The morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of my modest apartment, casting soft rays on the hardwood floors. Everything was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city waking up outside. I took a deep breath, savoring the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, a simple pleasure I hadn’t truly appreciated in years.
Life with Donovan had been grand, opulent even, but it was also suffocating. I was an accessory in his world, polished and placed perfectly, but never allowed to truly shine. He thought he knew me, believed he had me all figured out. But that was his mistake – underestimating the power of silence, the strength found in stillness.
Sipping my coffee, I reflected on the journey that had led me here. When I first married Donovan, I was swept away by the allure of his lifestyle, the promises of a future filled with luxury. But as time wore on, the reality of my gilded cage became clear. I was more than his wife; I was Naomi Bennett, a woman with skills, ambitions, and dreams of her own.
