Aimi Obedient Bride

Aimi waits on the bed, blindfolded and still, heart fluttering beneath her ribs. The room is warm, the silence deep. She hears the door open and close, footsteps fading—then returning. She doesn’t move. She trusts completely. But the anticipation coils tighter with every breath.

The dinner table is messy, half-empty bottles cluttering the surface. Her husband slumps forward, passed out. Aimi sits quietly, smiling politely at the guest. She apologizes for his behavior, but behind her words is loneliness, the quiet ache of being unseen.

Dressed in delicate lace, Aimi waits on the couch, blindfold in hand. The house is quiet. When the door opens, she ties the blindfold fast and opens her arms, smiling. She thinks it's him. She wants to be brave. She wants to be a real wife. But the man in the doorway isn’t her husband.