Ethan’s posture was submissive. His voice trembled with desperate longing as he said, “Clara, marry me. I swear on my life. I’ll never hurt or fail you. If I could, I’d give you my very breath.”
His words dragged me back to the past when he was 17.
“Clara, I’ll protect you with my life. Just promise you’ll stay with me forever, okay?” he had said to me.
He’d kept that promise. He’d charged into a blazing inferno against all reasons and carried my unconscious body to safety.
I couldn’t tell which of his words were sincere. But with two days left before my planned escape, I forced a brittle smile. “Yes.”
Ethan’s face lit like a child handed the stars. He crushed me against his chest, fingers digging into my back as if I might dissolve.
“We’ll get the license now,” he breathed, grabbing my hands.
I stiffened and fabricated a lie. “But I have something to do today. Let’s get it another time.”
His smile dimmed but didn’t die.
Later that evening, before he could warm my milk, I took the initiative and prepared a glass for him, laced with extra ingredients.
Unsuspecting, he drank it with a sweet smile.
Even when he was unconscious, his arms vised around me in sleep and his legs tangled with mine like possessive vines.
Deep into the night, his regular breathing filled the air beside me. I crept downstairs, my heart thumping in my chest.
My flashlight beam shook as it landed on the cage.
Gold bars gleamed under the harsh lights. Inside it was Ethan’s hidden, treasured woman.
