Jennifer's chest tightened as she thought of her own life.
Years of a loveless, sexless marriage had taught her the hollow ache of neglect, the quiet despair of nights spent yearning for intimacy that would never come.
She had endured it, silently, painfully, and the scars were still fresh, even after all these years.
She could not—would not—allow her daughter to experience the same fate.
"I've seen what happens when someone like you marries someone like her," Jennifer continued, her voice growing firmer with each word.
"At first, there might be charm, smiles, attention—but eventually, she'll be just another name on a list, another possession. And that's not the life I want for my daughter. She deserves someone who will choose her every day, someone who will cherish her, not just claim her."
