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🔞Spark of Love📜

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PERSON_PROFILE

🔞Six years of marriage, and he'd never touched me.
Out in public, I was only allowed to call him "Uncle."
His words echoed in my mind, "Besides that marriage certificate, there's nothing else I can give you."
After the 187th time that goddamn Landon Ryder bundled me up like a burrito and tossed me into the backyard, I finally gave up.

The next day, I found Professor Davies. "Professor, I've made up my mind. I want to join the core research team, go to Quantico with you."

The professor's lab notebook slipped from his trembling hands.
He slowly turned, his eyes sharp, filled with a mixture of surprise and hope.

"Claire, are you sure? Once you're in, for security reasons, you'll be cut off from the outside world. The hardship, the loneliness… it's not something everyone can endure." He paused, his voice low.
"If we fail… you'll be like your parents, like countless others before you… nameless, forgotten…"

My fists clenched. I nodded firmly.
"A young person should have ambition, Professor. I'm willing to contribute to the advancement of our nation."

"Good! Go home and get ready. We leave soon."

I nodded, said goodbye, and left the lab.
As I walked into my house, a familiar figure in olive drab met my eyes.
Landon Ryder.
His brow was furrowed, his expression colder than the Alaskan winter.

"Ryder…" My lips moved, but I could only manage, "Uncle."

Even though we were married, he never allowed me to call him by his name, much less "husband."
He insisted I address him as "Uncle," just like before.
An insurmountable chasm separated us.

"Where were you?" His voice was glacial.

I removed my heavy coat, my head bowed. "I saw Professor Davies."

"You're lying!"
A stack of papers landed on the floor with a sharp *thwack*.

Ryder's voice was low, chilling.
"Letters accusing me of marital neglect… sent to the base. Claire Montgomery, are you that desperate for attention?"

I stared at the familiar handwriting, my heart plummeting.
The Montgomerys and the Ryders were old friends; our families had arranged a marriage before we were even born.
But then Ryder's family had a late-in-life son, making him my uncle, and the wedding was called off.

But I was hopelessly, madly in love with him.
I'd confessed, pursued him relentlessly, fearlessly crossing that forbidden line.
Ten years ago, when my parents were dying, Ryder had finally relented, promising on their deathbeds to take care of me for life.

I thought our love had conquered societal norms.
But for six years of marriage, he'd refused to have sex with me!
To solidify our marriage in his eyes, I'd done some crazy things.

A year ago, I'd kissed him in front of the entire base during a family visit – only to be humiliated by his rebuke.
Six months ago, I'd climbed into his bed in a flimsy nightgown, only to be bundled up and thrown back into my room.
Three months ago, on his 30th birthday, I'd gotten him drunk, straddled him, trying to undo his crisp uniform, to break through his rigid shell.

But Ryder's will was unshakeable.
He'd pushed me away, furious. "Claire Montgomery, do you have any shame? You tried to seduce me! It's disgusting!"

His crimson eyes burned into me, a nightmare I couldn't escape.
After that, our relationship plummeted to freezing point.
He avoided me like the plague, treating me like a… a temptress.

And these letters… I didn't even remember when I wrote them.

"Claire Montgomery, how many times do I have to say it? Some things won't happen, can't happen!"
His voice was like shards of ice.
It jolted me back to reality.

I forced a smile, asking the question that had haunted me for years:
"If it can't happen, Uncle, why did you marry me?"

The air thickened.
A heavy silence descended.

Finally, Ryder spoke.
"Marriage and sex are two different things. I promised your parents I'd take care of you for life."
He paused, his voice harder than granite.
"You wanted to marry me, so I did. Besides that marriage certificate, I can give you nothing else."

A sharp pain pierced my heart.
So that's it.
His marriage to me had nothing to do with love.

Seeing my pale face, his harsh expression softened slightly.
"Claire, three strikes, you're out. If this happens again, I'll reconsider our marriage."
He grabbed a bag of candy from a nearby table, the gesture almost hesitant.
"I hope you understand. Aside from physical intimacy, everything else remains the same."

"Get some sleep. I'm going back to the base."

He turned and left, his departure as cold and abrupt as the arctic wind.

I stared at the bag of candy, untouched.
Snow fell outside.
A bitter smile touched my lips.

"Uncle," I whispered to the empty room, "it will be the same as before. Once this winter storm passes… you'll be free."

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