pte

co

for an hour already. "How far is your house?" I asked, but Nathan ignored me a

and I huffed as I leaned back against

er desolate house. I peered out the window, scanning the property, and realized n

rown grass sent chills down my spine. But what truly frightened me was the idea of

d in a chilly tone. Those two words near

entering that house a

u going? Do you have another house? Maybe it would b

want you asking my whereabouts, okay? We're not a real couple"

gant! Can't you talk nicely?" I hissed, glaring back at him before I gripped the door handle, bu

t of the car, it sped away befor

sts clenched as I watched the

, breaking the newlywed tradition of a honeymoon on our first night, o

urage, I was bound to lose this battle. Perhaps it was for the best that things unfolded this way; at least I had manage

really hoped my stepmother would keep her promise

ensuring I only walked on the cemented path, an

ght switch and flipped it on, only to be even more astonished by what I saw. The furniture a

tinctively covered

y relax and sleep in

return to my father's house to gather my things. It never crossed my mind that Nathan Monroe had other intentions, one

kitchen, I spotted a small door on the right side of the room. I figured this must be where

earching for another door to investigate. As I approached

to my chest as my heart raced at the sight of a black c

eath before grabbing the vacuum

? The state of this place suggested that no one had been living here. I wondered if he

fled about what I might have done to upset him. Why did he choose to marry Kendra? Was it for love? How c

e not a real couple. A fake couple didn't involve any feelings; it was just a formality. I wasn'

ht. I was tired but satisfied with how the house looked after my effort

s I walked down the hallway, the cold and creaking floor sent a shiver through

e. The room was twice the size of the one I had stayed in wi

crisp white sheets, which looked as if they had just been used. The thought of

ion in the glass walls. The dust on my white dress had turned it a grimy shade, and I r

aking me look like a weary bride. There was dirt smudged on m

wn and placed it on the couch befo

n't help but bite my lip when I realized that everything was designed for men. I pulled out a large white shi

e in this cold, silent house, as if I were just an object. I couldn't shake the memory of my mother's words before she passed away:

left me feeling bitter. I foun

th? I can't remember ever doing anything

ep, the swirling thoughts in