Bound By His Child

Jane's POV.

The door opened and I opened my eyes. For a brief second, I didn't know where I was. The room felt unfamiliar, my body heavy, my neck stiff from sleeping at the wrong angle. Then reality settled in slowly, like dust after a fall. I had fallen asleep on the couch again.

I closed my eyes briefly, swallowing the familiar wave of disappointment. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep here again, even after promising myself again that I wouldn't wait up for him anymore. That I would go to bed like a normal wife and stop clinging to hope that never showed up. But hope had always been my weakness.

He walked in without hesitation, without pause, his presence commanding the space without acknowledging it. His footsteps were measured, confident, like a man who knew exactly where he was going and had no reason to look around. No reason to look at me.

"Welcome," I greeted softly, my voice rough from sleep.

He didn't respond, not even a nod, nor even a glance.

He walked past me like I was part of the furniture, like I was something fixed and unmoving in his world, and strode straight into the bathroom. The door closed behind him with a soft, almost polite click. But that sound echoed louder in my chest than it should have.

I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding and sank deeper into the couch, my shoulders curling inward as if trying to make myself smaller. My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. I knew better than this, I knew better than to expect anything. And yet, it still hurt every single time.

I wiped my face quickly, as if he might suddenly come back out and catch me in my weakness. Not that it mattered, he never looked at me long enough to notice anything-my tears, my silence, my existence.

The house felt too large in moments like this, too quiet. Every sound carried weight-the hum of the air conditioner, the ticking of the wall clock, the faint echo of running water beginning in the bathroom.

We were never supposed to be married. The thought drifted through my mind like a refrain I could never silence. We were never supposed to be married, but we did anyway. A marriage born not from love, or even convenience, but desperation.

After my father's sudden death, everything fell apart so quickly I barely had time to grieve. One moment, he was there, strong, stubborn, full of plans for the future. The next, he was gone, leaving behind a company held together by trust and goodwill. A trust my brother shattered within months.

The company my father spent his entire life building was handed over to someone who didn't understand restraint. Decisions were made too fast, risks taken too boldly. One bad investment led to another, loans taken to cover existing losses, promises made that couldn't be kept. Until one day, the