Third Person (POV)
The air in the opulent study was thick with unspoken tension. Hazel fidgeted nervously, his youthful naiveté clashing with the icy indifference emanating from Evelyn, his wife. The gilded cage of their marriage felt heavier than ever, the glittering walls reflecting the growing distance between them.
As the shadows lengthened, Evelyn finally turned to him, her eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down his spine. The mask of indifference had slipped, revealing the raw emotions beneath.
"Hazel," she began, her voice a low growl, "Do you ever wonder why I despise you so?"
Hazel's breath hitched. The question hung heavy in the air, shattering the fragile illusion of their relationship. He stammered, his voice barely a whisper, "I... I don't know."
Evelyn let out a sharp laugh, the sound devoid of humor. "Of course you don't," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You are so oblivious to the pain you inflict, living in your own idyllic world."
Confusion clouded Hazel's mind. He had no idea what he had done to evoke such intense hatred in the woman he loved.
"It's all about your mother, Hazel," Evelyn continued, her voice laced with bitterness. "The woman who failed to save mine. The woman who condemned me to a life without my mother's love."
Hazel's heart sank. The name, familiar yet distant, sent a jolt through him. Dr. Yates, the woman who had treated him countless times, the embodiment of kindness and compassion, had somehow become the source of his wife's loathing.
"I... I don't understand," he choked out, the weight of the truth slowly sinking in.
Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "You are the son of Mrs. Yates, Hazel. The woman who swore to save lives but failed to save the one that mattered most to me."
The revelation hit him like a physical blow. His innocence shattered, he saw the past in a new light. Her coldness, her distance, it all made sense now. He was not just her husband; he was a constant reminder of her mother's loss, a living embodiment of her grief.
"I... I didn't know," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. He had never known the gravity of his mother's actions, the pain they had caused.
Evelyn's anger was palpable. "Of course you didn't," she spat. "You were too busy living your privileged life, oblivious to the wreckage your mother left behind."
Her words pierced him like daggers. The love he had naively hoped for was gone, replaced by a cold, unforgiving hatred. He was trapped in a gilded cage, not just by circumstance, but by the weight of his past and the consequences of his mother's actions.
He looked into Evelyn's eyes, seeing not only hatred, but a twisted sense of justice. His life, he realized, was no longer his own. It was now a living testament to his mother's failure, a constant reminder of the pain she had caused.
But as despair threatened to consume him, a flicker of defiance ignited within him. He would not become a victim. He would face the consequences of his mother's actions, but he would not let them define him. He would find a way to earn Evelyn's forgiveness, to rebuild the love that had once been there.
The road ahead would be long and arduous, but with a newfound resolve, Hazel knew he would find his way.