like poison. "What more do you want from me, Mark?" I ask

t of me, his shadow swallowing me whole. "I told you. You're a substitute. My m

im, unable to process the words.

l cook my dinner. You'll clean my home. You'll do my laundry. You'll do whatever I ask, whenever I ask.

. To be reduced to this, in the very home he was supposed to share with my s

caping before I could sto

torney. I will tell him about your father's drunken argument with Emily at the restaurant an hour before the crash. I will tell him how your father swore

is cage so perfectly, using my love and my guilt as the bars. Every time I

bbed, the fight complet

touch surprisingly gentle, which only made it worse. "That's a g

ed around my waist. The apron felt like a costume for the most degrading role of my l

in this very kitchen with Emily, years ago, when it was still just an a

"Big enough for family dinners. For holidays. For you to come over and bak

ing for the man who was tormenting me in her name

e ate in complete silence while scrolling through his phon

sink, washing the dishes, I heard his phone ring on the li

ife in my gut. He walked back into the living room, continuing his conversation, completely oblivi

on the couch. "It was... adequate." He paused. "

. I wanted to throw the plate against the wall and watch it shatter into a

a long time. I finished the dishes and

id, his voice

g myself for the next c

ce. "Do you remember the story I used to tell

d to tell him. A fairy tale about a lonely king who

"He kept it in a golden cage, gave it the finest seeds, the purest

opped singing. It grew weak and pale. The king couldn't understand why. He had

broken and bloody, trying to get to the sky. And the king finally understood. The bird didn't want a golden cage. It wanted

ongbird," he whispered, his voice raw with a pain that seemed almost real. "A

I have you. A new bird. But this time," he said, his voice turning cold and hard

And I knew, with a certainty that chilled me t