Chapter 4 Saying those words to the child I brought into this world at the cost of half my life—how could it not break my heart? I can’t even remember when it started, but with each passing day, Nash has grown more and more like Kaiden. My marriage to Kaiden was arranged long ago. When I was 14, my grandpa and father walked out of the study with the elders of Kaiden’s family, all of them smiling as if the future was already decided. From that moment, the Fielton family began grooming me to be their daughter-in-law. Back in school, many classmates envied the privilege I was born into. I never bothered to correct them—I could only force a smile. Yes, I lived in comfort, but I had no freedom at all. When I did poorly on the SSAT, my mom stewed in anger all night. She burst into my room in the middle of the night, dragged me out of bed, and slapped me across the face, furious that I’d embarrassed her. In high school, when I rebelled and started dating early, my dad delivered another slap. He warned me that if I didn’t want to marry into the Fielton family, my only other option would be to marry some other businessman nearly 20 years my senior. I met Kaiden for the first time when I was 15, at a meeting arranged by both families. He was nothing like the man he is now—a boy who smiled easily, every emotion written plainly on his face. I don’t remember much else, just a white shirt under a blue sky, and a pair of eyes alive with feeling. Later, I heard he went to war with his family over his first love. I admired him for that, maybe even envied him. At least he dared to fight back. At least he had the right to resist. But it wasn’t long before Marlene came to visit our house. She wore a polite, apologetic smile as she took my mother’s hand and assured her, “Don’t worry. The situation with Kaiden has been handled.” I hid by the doorway, listening, feeling a hollow ache inside. So it was true, after all. After that, my family kept arranging opportunities for me and Kaiden to meet. At first, he was distant, barely civil. But gradually, he accepted it, sometimes even exchanging a few words with me. I watched him change—watched the prickly, outspoken boy become silent and reserved, every emotion tucked away. Even the signature gardenia scent he used to wear faded from the air over time. Then, when I was 20 and Kaiden was 24, we were on our way to a gala in Cleveland when disaster struck—a landslide trapped us in the car. Kaiden and I were buried together for a day and a night. When the rescue crew finally found us, my last memory was of his arm shielding me, torn and bloodied by the crushed frame of the car. When I woke up, he proposed to me. In front of both our families, he looked at me and asked, “Valerie, will you be my wife?” I remember his arm wrapped in white bandages, calling my name in the wreckage, his voice tight with fear, telling me, “Valerie, don’t fall asleep. “If you sleep now, you’ll never be free again!” Without thinking, I placed my hand in his. I didn’t notice how his eyes, lowered and expressionless, seemed to be fulfilling a duty rather than a dream. So we got married. Four years later, just as everyone hoped, we had a child. From the moment Nash was born, he was adored by both families. Marlene insisted he needed the same elite upbringing Kaiden had. So he poured out that glass of milk, and with the same innocent face as his father, told me he was sorry—then went right on doing what he’d always believed was his right.
Tailor-Made Wife
Status: Ongoing
