This went on for years, from the time I was twelve until I turned twenty-two. But everything changed on the day of the engagement banquet. As the clinking of glasses filled the air and the elders exchanged lighthearted banter, he broke his silence with a single question,
“How is Leta doing?”
At the mention of her name, the mood shifted. The room seemed to lighten, as if talking about her made everything better. I, however, shrank back into the corner, retreating into silence, while Shawn shot me a cold glance, muttering, “You’re not fit for the spotlight.”
His words struck me and I internalized them deeply, fueling my determination to change. I dedicated myself to learning the manners and etiquette of high society, bit by bit. I wanted nothing more than to be a good wife for him, to prove myself worthy of his love, to make sure I wouldn’t let him down. But what had that effort led to?