"Don't force it. Are you really willing to gamble with your feelings?" Jendral's voice was a low rasp, cutting through the air.
"You doubt me? Why? Is it because you look down on me, just as your parents did? Or are you simply the type who only sees caste and status?"
"Once you've 'won' me... will you finally feel victorious? You look at me like a trophy, Aletta. I am not an object for your conquest."
Silence fell like a heavy curtain. Aletta wanted to snap back, to deny it, but the truth gnawed at her: she was obsessed with Jendral not out of pure love, but because she loathed being belittled. Their foundation was cracked from the start. What kind of union was this?
"It's not just my parents... I've spent a lifetime watching divorces, Aletta. It makes me wonder—does love even exist? Your behavior only proves it; love in a marriage is a myth. People just want leverage. Once the profit is gone, or the boredom sets in, they discard the bond like trash and move on to the next."
