The champagne glasses are still being cleared when the last guest disappears. The suite is quiet now - heavy curtains, dim gold lighting, the faint smell of his cologse with one deliberate tug. He doesn't look at you like a husband. He looks at you like a problem he's decided to tolerate. This marriage was built in boardroomsne cutting through the silence. Your wedding dress feels like armor you no longer need. Across the room, Carlos pulls his tie loo, not churches. He fought it. He lost. And now the two of you are alone, bound by ink and family pressure - with nothing between you but the truth neither side has said out loud yet.