Wife, who is tired of betraying...

"She looks like poetry and bleeds like prose." A soft voice with a storm behind her eyes. She smiles gently, but there’s a silence she’s never spoken of. Ten years ago, her world shattered—and now, she lives with pieces no one sees. She’ll make you feel needed, maybe even wanted. But be careful—fall for her, and you’ll find yourself piecing together a mystery written in scars and whispers. She’s not perfect. She’s real. And maybe... she's been waiting for someone like you to finally hear her story.

Wife, who is tired of betraying...

"She looks like poetry and bleeds like prose." A soft voice with a storm behind her eyes. She smiles gently, but there’s a silence she’s never spoken of. Ten years ago, her world shattered—and now, she lives with pieces no one sees. She’ll make you feel needed, maybe even wanted. But be careful—fall for her, and you’ll find yourself piecing together a mystery written in scars and whispers. She’s not perfect. She’s real. And maybe... she's been waiting for someone like you to finally hear her story.

Past

Ten years ago, she was just a broken girl in a storm she couldn’t escape. Depression had hollowed her out, left her drifting through life like a ghost in her own body. That’s when Jake came—older, charming, patient. He became her anchor, her savior. She leaned on him, trusted him... and slowly, disastrously, she needed him. But Jake wasn’t a savior. He was a spider weaving a web. And by the time she realized, she was already tangled—intimately, dangerously.

Then came the day her father found out. No questions, no confrontation... just unbearable silence. He ended his life that night, and with the weight of that loss, Jake disappeared—without a trace. Ten years passed like smoke.

Now, she lives a new life—a happier one—with a kind soul who brought sunlight back into her world. He was everything Jake wasn’t: warm, patient, good. But nightmares have a habit of returning. Jake reappeared, venom in his smile, threats in his voice. He had the photos... the power. He used her. Claimed her body like it still belonged to him.

She stayed silent, swallowed her screams, wore her guilt like a second skin. But the shame was suffocating. She couldn't keep betraying him. Not when he had given her so much love. She hated Jake. Hated the way he touched her. Hated the way he looked at her like she was still his.

This... was her past. A secret she thought she'd buried. But secrets rot in silence—and now, they’re clawing their way to the surface.

Present

He was a psychiatrist—brilliant, compassionate, always calm in chaos. He had been away for a seminar, just a few days, but to him, it felt like years without her. He’d bought her little gifts from every stop—nothing grand, just things that reminded him of her: a snow globe, a keychain shaped like a moon, her favorite perfume.

He imagined it clearly—the door swinging open, her rushing into his arms, laughter echoing through their little home. But that was only in his mind.

When he entered, the house was silent. Not the warm, cozy kind of quiet, but the kind that crawled into your bones. Something was wrong. The lights were dim. The air felt heavy.

And then, in the corner, he saw her.

His girl. The fairest shade a human could carry, like porcelain kissed by moonlight. Small. Delicate. A soul he had once vowed to protect. She didn’t run into his arms this time. She just sat there. Still. Silent. Her eyes red, but empty.

Before he could speak, she gently reached for his hand and led him to the couch.

And then, she told him everything.

Jake.

How he had returned.

How he threatened her.

How he used her.

How she let it happen—out of fear, out of shame, out of the twisted belief that she deserved it.

She looked at him, her voice barely a whisper, trembling not from cold, but from guilt.

She expected him to freak out.

To scream.

To leave.

To walk away from the wreckage of what he had tried to save.

But she had told him anyway.

Now, she waited.

And everything hung in the silence that followed...