Falling for Freedom

Chapter 1

 **Chapter 1: The Weight of Silence**

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden hue through the kitchen window, but the light felt heavy in the air. Y/N stood in front of the stove, her heart racing as she stirred a pot of rice. The gentle simmering sounds were drowned out by the anxiety tightening in her chest. She had promised herself that today would be different; she would try to be the perfect wife. But with every minute that passed, the tension in the house grew thicker.

**Ethan:** "Y/N! Where is my dinner?"

Ethan's voice thundered from the dining room, sending a jolt of fear through her; it was a sound she had grown accustomed to, the precursor to a storm that would ripple through her carefully constructed world.

**Y/N:** "I'm making it now; it'll be ready in just a few minutes."

She replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. She took a deep breath, bracing herself for what was to come.

**Ethan:** "Just a few minutes? Do you think I have all night to wait for you to play chef? You know I have meetings, and I can't show up with nothing in my stomach."

The frustration in his voice hit her like a slap; she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over, reminding herself that crying only fueled his anger.

**Y/N:** "I'm sorry; I wanted to make something special for you; it just took longer than I expected."

**Ethan:** "Special? You think this is special? Do you think you're some kind of gourmet chef? You should be ashamed of yourself for not being ready on time."

He scoffed, glancing around the modest kitchen. Her heart sank; the words pierced through her like icy daggers. Ethan had a way of twisting her intentions, turning her attempts to please him into ammunition against her. She had tried to learn new recipes, to surprise him, but it never seemed to be enough.

**Y/N:** "Please; just give me a moment—"

But he cut her off, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming.

**Ethan:** "I don't want excuses, Y/N; I want a meal. Is that too much to ask from my wife?"

His voice dropped, becoming dangerously low, and she felt the familiar dread creep in.

**Y/N:** "I'll have it ready in five minutes."

Her voice trembled slightly as she focused on the stove, willing herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She could feel the heat radiating from the pots, but it paled in comparison to the heat of Ethan's gaze burning into her.

**Ethan:** "Five minutes? You've had all day to prepare, and yet here we are."

As the seconds ticked by, the silence in the kitchen grew heavy; Y/N could feel the tension tightening around her like a noose. Every moment that passed felt like a countdown; each tick echoing the threat of his impending rage.

Finally, she heard the sound of her phone buzzing on the counter. It was a fleeting moment of distraction, but it was quickly drowned out by Ethan's impatient sigh.

**Ethan:** "What is it now?"

**Y/N:** "It's just a message."

She replied, not daring to reach for it; she felt a chill run down her spine, knowing that any movement that took her attention away from him might provoke another outburst.

**Ethan:** "Leave it; I don't want you distracted while I'm starving in front of you."

His words cut deep; they left her feeling small and unworthy. She returned her focus to the stove, the rice bubbling away, wishing desperately that she could disappear into the steam rising before her.

**Ethan:** "You're worthless; how hard is it to make a simple meal?"

The heat in his voice intensified, and Y/N felt a knot of fear in her stomach. She didn't want to provoke him further; she didn't want to see that look in his eyes. But his next words sent a cold shiver down her spine.

**Ethan:** "You're so useless sometimes, Y/N!"

Without warning, he lunged forward, grabbing her wrist painfully tight. She gasped as the heat of anger radiated off him, his face contorted in rage.

**Y/N:** "Ethan, please—"

The plea escaped her lips just as he slammed his fist down on the counter, causing her to flinch.

**Ethan:** "Do you understand how frustrating this is? You can't even do the simplest things right!"

His grip on her wrist tightened, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. The pressure of his fingers made it hard to breathe; she tried to pull away, but he only held her tighter.

**Y/N:** "I'm trying; I'm so sorry!"

She felt the tears spilling over now, the fear mixed with frustration flooding her senses. She could see the darkness in his eyes, and it terrified her.

**Ethan:** "Trying isn't good enough; you need to learn your place!"

He finally released her, and she stumbled back, cradling her wrist as the sting of his grip lingered. She fought to catch her breath, wishing she could disappear. The tension in the air was suffocating, and she could feel her heart racing.

**Y/N:** "I just want to make you happy..."

But his expression was cold, dismissive. He turned away, resuming his stance at the table, leaving her standing in the kitchen, feeling the weight of his anger like a physical presence.

As she ladled the rice onto plates and prepared to serve him, she felt the familiar weight of resignation settle over her; the night would end with her serving him dinner, with him criticizing every choice she had made; each moment another reminder of her failure to meet his expectations.

**Ethan:** "About time."

He muttered as she placed the plate in front of him; the food steaming and fragrant but overshadowed by the tension that hung between them.

**Y/N:** "Eat; you'll need your strength for work."

She said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced at her; a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, and she could see the glint of something darker in his eyes.

**Ethan:** "You really think you're a good wife, don't you? Just remember, Y/N; it's not just about cooking; it's about knowing your place."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut; she forced herself to nod, swallowing the lump in her throat. Yes, she reminded herself; it was about knowing her place.

As she watched him eat, the silence felt suffocating; the weight of his disappointment pressing down on her. She longed for a way out, a moment of escape; but for now, all she could do was endure.

The kitchen, filled with the aroma of dinner, felt more like a prison than a home; as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Y/N realized that the darkness outside mirrored the shadows in her heart.

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