Amara's gaze drifted slightly, unfocused, as their voices began to overlap, Julian's anger rising, Sebastian's calm turning sharper, words clashing, egos colliding.
She could hear them. But she wasn't really listening anymore. Because suddenly, everything felt… clear.
Not the situation, no, that was still a mess. A painful, tangled mess of past and present and consequences she couldn't undo. But herself.
For so long, she had lived through other people's expectations.
First, her father's perfect daughter, always composed, always obedient, always enough to make him proud.
Then Sebastian… where she had poured herself into being everything he wanted, mistaking intensity for love, devotion for permanence.
And then Julian. The perfect man. The man who had given her a kind of love that felt safe. Steady. Real. So she tried to be the perfect wife for him, too. Tried to give him everything.
