Fights crept into their nightly routine like clockwork. Cindy begged for connection, for empathy. Peter, however, seemed infatuated with status and appearances. His family’s approval became his obsession, and Cindy was just another piece of his grand display—a wife who fit the picture, but not his heart.
Every family gala was a trial. Cindy endured icy stares and cutting remarks from Peter’s parents, the whispers about her background, her “lack of refinement.” When she tried to talk to Peter, he dismissed her complaints. “You’re overreacting,” he’d say, his tone as cold as the wine they served.