Leila
His fingers stilled. For a moment, he said nothing. Then he smiled, a slow, knowing smile.
I stood by the window, my reflection a ghost in the polished glass, my dress cinched too tight at the waist, as if he'd chosen it to remind me I was tethered. A perfect doll for his perfect house.
"Why do you want to go to school?" Lucas asked, his back to me as he crossed to the bar. The crystal decanter clinked against his glass, the sound sharp, deliberate. "Isn't it nice to stay at home as a full-time wife?" His voice was smooth, but it carried that edge, the one that warned me to tread carefully.
"I always wanted to learn more," I said, softening my tone, a practiced gentleness that felt like swallowing glass. "I could help you, share some of the workload. You're always so busy."
He t
