Nine years spent treading softly in a loveless relationship, humble to the point of dust.
So in his eyes, all my love amounted to nothing more than “name your price.”
I could not even bring myself to calculate what he thought it was worth.
When I lifted my eyes, I saw the condescending contempt in his gaze. In that moment, images flashed through my mind.
There was a time when I had been a girl held gently in someone’s hands.
A time when the man I loved was still alive.
My stomach had always been weak. Whenever I ate something spicy, the pain was so sharp I could not straighten my back. He would always make me a bowl of warm porridge, blowing it to the perfect temperature before feeding it to me spoon by spoon.
Whenever I acted spoiled, he would hold me in his arms, warm palms pressed to my stomach, whispering softly that the pain would go away.
When I was down, he could sit with me for an entire day, waiting patiently for one smile.
But now, I lowered my head and pushed the bracelet down my wrist bit by bit.
The sharp edge dug into my skin. A sudden sting shot up my arm. When I lifted my hand, there was already a thin line of blood.