Love Was My Cage, Not Salvation

cultural empire, returned to my doting parents and a perfect husband

where I found my husband playing with a little boy and Paig

and their "true" grandchild. They hadn't just hidd

to have me drugged with anxiety medication and declare

cage. The naive girl who believed in their affection

ights later, my mother sli

" she said. "Drink this.

ed. I smiled, held their gazes, and drank the entire glass in

pte

ce

nt I saw the family por

ng-lost daughter of the Miller agricultural empire, returned to the fold. I had doting parent

anchors that had finally secured my drifting life after years in

ic car accident. It was a somber, closed-casket affair. I had even grieved for the girl who had hated me, the

ark chapter closing, allowing

that light h

en before, marked with a small, discreet Miller Group logo. Curiosity, a stupid, fateful t

sun-drenched lawn with a

ig

ing vibrant and very, very alive. And beside her, swingi

s like looking at a photograph from a stranger's life. But the man was undeniably Caleb, and the woman

my stomach, a weight so immense

I could barely turn off the engine. I crept closer, hiding behind an

oices now, carried o

er!" the little boy

word sliced

with a fondness that made my blood run cold.

Caleb pressed a kiss to the boy'

d my throat and squeezing. "Thank you for this

ntle, reassuring tone he used with me every

fam

laughing child-it all morphed into a grotesque theater of deceit. My marriage, my family, my ent

th. The love I had cherished, the family I had yearned for my whole

on autopilot. As I fumbled for my keys, my

in, sweetie. Ev

en, my vision blurring. They were all in on it. My parents, who h

eply. It was a reckless, desperate test. A

thing strange on the way home. Fo

it

I let it go to voicemail. A second later, Caleb's phone, which I could see on t

Caleb. The caller ID showed the smiling p

my throat ti

ect, practiced concern. "Your dad called me, said you sent a wei

gging into the flesh of my palm. The pain was a small, sharp anchor in

voice. "You're right. I'm just tired. It was just som

wind rustling the leaves, the distan

elief. He bought it. "Listen, I'm just finishing up here. I'll be h

I manage

s real family, probably feeling like

an I had married wasn't just a liar. He was a stranger. An