After a moment of silence, Frona glanced at James’s hand still gripping her throat.

“Can you… let go first?” she asked.

James stared at her coldly before loosening his grip.

Frona coughed violently, stumbling back a couple of steps as she steadied herself, gathering her thoughts.

James didn’t look away. His gaze remained locked on her, alert—ready to strike at the slightest misstep.

After a long pause, Frona finally spoke.

“In the beginning, we never placed any expectations on your wife… nor did we covet her existence.”