For the first time since their marriage, neither of them slipped into the shadows of the night.
Daniel didn't disappear into his hidden world, and Linda didn't sneak away to the library.
The house was silent, cloaked in the soft glow of moonlight that streamed through the window. Linda had curled herself on the edge of the bed as always, expecting him to walk away, but instead Daniel quietly stepped closer. Without a word, he wrapped his strong arms around her waist and pulled her into his chest.
For a fleeting moment, she didn't resist. His warmth surrounded her, and against all odds, her heart fluttered in confusion. She felt his steady heartbeat, heard the low exhale of his breath brushing her neck, and for once, there was no fight—only a fragile peace.
Sleep came easier that night, wrapped in a silence that felt almost too unreal to be true.
But the morning did not share the same softness.
When sunlight spilled into the room, Linda woke with a strange hope in her chest. She turned to him, her eyes searching his. "Daniel… last night, you were different. You don't have to be the man the village expects. We can change things—start small. Women don't have to be silent forever."
Her voice was steady, her conviction stronger than her timid tone.
But Daniel's expression darkened instantly. He sat up, his jaw clenched. "Change? Do you think one night erases the rules of the world we live in?"
Linda blinked, taken aback. "But you—"
"I was merciful," he cut her off, his tone sharp, cold. "Don't mistake my silence for weakness, Linda. You should know your place. Speak of revolution again, and I'll make sure you learn it."
His words struck her harder than any slap could. The warmth of the night crumbled into ashes at dawn.
-----
The breakfast table was heavy with silence, only the scrape of spoons against plates filling the room. Linda's mind still replayed Daniel's cutting words from earlier, while Daniel kept his gaze fixed on his food, pretending she wasn't there.
Just then, the heavy knock on the door startled them both. Two village leaders stepped in, their presence commanding and suffocating. They bowed slightly to Daniel, ignoring Linda as if she were furniture.
"Sir," one of them began, "the people are restless. Someone has been prowling the streets at night… a thief, they say. Seen lurking near the library. Wearing a red cloak."
Linda's spoon slipped. She choked on her food, coughing violently as her chest tightened. Her mind raced — they think it's a thief. They don't know it's me.
For a fraction of a second, both the men and Daniel looked at her. Suspicion flickered across Daniel's eyes, though his face remained unreadable. The men dismissed her quickly and continued their report, but the air was thick now, charged.
As they prepared to leave, one of the elders' eyes fell on the table. His expression hardened.
"Husband and wife eating together?" he scoffed. "This is not our way. A wife must serve and eat after her husband. Do you not teach her?"
Linda's revolutionary instincts ignited like dry straw. Before she could think, words burst out of her mouth.
"Why should I eat after him? I am a human being, not a servant! If he can eat, so can I."
The room froze. The villagers' faces darkened with outrage, their fists curling at her audacity. One of them snarled, "Insolent woman—"
"Enough." Daniel's voice cut through like steel. He didn't raise it, but it carried finality. He stood, his jaw tight, and turned to Linda with cold command.
"Go to your room."
Linda's lips parted, her protest trembling at the edge of her tongue, but his piercing gaze stopped her. It wasn't the fury of a husband scolding a wife — it was the unspoken plea of a man trying to shield her from the wrath of others while keeping his mask intact.
With burning cheeks, Linda stood and left, her footsteps echoing her humiliation. Behind her, the villagers muttered about discipline and proper order. Daniel only folded his arms and listened, his silence neither agreeing nor disagreeing — a dangerous balance he alone knew how to play.
----
The house was drowned in silence after the villagers left. Their words still clung to the walls like smoke after a fire. Linda sat in her room, hands trembling against her lap. Her jaw ached from clenching so hard, and her chest burned with unspoken rage. The nerve of those men—to decide when she should eat, to treat her as though she were not a person but a shadow of her husband.
Her rebellious spirit, the very fire that had been buried beneath years of quiet obedience to her parents and this marriage, was sparking uncontrollably now. "Eat after your husband," she muttered bitterly, pacing the room. "Am I not human enough to be hungry? Am I a servant? Or a pet?"
The door creaked open. Daniel stepped inside, his tall frame blocking the light from the hallway. He closed the door quietly, but the weight of his presence was enough to make the air feel heavy. His eyes, sharp as steel, fell on her.
"Why couldn't you just keep quiet, Linda?" His voice was low, but the strain in it was unmistakable.
She spun to him, fists clenched. "Keep quiet? You expect me to bow my head and pretend I am less than you? Less than them?" Her voice cracked, her passion spilling out uncontrolled. "Daniel, I will not pretend as if I am invisible."
His jaw tightened. He took a step forward, then another, until he was only a breath away. "You think your words are harmless, but they are fire, Linda. Fire burns, and it spreads. Do you want the whole village to see you as a curse to me? Do you want them to think I cannot keep my wife in her place?"
Her eyes glistened with tears she refused to let fall. "Maybe you are afraid because deep down, you know I am right."
Daniel froze, the words cutting deeper than any blade. His pride roared against the sting of truth, but guilt gnawed at him silently. He hated the way her eyes seemed to pierce through his armor, to touch the part of him that still felt human.
He turned his back abruptly, raking a hand through his hair. "You don't understand, Linda. This world doesn't bend for people like you. You'll only end up broken."
"i don't care if i break ! ," she shot back, her voice trembling, ". But know this, Daniel—I won't go quietly."
The silence that followed was unbearable. Daniel's shoulders rose and fell, each breath sounding heavier than the last. Without another word, he strode to the door and slammed it behind him. The sound reverberated through the room, leaving Linda standing in its echo, her body shaking not from fear, but from the wild mix of defiance and sorrow twisting inside her chest.
Daniel lingered a moment, watching her shoulders shake though she tried to hide it. His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach for her—but pride held him back. With a sharp breath, he turned and left the room, the slam of the door echoing through the house like a final judgment.
Linda sank onto the edge of the bed, her body trembling. "I thought… I thought last night meant something," she whispered to the empty room. Her vision blurred with tears, but her jaw set in determination. "If he won't listen, then I'll make the world listen. I will not bow."
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