My nails dig into my palm.
"Do not presume to know the depths of my heart," I reply.
He does not relent.
"You carry obedience like a shawl. You wrap it close so they do not see the fire beneath."
He stands close enough that I can make out the pale line of his throat in the dim light.
"But you are not like them. You do not belong to their narrow rooms. You press against them like a branch straining at a shutter."
The branches seem to lean to him, the night itself listening.
"You stand at your window and watch the birds," he goes on. "You follow their flight with your eyes until your neck aches. Your hands curl against the sill as though you might rise with them."
My breath catches once. I do not let it show again. He moves nearer.
"You are not meant to live folded. You want the tree. The height. The fall."
The knife trembles once in my grip. I steady it.
"They pull you back," his voice sinks to a whisper. "They press you down. They tell you how to sit. How to speak. How to breathe."
His hand lifts slightly, not touching me yet, only hovering a breath from my shoulder.
"I have watched them take and take and take."
The word falls slow, deliberate.
"And I have watched you fold yourself smaller each time. Until your ribs hold more breath than you dare let out."
My breath shortens.
"You think I do not see?" he asks quietly.
I swallow, feeling the cool of him through the air between us.
His eyes darken. "I saw you with the boy."
The tone is almost gentle.
"That foolish creature who would rather bruise what he claims to cherish than wait a handful of nights. He would have you bent and trembling in a barn so he may ease himself before the wedding fire is lit, then leave you to kneel in shame for it."
"Silence," I snap.
My grip falters for a heartbeat, heat rushing to my face. I step toward him without meaning to.
He notices. A faint curve touches his mouth.
"Unless," he says, "he felt what I felt."
He takes one last step.
The space between us thins to breath.
"Unless he knows you do not truly wish to be bound to him at all."
The wind moves through the branches overhead. I feel it at my back.
