Shadow Of Defiance

The soft knock on the door had unsettled me. Vijay never knocked.

I sat still, my back straight, my hands resting lightly on my lap. When the door creaked open, I looked up.

He stepped in, his expression unreadable, his posture strangely relaxed. In his hand was a small, velvet box.

I felt my breath hitch. A gift.

He walked toward me and sat on the edge of the bed. Slowly, he opened the box, revealing a delicate gold bracelet.

"I got this for you," he said, his voice softer than usual. "I thought you'd like it."

I stared at the bracelet, my mind racing.

Six months ago, this would have melted me. I would have thrown my arms around him, kissed him, thanked him over and over.

But now, all I could think was: How much could I sell it for?

I reached for it, my fingers brushing the cold metal. "Thanks," I said, my voice flat.

His eyes flickered with something—surprise, maybe. But he covered it up quickly, placing the bracelet in my hand.

"You used to love things like this," he said, tilting his head, watching me closely.

I nodded, slipping it onto my wrist. "It's nice."

Silence stretched between us.

He cleared his throat. "Ivy... I know things have been hard." He shifted slightly, his knee bumping mine. "But we can fix it. We can go back to how things were in the beginning. You just have to listen, be patient. You know I love you, right?"

I turned my gaze to him then, searching for sincerity.

Love.

Was this love? Keeping me locked inside, calling me barren, treating me like a servant?

I felt nothing.

Still, I nodded. "Of course."

His lips curved into a small smile. Satisfied.

That night, I laid out my blanket on the floor like always. I felt his eyes on me.

"You don't have to sleep there," he said.

I didn't react.

"Ivy, come to bed."

I shook my head. "I'm fine here."

Silence. Then the bed creaked as he got up. My pulse quickened.

"I said come to bed," he repeated, firmer this time.

I swallowed hard. "No."

Then he was on me.

A sharp yank, his fingers digging into my arm. I gasped as he dragged me to my feet, shoving me onto the bed.

"You think you can deny me?" His voice was low, dangerous. "You're my wife."

I kicked, struggled, my nails clawing at his arms. "Vijay, stop!"

He pinned me down, his weight crushing. I turned my face, thrashing beneath him.

The sound of our struggle filled the room—bodies hitting the mattress, muffled cries, the bed frame knocking against the wall.

Then—

A loud, insistent banging on the front door.

"Vijay! Open up!"

My breath caught. That voice—

Raymond.

Vijay's grip faltered for half a second. My heart pounded.

"Vijay! I know you're in there!" The banging grew louder, more urgent.

My nails dug into his arms, my legs kicked out wildly. "Let me go!" I screamed.

But Vijay wasn't moving. He just stared at the door, breathing hard.

He wasn't going to open it.

No one was coming in.

***

Morning arrived like an unwelcome guest, heavy and suffocating. My body ached from last night, but my spirit was still intact. Vijay stirred beside me, his movements calm, routine. As if nothing had happened.

I sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees as he buttoned his shirt. He checked his reflection in the mirror, adjusted his tie, then picked up his watch from the dresser.

"You should prepare breakfast," he said without looking at me.

The old Ivy would have rushed to obey, eager to avoid another punishment. But today, I didn't flinch. I stood slowly, picked up my wrapper, and left the room without a word.

Vijay's mother and sister were already in the living room when I walked into the kitchen. Usually, I would have asked what they wanted to eat, eager to please. But today, I said nothing. I simply took out the ingredients and began cooking.

Vijay entered the dining area just as the aroma filled the air. He took a seat at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone, expecting the usual.

His mother cleared her throat. "What are you making?"

I stirred the pot, my voice calm. "Breakfast."

There was a pause. His sister shifted in her seat.

When the food was ready, I plated it without the usual deference, took the best portion, and sat at the table.

I picked up my spoon and ate.

Silence.

I could feel their eyes burning into me. Never had I served myself first. Never had I eaten before them.

Vijay finally set his phone down and looked at me. "What do you think you're doing?"

I lifted my eyes to meet his, unbothered. "Eating."

His sister scoffed. "You've become bold."

I chewed slowly. "I was always bold. You just never noticed."

Vijay's jaw tightened. "So, you're ignoring my mother and sister now?"

I didn't answer. I simply continued eating.

His mother's voice was calm but laced with suspicion. "Something has changed about you."

Vijay watched me for a long moment, his gaze dark, calculating. Then he stood up, grabbed his car keys, and walked out without another word.

His sister huffed, throwing me a glare. "We'll see how long this new attitude lasts."

I ignored her.

After breakfast, I stepped outside, needing air. I barely made it three steps before a familiar voice called my name.

"Ivy."

I turned. Raymond stood a few feet away, his expression unreadable.

He took a slow step forward. "What happened last night?"

My throat tightened. "Nothing."

His jaw clenched. "Don't lie to me. I heard you."

I exhaled. "You should go, Raymond."

"You think I can just ignore this?" His eyes searched mine. "You won't survive this place much longer."

I met his gaze, my voice firm. "I will."

Something flickered in his eyes; frustration, maybe admiration. He shook his head. "If you need help…"

"I'll ask." I turned away.

"Ivy," he called after me, his voice softer. "Just… don't wait until it's too late."

I walked back inside without looking back.

I had barely finished washing the last plate when I heard the slow, deliberate tap of footsteps behind me.

"I see you're feeling bold these days."

I turned to find Vijay's mother standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, eyes cold and calculating.

I said nothing.

She stepped closer, her gold bangles jingling as she leaned against the counter. "You think you've won something, don't you?" She scoffed. "You cook and eat before us now. You refuse my daughter. You reject my son. What exactly do you think you are doing, Ivy?"

I wiped my hands and faced her fully. "I'm existing."

Her lips twisted. "Not for long."

The words were barely above a whisper, but they sent a chill down my spine.

She smiled then—slow, knowing, full of quiet malice. "You forget, child, this is my son's house. My rules. And in my house…" She leaned in, voice dropping lower. "Disobedient wives don't last."

I held her gaze, refusing to show fear.

She straightened and smoothed her sari, giving me one last lingering look before walking away.

I released a slow

breath, my mind racing.

She was planning something.

And whatever it was, I needed to be ready.