Chapter 3

At night, I dreamed again of those years of terror. I woke up from the nightmare drenched in cold sweat.

The memories of that living hell flooded back and made me cry.

The traffickers had sold me to a destitute village, where an old man purchased me to serve his mentally disabled son, John, and marry him when I grew up.

From that day onward, I woke before dawn daily to work, which ranged from washing mountains of filthy clothes, feeding pigs, toiling in fields, and spoon-feeding John.

They even bought an iron chain to tie me to him.

After each day’s work, I became his shadow. I was forced to endure the bullying he suffered from village children.

For every bruise found on his body, they repaid me with twice the beating.

Every night, I curled up to sleep beneath John’s bed.

After six months of sharing meals and living space with him, a strange bond formed between us.

I tricked him into unlocking my chains and tried to escape, only to be recaptured at the village outskirts.

They beat me so badly that they broke two canes across my back.

My body was drenched in blood, and my leg was fractured.

They only treated my injuries to keep me mobile enough to protect their son.

They chained me in the pigsty without food for three days as punishment for escaping.

I was starved to the brink of madness.

I stared at the pig slop with desperate hunger, but my shackles kept me in the farthest corner. I could not even reach the trough.

Three days later, John’s brother, Jack, brought me a bowl of spoiled food.

The rancid meal had green mold. Its texture was sticky and stringy.

It reeked of sour decay.

I gagged.

Even after days of starvation, my stomach revolted at the stench.

Jack stomped my face into the tub of rotten food.

He sneered and said, “If you won’t eat this, you’ll have to starve for another three days!”

I did not want to starve. I wanted to live.

Even if it meant losing all my pride…

I held my breath and swallowed the rotten food little by little.

He turned and scampered off in excitement.

“Hahaha! I won the bet! John’s wife gobbled up what the dog wouldn’t even touch!”

After he left, I threw up all the spoiled food.

From that day on, I developed severe stomach problems.

After meeting Callum, he learned about my stomach condition and began waking up early to make me soothing oatmeal, which he delivered to my door.

My friends all marveled at how I had found the perfect boyfriend who adored me entirely.

I had no idea about his history with Catherina. Had I known, I would never have gotten involved with him in the first place.

I had already endured the nightmare of her stealing my parents and my brother. The thought of anyone close to me having even the slightest tie to Catherina was unbearable.

Five months into my pregnancy, when Catherina returned from abroad, I discovered they had been in love with each other in the past.

The day Catherina returned, I saw Callum truly flustered for the first time. He smoked on the balcony all night.

This was the same man who had quit smoking for months for the sake of our baby.

Perhaps I should have known that with Catherina back, I never stood a chance.

When I woke in the morning, I found Callum bustling about in the kitchen after his sleepless night.

Seeing me, he eagerly served me a bowl of oatmeal.

“Babe, have some of this savory oatmeal I made for you. It’s good for your stomach.”

My heart warmed momentarily.

But then my gaze turned cold when I spotted the insulated lunch bag in his hand.

His face faltered as he quickly hid it behind his back.

“Babe, don’t misunderstand. Mom said Catherina has no appetite and asked me to make some oatmeal for her, too.”

I gave him a bleak smile.

“Callum, while cooking this oatmeal, were you thinking of your pregnant wife or your depressed ex-girlfriend who keeps threatening you with suicide?”