His Heart Is My Cage

Ethan and I were both orphans. We had been clinging to each other for survival.

We fought stray dogs for scraps of food and slept under bridges with nothing but burlap sacks to keep us warm.

As we grew older, he sent me to school while he worked in a dingy restaurant.

When bullies cornered me, Ethan stepped in, fists swinging even as his pinky snapped under their blows. He stood there, blood dripping down his face, until they ran off.

When I got my first period in high school, he bought pads for me, sprinting away from the girls' bathroom as someone screamed, "Pervert."

In college, he worked double shifts, but no matter how exhausted he was, he'd wait for me after night classes just to hear about my day.

From 5 to 21, we were inseparable. I never imagined he'd been hiding someone else in his heart all along. Worst still, his love for her was so possessive and twisted.

I thought our bond could withstand time and hardships. I was wrong. Chiara was the only softness in his heart.

A hand reached out, wiping the tears from my face.

"Ethan hates seeing me cry," Chiara murmured. "You look so much like me. It must hurt him to see you like this. Come meet my girl. She's coming home from school tomorrow. She's so sweet and well-behaved. She is Ethan's second favorite."

My spine, once steel, finally buckled. I collapsed to my knees, replaying every promise Ethan had ever made to me.

"Childbirth is too painful. I just need you by my side," he had said.

On my 18th birthday, Ethan gave me two gifts: himself and a vasectomy certificate.

He'd sacrificed the possibility of children to make me feel secure. Yet, behind my back, he'd built a family with someone else.

I didn't dare think about how long Ethan had known Chiara and how many years they'd shared.

Feeling like a clown, I fled the basement.

In the gilded cage, Chiara's innocent smile faded into something darker.

'Just one more day, and I'll be free,' I thought.

When Ethan woke up, I was ready for the day.

I looped my arm through his and leaned into his side. "Since you've proposed, shouldn't we plan our honeymoon?"

He wrapped his arms around me, lacing our fingers together. "Where do you want to go? How about a helicopter ride? Straight to the top."

He pulled a set of keys from his pocket like a magician. I played along, feigning excitement as he whisked me to a revolving restaurant.

As the helicopter circled the city, I kept an eye on the time, counting down the minutes until the operations team finished erasing my existence.

By sunset, we were drunk on the thrill of the day. Ethan's gaze burned into me, possessive and unhinged. My skin crawled as I coaxed him into the shower, my hands brushing against his pocket.

My blood turned to ice. I knew exactly what the cold, circular metal was.

Panic surged through me. I quickly decided to activate the backup plan.

I took out a spray bottle and sprayed the liquid into his face before he had a chance to cuff me.

He crumpled to the floor, his eyes blazing with fury and desperation.

"Don't go, Clara," he murmured.

But I didn't care anymore. 'Ethan, I stayed by your side through the hardest times. If Chiara is your choice, I'll step aside. Goodbye, forever.'