Twisted Vows, Hidden Desire

Claire pushed open the front door of her house, the soft creak echoing in the quiet living room. Her footsteps were slow, each step heavier than the last. Her heart felt like it had been squeezed too tight, leaving a dull ache in her chest. She wiped at her face, but the tears kept falling.

"Claire?" Her father's deep voice called from the kitchen. "That you?"

She sniffled, quickly running her hands over her face in an attempt to look composed. "Yeah, Dad. It's me," she replied, her voice shaky.

Paul Bennett stepped out of the kitchen, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. His brow furrowed the moment he saw her face. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

At that moment, Claire couldn't hold it in any longer. Her shoulders shook as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands, her quiet sobs filling the room.

Paul's face softened with concern. He crossed the room in a few strides, pulling her into his arms. "Hey, hey," he whispered, his large hands gently rubbing her back. "What happened, baby girl? Talk to me."

Claire buried her face in his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe her for a moment. Her sister, Emma, peeked from the staircase, eyes wide with concern. She slowly descended, her gaze fixed on Claire.

"Is she okay?" Emma asked, her voice soft.

"Not yet," Paul replied, leading Claire to the couch. He sat her down, his arm draped around her shoulders. Emma sat on Claire's other side, her small hands clutching Claire's arm.

"Talk to us, Claire," Paul urged gently. "What's going on?"

Claire wiped her eyes and sniffled. Her voice came out in shaky bursts. "It's Ethan… his parents… they want him to marry someone else."

Emma's eyes widened. "What? But you guys have been together for so long!"

Claire nodded, her eyes fixed on the carpet. "I know. But it doesn't matter to them. They've already picked someone for him. And Ethan… he's not even fighting it." Her voice broke at the last words.

Paul's face darkened with a deep frown. He sat quietly for a moment, his hand still on her back, moving in slow, steady circles.

"Did he tell you that himself?" Paul asked.

"Yeah," she muttered, biting her lip to keep from crying again. "He said they're threatening to cut him off if he doesn't go along with it. No support for his business. Nothing."

Paul exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. He glanced at Emma, whose lips were pressed together in a tight, angry line.

"That boy's in a tough spot," Paul admitted. "But so are you, Claire."

Claire turned to face him, her eyes red-rimmed, filled with pain and confusion. "So what am I supposed to do, Dad? Just give up? Walk away like I never cared?"

Paul shifted so he was looking her directly in the eyes. His expression was firm but kind. "Sometimes, sweetheart, love isn't enough. If his parents have that much control over him, you'll be fighting this battle for the rest of your life."

Claire shook her head, fresh tears spilling down. "But I love him, Dad. I love him so much."

Paul's face twisted in pain at her words. He hated seeing his daughter like this. "I know you do, baby. But love isn't supposed to hurt like this. If Ethan can't stand up for you now, how's he going to stand up for you later? Marriage isn't just love. It's loyalty, sacrifice, and protection. If he can't protect you from his own parents, what's the point?"

Claire stared at him, her heart shattering with every word. She didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to give up on Ethan. But her father's words sank deep.

"I just… I thought we'd get through it," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Paul leaned in, his voice gentle but firm. "You don't have to be the only one fighting, Claire. Love is a partnership, not a war you fight alone."

Claire dropped her head into her hands. Emma wrapped her arms around her, resting her cheek on Claire's shoulder. "It's okay, sis," Emma whispered. "It's okay to let go."

They sat like that for a while, Claire leaning into her family's warmth as her heart slowly broke into pieces.

---

Ethan paced back and forth in his bedroom, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. His jaw was set, and his eyes kept darting to the phone screen. Call her. Just call her, he told himself.

He swiped to Claire's name and tapped the call button. The phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

He hung up and tried again.

This time, it went straight to voicemail.

"Claire, it's me," he said after the beep. "Please, call me back. I know you're upset, and I know I should have handled it differently. But I need to talk to you. Please."

He ended the call and sat on the edge of his bed, his hands gripping his hair. His chest felt tight, like something heavy was pressing down on him.

She's ignoring me, he realized. And it hurt more than he expected.

He glanced around his room, his eyes landing on the framed photo on his nightstand. It was a picture of him and Claire at the beach, arms around each other, both of them laughing at the camera. Her smile had always been his favorite thing about her. It was so genuine, so full of life.

Now, he had ruined it.

His phone buzzed in his hand. His heart leapt with hope, but it quickly faded when he saw it wasn't Claire. It was Ryan, his best friend.

He ignored the call. He wasn't in the mood for Ryan's "tough love" speeches.

His gaze shifted back to the photo, his eyes locked on Claire's smile. He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest.

"I'm sorry, Claire," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. "I'm so sorry."

He leaned forward, his head in his hands, the weight of everything crashing down on him. For the first time in a long time, Ethan felt powerless.

And he hated it.

---

Claire sat at the edge of her bed, her eyes fixed on her phone. Ethan's missed calls and voicemail notifications were lined up on the screen. Her fingers hovered over the play button for the voicemail, but she didn't press it.

Her father's words replayed in her mind.

"If he can't protect you from his own parents, what's the point?"

Tears threatened to spill again, but she blinked them away. She knew if she listened to Ethan's voicemail, she'd weaken. She'd want to hear his voice, to hear him tell her that he'd fight for her.

But she knew better now. She couldn't be the only one fighting.

Her fingers hovered for a moment longer before she pressed delete.

Emma knocked softly on the door before peeking in. "Hey, you okay?"

Claire nodded, though her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. "I will be," she replied, her voice steady despite the ache in her heart.

Emma stepped inside and sat next to her on the bed, her gaze full of quiet support.

"Proud of you, sis," Emma said, bumping her shoulder against Claire's.

Claire let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Doesn't feel like something to be proud of."

"Trust me, it is," Emma said, her voice unwavering. "Sometimes, walking away takes more strength than staying."

Claire leaned her head on her sister's shoulder, her eyes closing as exhaustion set in. Her heart was broken, but for the first time, she felt a tiny flicker of peace.

Maybe she didn't have to fight this war alone.

And maybe, just maybe, she was strong enough to walk away.