The second morning in Taehyung's house was not any less desolate than the first. You woke to the innumerable chirps of birds outside, but barely did it get through the fog of your mind. The first thing to feel well enough was the weight falling upon your shoulders again.

Could you somehow wish this all away? Could you reverse time, take it all back-the wedding?. The cold indifference from the family you had once called your own, the silence between you and the man now considered your husband. You often wondered if somehow, someway you could go back to the life you knew prior to your parents making you do this-to take a different life course before it all got out of hand. Yet, every time such a question had popped into your mind, you knew the answer was still the same: no. This was your life now, and there was no escaping it.

You dragged yourself out of bed, putting on the most basic, comfortable outfit you could find. A soft sweater and jeans. You felt the familiar tug of insecurity when you looked in the mirror. The girl who used to dream, who had aspirations and hope, felt so far away. Who were you now? What had become of you?

You trudged downstairs; the house was quieter than a mouse. The staff moved around you, courtesy extended as always, smiling-strained, professional, as if they were all actors in this great play of a life you hadn't chosen. You smiled back, but it felt fake, like a mask you were putting on, just to make it through another day.

The kitchen greeted you with a usual breakfast tray-well prepared, yet you couldn't think of eating. Yet, you knew you had to. You forced a few pieces of toast; the fruit was too bitter in your mouth. You did not have an appetite anymore, not since you came here. That hollow place inside you deepened with each bite. It felt like you were just going through the motions, trying to fill the empty spaces that no meal could touch.

You sat alone at the table, staring blankly at the eggs that had never been touched, sipping at your coffee as you tried to ignore the ache in your chest. The loneliness was suffocating. This house was so huge and filled with things that it seemed endless, a labyrinth one couldn't get out of. Nobody seemed to care if you were there or not, and you couldn't tell if that made you more invisible or an intruder.

You retreated into the house, wandering from one room to another, each more unfamiliar than the last. There was undeniable beauty everywhere, but none of it masked the coldness. The rooms were pristine, but they felt like a gallery—empty and lifeless, devoid of warmth or heart.

It wasn't until you came to the sunroom that you first had a feeling of relief: soft sun bathing the room, a view out into the garden-quiet and with vibrant colors contrary to the gray inside your mind. You sat down by the window, letting the warmth of the sun on your face as you closed your eyes for a second to gather yourself.

The tiny patch of tranquility seemed a reminder that the world was still handsome, still prepared to offer even minor solace. Even that became tenuous as, in the weeks to come, your mind invariably would turn to thoughts of your parents and how you ended up here due to their machinations. The cruel things that were told to you became resounding in your ears: promises of a better tomorrow which never came about. They'd built a cage around me, and it would never be any different.

You had been raised to obey, keep your mouth shut, never question their decision. But now, standing here in this gilded cage, you questioned everything: who she was without them, what was left of the girl who dreamed of something more.

You had barely delved into your musing when the front door opened; Taehyung was back. The tension in the air was once again raised even before he had appeared at the door, and the house felt silent. You cooled your nerves.

"Back so soon?" you tried to sound calm, though the beat of your heart was fast inside your chest.

He had glanced at you briefly when he came in but had said nothing, only dropping his briefcase on the couch and removing his tie; his tired eyes avoided yours, his movements cool. You knew by now that this was how things were-distant, silent.

"Still here, huh?" He said in that flat voice of his, the inflectionless tone suggesting this was normal and you a piece of furniture to him.

You nodded, coming off the window seat and taking a hard hit of emotion within your chest. "Where else would I be?" you returned with an honest note.

Taehyung didn't say a word for a moment. He reached into the cabinet for a glass, filled it with water, and his gaze never left the bottle, as if this simple task was all that kept him tethered. It wasn't until he took a sip that he spoke again.

"You know," he started, his tone suddenly sharp, "you don't have to act like this is all fine. You don't even try to make an effort.

Your breath hitched, the words stinging like a slap across the face. "What do you mean?" you snapped, not quite fast enough to hold it back.

He set the glass down with a sharp clink and turned to face you. "I'm not asking you to be some perfect little wife," he said, cold and to the point, "but you're just... here. Barely even a presence. You don't try to make this work.

His accusation hung in the air, suffocatingly heavy. Your chest tightened when the words landed. You never wanted any of this. You didn't ask for any of it. Yet, here you were-just like him.

"It's not that simple," you muttered, stepping back, your hands trembling at your sides. "You think I want to be here? You think I chose this?"

The flicker in Taehyung's eyes was instant-something akin to resentment or regret; it was hard to decipher, but the look on his face made you only feel smaller, less significant.

"You don't understand," he muttered suddenly, in a voice low, and you couldn't catch the emotion that guarded it. "You really don't understand. None of this is what either of us wanted. But it's happening.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing. "I didn't ask for any of this, Taehyung. I didn't choose this life."

The words came out before you even realized it, and you regretted them immediately. His face hardened, his jaw clenched as if your words had struck him somewhere deeper than you'd intended.

With a quick movement, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing in the silence of the room. But this time, the silence was heavier: it was a silence filled with the unsaid things, the anger, the resentment, the confusion-things neither of you had the courage to speak aloud.

You stood there, the world feeling even colder, and let the tears slip down your cheeks.