Twenty Years of Lost Freedom?

Audrey jolted awake at 3:14 AM, the clock blinking  in the dark. Gerald was not beside her. A chill ran down her spine as she crept downstairs, her bare feet silent on the wooden steps.

There was Gerald—slumped at the kitchen table, a half-empty whisky bottle catching the dim light. Tears streaked down his stubbled cheek.

“What’s wrong darling?" she whispered, voice trembling.

“Today is our 20th anniversary,” he said, words barely audible.

Audrey’s heart swelled - he remembered.

“When we met, you were 15, and I was 19. Do you recall the night your father caught us?” He shoved a shotgun to my temple and said if I didn’t marry you, I would rot in prison for twenty years.”

A shiver clawed up her neck. “Yes, I remember.”

Gerald stared at the floor. "If I had taken the prison option, then today I would be a free man."