I hired two people to pretend to be my parents. Paid them to attend dinners and family gatherings, to create the illusion of a respectable background. I told Damien’s family I had grown up abroad, that my family was stable and well-connected. I believed that if I maintained the lie long enough, they would eventually accept me.
And for a while, I thought they did.
But now I understood the truth. They had known all along. They allowed the lie to continue because it gave them power over me.
Because of that secret, I stayed silent.
Because of that secret, Damien married me.
And because of that secret, he believed he could control me—own me.
I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to ease the ache tightening my throat. Everything suddenly felt hollow. Every smile, every kiss, every whispered “I love you” felt like nothing more than a carefully crafted illusion.
The sound of the front door opening pulled me back to the present.
“Clara?”
Damien’s voice followed—warm, familiar, the same voice that once comforted me. I turned from the window as he walked inside, holding a bouquet of roses and a small velvet box.