Forced promises

Silent

The ride home from the photoshoot was silent. The tension between Aries and me had thickened like a storm cloud hanging over us. We sat on opposite sides of the back seat, staring out of the windows, lost in our own thoughts. The photographer had been overjoyed with how "perfect" the pictures turned out, but neither of us could even muster a polite smile by the end of it. We'd played the role of the perfect couple for the world to see, but now, as we drove back to the house, the façade was crumbling.

When we finally arrived at the sprawling estate that was now meant to be our home, I hesitated before stepping out of the car. This was it—our first night together as a couple. Even though the wedding hadn't happened yet, tradition demanded we start living under the same roof. It felt strange and suffocating all at once.

The house loomed ahead, its grandeur only making me feel smaller. Aries led the way inside, barely glancing in my direction as he pushed open the front door. The silence between us was palpable, and the sound of our footsteps echoed in the grand entryway, the house swallowing us in its emptiness.

We walked through the dimly lit hallways, the weight of the situation pressing down on me with every step. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, an odd mix of anger, resentment, and something else I couldn't quite place. We reached the door to what would be our bedroom—our shared bedroom—and I hesitated.

Aries opened the door without a word and walked in, leaving it ajar behind him. I stood outside for a moment, staring at the doorframe, unsure if I was ready to cross this threshold. I wasn't sure I could handle being in such close quarters with him after everything that had happened.

But there was no escaping it. Not tonight, not ever, it seemed.

I stepped into the room and was immediately struck by how luxurious it was. The bed was massive, draped in silk sheets and pillows that looked too perfect to touch. A fire crackled in the fireplace, casting a warm glow over the room, but it did nothing to ease the cold tension between us. Aries had already discarded his jacket and was standing by the window, staring out into the darkness. He hadn't acknowledged me since we walked in, and I wasn't sure whether that was a blessing or another insult.

I walked over to the bed, feeling the awkwardness settle in. This was supposed to be the place where newlyweds shared their first night together. But instead of excitement or anticipation, all I felt was dread.

The silence between us stretched on, thick and unbearable, until I couldn't stand it anymore. "Are we just going to ignore each other for the rest of the night?" I asked, my voice cutting through the quiet.

Aries didn't turn around. "What do you want me to say, Vivian?"

I could feel the frustration rising in my chest again, the same heat that had flared up during the photoshoot. "I don't know. Maybe something more than silence? You can't just act like nothing happened today."

Finally, he turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "What do you expect? We both know what this is. We're playing a part, just like we've always known we would. Does it really matter how we feel?"

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Is that really how you see this? Just a part to play? A deal to get through?"

Aries' eyes flickered with something—maybe regret, maybe anger—but he didn't answer right away. He took a few steps closer, the firelight casting shadows across his face. "You and I both know this marriage was never about love, Vivian. It's about duty. It's what we signed up for."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, even though I had known them to be true. Still, hearing him say it so plainly made it all feel so much worse. "So that's it, then?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. "We just go through the motions? Play the perfect couple for everyone else and live like strangers behind closed doors?"

Aries ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident now. "What do you want from me, Vivian? You've made it clear you don't want this any more than I do. So why are we pretending that anything is going to change?"

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. What did I want from him? Understanding? Compromise? I didn't know anymore. All I knew was that I couldn't stand the idea of living this lie for the rest of my life, pretending to be someone I wasn't just to fulfill a duty to our families.

"I just don't know how we're supposed to do this," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aries' expression softened, just for a moment, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—maybe he felt the same way I did, trapped and powerless. But then, just as quickly as it had appeared, that vulnerability vanished, replaced by the cold, distant mask he always wore around me.

"We'll figure it out," he said, his voice unbothered

With that, he turned away, heading toward the large armchair by the fireplace. He sat down, his back to me, signaling the end of the conversation.

I stood there, staring at him, the distance between us feeling more vast than ever despite the fact that we were only a few feet apart. My heart ached with frustration, anger, and sadness, but there was nothing left to say.

I walked over to the bed and sat down, the silk sheets cool beneath my fingers. I glanced at Aries, still seated by the fire, and wondered how many more nights like this we would endure—nights filled with silence and forced proximity, with unspoken words and lingering resentment.

Eventually, I lay down, staring up at the ceiling, the soft glow of the fire casting shadows across the room. My mind raced, but exhaustion slowly overtook me. I could feel the weight of everything pressing down, but for tonight, at least, there was nothing I could do.

Aries remained by the fire, the distance between us growing with every second.

And so, in the same room, but worlds apart, we spent our first night together.