Daniel's voice dropped, edged with disbelief.
"A book, huh? And what makes you think these women will even read it? Most of them can't even write their own names. They wouldn't understand a word."
"They don't need to read," she countered firmly. "They can listen. I'll read it to them. I'll tell them why education matters. I'll make them understand."
He stared at me for a long moment. The fire in her voice was undeniable, unshakable. And though he wouldn't say it aloud, she could see it—he was wavering.
Still, his pride fought back. "Alright. Let's say you somehow convince a few women. Say they start listening, thinking for themselves. What then? Do you think the men in power will just watch? They'll crush you. They'll lock you up."
"They'll try," she admitted. "But I'll still stand. Because once an idea sparks, you can't kill it. Once women hear the truth, they'll never forget it. Even if they laugh at first, even if they resist… slowly, they'll begin to think. And at the end of the day, they'll rise."
Daniel exhaled, a mix of frustration and something else—something dangerously close to admiration.
"You're insane, Linda. You're fighting against the very foundation of this society. Do you really think you can win?"
"Yes," she whispered. Her voice didn't shake. "Because change doesn't start with everyone. It starts with one. And I am that one."
Finally, he muttered, "Your vision is clear. I'll give you that. You want men and women to be equals in everything—in work, in life. But that's not realistic. Some jobs belong to men, some to women. That's just nature."
She held his gaze. "Nature doesn't decide. People do. And I will fight until we rewrite that choice."
The silence between them stretched, thick and suffocating. I thought I saw the faintest flicker of hesitation in Daniel's eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. His lips curved into a sharp smirk.
"Bold words, Linda. But words don't change the world. You don't scare me with speeches."
She clenched her fists,"Then maybe it's action you need to see. Because I won't just sit quietly in the corner while men like you dictate who I'm supposed to be."
His smirk faltered, just slightly. "And what exactly will you do? Lecture the village until they're bored to death? Or write a book no one will read?"
That stung, sharper than she expected. But she forced herself to stand taller.
"I'll keep speaking until someone listens. Even if it's one person at a time. Even if it takes my whole life."
Daniel's jaw tightened. His calm was slipping, and that thrilled me more than it should have.
"You're impossible," he growled. "Always pushing, always fighting. Do you ever stop?"
She met his glare with fire of my own.
"Do you ever stop doubting? Maybe the real problem is you're afraid of me winning."
For a second, he froze. The words seemed to hit deeper than intended. His gaze darkened, not with anger but something else she couldn't name. Something dangerous.
He stepped closer, voice low. "Careful, wife. You're playing with fire."
She didn't back down.
"Good. Let it burn. And you know what I'm done for now I'm going to sleep"
He hissed in annoyance,"You love breaking law , don't you ?"
"I don't care about their law." My voice trembled, but not with fear—with defiance. "They didn't marry you. I did. And I will not be forced into anything because a village of men says it should be so."
For a moment, our breaths clashed in the narrow space between us, his anger sparking against my defiance like flint against steel. Then, with a growl of frustration, he turned away, dragging a hand through his hair.
"Fine," he spat, stepping closer until the scent of her shampoo lingered between them. Her breath hitched—just for a second—and the reaction gave him a cruel sense of satisfaction. A smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned down, his words brushing against her ear like venom.
"Sleep on your throne, revolutionary queen. But tonight, your throne belongs to the floor."
I clenched my jaw, forcing my expression into calm defiance. Without a second thought, I grabbed a pillow and a bedsheet, yanking them off the bed. With deliberate finality, I tossed them onto the cold floor and lay down, my back turned sharply toward him.
"I don't need your bed," I hissed, my voice cutting through the silence. "Keep it for yourself."
-------
PLEASE SUPPORT,
WITH DETERMINATION,
LINDA MARTIN.
WITH DOMINATION,
DANIEL ARSLAN.