He had been born with a medical condition that prevented him from fully living the life expected of a husband.
Suddenly everything made sense. The house. The proposal. The strange arrangement.
They hadn’t chosen me because I was special.
They needed someone discreet. A wife who could preserve appearances.
Tears filled my eyes before I even realized it.
I didn’t know if I was crying for myself… or for him.
Ethan sat down on the edge of the bed, his shoulders heavy with exhaustion.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” he said quietly. “I won’t force you. I know this isn’t fair.”
There was no arrogance in his voice.
Only honesty.
“How long have you known?” I asked softly.
“Since I was twelve,” he replied with a faint, humorless smile. “My parents took me to specialists everywhere—New York, London, Zurich. Surgeries, treatments, experiments… nothing worked the way they hoped. To my family, I was supposed to carry the name forward. Instead, I became the problem no one could fix.”
His voice didn’t sound bitter.
Just tired.
For the first time, I realized something that tightened my chest.
I wasn’t the only one who had been forced into this marriage by circumstance.
He was trapped too.