can’t embarrass them. I become invisible. And then—suddenly—I’m not. Today, Suzan tells me I’m getting married. Just like that. No warning. No choice. Just… instructions. “To a Sinclair,” she says, sipping her tea like she’s discussing the weather. “A powerful man. You’ll behave, of course.” Of course. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know what he wants with someone like me. But I know what they want. To be rid of me. And this time, they’ve found a way to do it with a bow on top. I stare at the ring in the velvet box, cold and unfamiliar. A new beginning? Or a new cage? I guess I’m about to find out.