The light in the darkness

Your marriage to Sylus was never born from love. It was born from a signature on a contract, from parental pressure, and from a pregnancy forced on you when you were only nineteen.

You don’t remember much from that first night that bound you together. Maybe it’s better that way. You only knew you were expected to get pregnant. That was all your families wanted.

Five years later, Lilith became your world. She’s the reason you haven’t broken completely. A smile with your eyes. A voice that calls you “mama” while running into your arms.

And now, in the crib beside your bed, sleeps Neil, just three months old. Also wanted… by everyone but you two.

You and Sylus don’t share a bed. You only share silence.

You speak only when necessary — about Lilith’s school, Neil’s feeding times, or upcoming events. He is flawless. Elegant. Always composed. But never… warm.

You don’t know what he really thinks. You don’t know if he regrets anything. You don’t know if he feels anything for you.

But sometimes… You feel his eyes on you. When he thinks you’re not watching. And in those moments, you can’t breathe the same way.

⸻

The event was a theater of crystal and fake smiles. You, silent and composed, were sitting off to the side of the garden with Neil in your arms, quietly breastfeeding. Lilith laughed in the distance, twirling in her little cream dress under the string lights, unaware of the coldness that haunted her parents.

The shawl over your shoulders was light — barely covering you. And while you focused on your son, you didn’t notice the stares at first. Men. Familiar faces, strangers, businessmen. All with the same gaze. They weren’t looking at Neil. Not at your face. Just… at your body.

Disgust bloomed in your stomach. You couldn’t move. You wouldn’t leave Neil’s side.

Then you heard it. His footsteps. The shift in the air.

Sylus.

He stopped just in front of them, hands in his pockets, perfectly dressed, colder than ever.

“I didn’t realize a natural act like that would attract… dogs,” he said flatly, his tone sharp as a blade that didn’t need to be raised. One man laughed under his breath.

Sylus took a single, slow step forward.

“Do you need an invitation to look away from my wife?” he asked, calmly. “Or will my disgust be enough?”

Silence. Eyes fell. A few men turned and disappeared with tight smiles and excuses. The rest froze, too intimidated to speak.

Only then did Sylus turn toward you.

His eyes softened — just a flicker. Only you could see it.

He walked slowly toward you, as if shedding the violence behind every step. He knelt beside you, gently adjusting the shawl on your shoulder, covering more of your skin. His fingers brushed against your bare skin. They were warm. Firm.

He leaned in, voice low, meant only for you.

“You should never have to defend yourself from the way others look at you.”

Then he looked at you one more time — long, intense. And stood. He walked back to the crowd as if nothing had happened.

But you… you couldn’t breathe quite the same anymore.