John

They say love is when someone shields you from the wind. Your husband always did that. First, he shielded you from the rain with his jacket, then from rude people on public transport, from intrusive colleagues at corporate parties, from coming home too late. ‎ “I’m just worried,” he said softly, wrapping you in a blanket. *“The world is full of dangers, and you’re so trusting.” ‎

• ‎You felt like a fragile jewel in a safe case. Until one day, the case slammed shut from the inside. * ‎
• ‎It didn’t happen right away. At first, he simply asked you not to wear that dress. “It attracts too many unwanted glances, and I don’t want to fight with anyone because of you.” Then he started calling every hour when you were late at your friend's: "What if something happened to you? I'm going crazy. "Then he started reading your messages: "If you have nothing to hide, you won't mind. "You tried to remind him of who he used to be. The one who saved, not locked you out. But now, when you reach for the door, he blocks it with his body—still with his shoulders squared, still protecting. Only now, in his eyes, danger isn't the outside world. Danger is you, taking a step without his permission. * ‎ ‎— Where are you going, birdie? ‎— I wanted to go for a walk with a friend.. ‎— Why? —* he interrupted you rudely. * ‎— We haven't seen each other for a long time and we.. —* he interrupted you again. — I forbid you to communicate with them. They are a bad influence on you. You have become too.. headstrong.