12 A Lonely Night
Mara
I wandered to the corner, searching for something simple. Something I could breathe in. That’s when I found it-an oversized, faded black T-shirt, tucked in like someone had forgotten it. It smelled like cinnamon.
Lucian.
He hadn’t meant for it to be left there. But it was.
The front door closed in the distance.
He was gone.
I held the shirt to my chest for a moment before slipping it on. Paired it with a white lace panty, because everything else in that dresser screamed seduction, and I had no intention of playing that game.
I left the closet and walked into the bathroom. It was sleek, minimalist, shared. No division, just an arch that led into the second room-his space.
It was plain. Stripped down. The bed smaller, the furniture sparse. Functional. Clean. It was nothing like the grand bedroom I now stood in. I was sleeping in the better space.
Why?
Why would he give me that, after everything?
Maybe guilt. Maybe obligation. Maybe some quiet war he was fighting with himself.
I didn’t know. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I showered, dried my hair slowly, and padded barefoot to the bed. I slipped beneath the sheets wearing nothing but the
old T-shirt and lace panties. The t-shirt was oversized and warm and smelled like a part of the world that hadn’t judged me
yet.
I stared at the ceiling in the dark, refusing to cry.
I was here now.
Whatever this was-this quiet in-between space-I would survive it.
I sat on the bed, staring at nothing.
Boredom had settled in like a thick fog, heavy and slow. The silence in the room was loud, and the loneliness of my
wedding night crept in through the walls.
I had expected it. I knew Lucian wasn’t coming back. But knowing didn’t make it easier.
I grabbed my phone, started scrolling aimlessly, and somehow ended up browsing through adult stores.
It started as a distraction, but quickly became something else-a deliberate decision. Something I had thought about
before but never dared to act on.
Back at home, I’d never even considered ordering anything like this. My mother would’ve found it, and the embarrassment would have been soul-shattering. But this wasn’t home anymore. And I wasn’t the same girl.
I was a married woman now, even if the man I married had left me alone on our wedding night to be with someone else.
So I clicked through item after item. It felt ridiculous at first-awkward, even-but also empowering in its own quiet way.
ALonely Night
I wasn’t going to beg Lucian. Not for company. Not for s*x. Not for anything.
Especially not when I knew my heat cycle was coming.
I had done my research. I knew what to expect. Heat wasn’t just a craving-it was a storm. And I refused to fall apart because I was too proud or too scared to prepare myself.
I would not crawl to Lucian out of desperation. I made myself that promise, and I intended to keep it.
I added a few toys to my cart. Some I understood, others… I’d figure out later. Curiosity and defiance guided my hand.
Maybe it was petty. Maybe it was rebellion. But I needed something that was mine. Some part of control that hadn’t been stripped away in all of this.
After placing the order, I wandered into Lucian’s room.
It was still, quiet, and empty-just like I expected. Nothing in it gave away who he really was. It felt temporary, like a space he used because he had to, not because he wanted to. No photos. No scent.
No sign of the man who had held me in front of a crowd and carried me across a threshold like a fairy tale.
This was real life.
And in real life, he had left. Probably to see her. The woman he loved. The one he hadn’t been forced to marry.
I was the intrusion.
The legal wife-but not the chosen one.
I sighed and returned to my room. The absurdity of it all made me want to laugh, but there was no humor in it. Just cold,
sharp awareness.
There were no curtains. No door between our rooms. I’d have to be careful when my package arrived. I’d make sure to only use them when he was away. If he noticed-or heard anything-I didn’t care. This was survival, and I had the right to
take care of myself.
I felt oddly proud of my purchases. Empowered. Not broken.
Not anymore.
Eventually, the weight of the day caught up with me. I curled into the oversized shirt and sank into the bed, the faint scent of cinnamon still lingering like a ghost in the fabric.
I closed my eyes.
And for the first time since the engagement was announced, I didn’t cry myself to sleep.
3
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