The car came to a stop at the entrance of the mansion. I exhaled deeply, stepping out into the cool evening air. My body ached from the exhaustion of pretending—pretending that Heinrich and I were a normal couple, pretending that I was fine with him, pretending that I didn’t feel like I was suffocating in this life that had been forced upon me. The ride home had been filled with meaningless small talk, forced smiles, and the unbearable tension that neither of us cared enough to break.
I stretched my stiff limbs, desperate to shake off the lingering discomfort, then turned toward the grand staircase leading into the house. Heinrich followed a few steps behind, silent as a shadow. We both knew there was nothing to say. Nothing that would make any of this easier.