Chapter 1 - THE APARTMENT OF SUNLIGHT
The room was quiet,
unlike the mansion I had called home for twenty-two years.
I stood in the center of the small living area,
my ivory wedding dress looking out of place against the worn wooden floor.
Ethan leaned his bicycle against the wall near the door,
the white ribbon still fluttering slightly from the breeze.
He watched me,
his dark eyes searching my face for any sign of regret or tears.
I didn't give him any,
because for the first time in a decade,
my chest didn't feel tight with anxiety.
"It has sunlight,"
I repeated,
walking toward the window that looked out over a quiet street.
The golden hour was fading,
casting long,
amber shadows across the modest furniture.
Ethan stepped closer,
his presence grounding and heavy,
yet strangely comforting.
"Most people would see the chipped paint,"
he said,
his voice a low rumble that vibrated in the small space.
"Most people would notice the lack of a chandelier,"
he added,
gesturing to the simple light fixture above us.
I turned to him,
letting the silk of my dress rustle against the floor.
"I've lived under chandeliers my whole life,"
I whispered,
"and I've never felt as warm as I do in this light."
He went still,
his expression shifting from caution to something deeper,
something intense.
"I told your father I would look after you,"
he said,
taking a step toward me.
"I didn't tell him I would give you a palace."
"I don't want a palace,
Ethan,"
I said,
reaching out to touch the rough fabric of his gray suit sleeve.
"I want a home where I don't have to apologize for existing."
He looked down at my hand,
his jaw tightening as if he were holding back a thousand words.
"You'll never have to apologize to me,
Madison,"
he promised.
The sincerity in his voice was sharper than any diamond Savannah owned.
He walked to a small kitchenette,
his movements graceful and efficient.
"You must be hungry,"
he noted,
"the wedding dinner was mostly for show."
I laughed,
a small,
genuine sound that surprised even me.
"I don't think I saw a single person actually eat,"
I recalled.
"They were too busy measuring each other's status."
Ethan pulled two simple plates from a cabinet.
"Status is a heavy burden to carry,"
he said,
"it's much easier to ride a bike."
I watched him work,
noticing the way his shoulders filled out his jacket.
He didn't look like a security guard.
He looked like a man who had mastered himself long ago.
The silence between us wasn't awkward,
it was a sanctuary.
Outside,
the city hummed,
but inside this small brick building,
the world felt brand new.
I began to unpin my veil,
letting the thin lace fall onto a chair.
"Tomorrow,"
Ethan said,
looking at me over his shoulder,
"everything changes."
"I know,"
I replied.
"But for tonight,
can we just stay here?"
He nodded,
a shadow of a smile touching his lips.
"For tonight,
Madison,"
"we are exactly where we need to be."
I sat at the small wooden table,
watching the man I had just married,
feeling the first spark of hope I had known in years.
May you like
The bicycle in the corner was a reminder of the mockery,
but the man in front of me was a promise of something more.
