Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Her Current Reality 

ISABELLA

Six years had passed since that day in the hospital, and the hopeful young woman I'd been at seventeen was gone, replaced by the husk of my empty shell at twenty-three, I only lived in the shadows of my own home, invisible to all except when I needed to attend to Tommy and Sean—Cassandra and my husband's sons.

The morning sun was spreading its rays through the open windows, illuminating the whole kitchen for me as I prepared their breakfast, my hands going through the familiar routine that had characterized my life. 

Cut the crusts off Tommy's toast. Slice Sean's apple into exactly eight pieces. Don't let them see the fresh bruises on my wrists where Cassandra had grabbed me yesterday.

The boys were talking excitedly at the kitchen table, with the enthusiasm and energy that were normally present in five years old. They were beautiful children, and despite everything, I'd grown to love them. It wasn't their fault their mother was a monster.

"Isabella!" Cassandra's voice rang out from the foyer, filled with irritation. "Where are you?"

I set down the knife I'd been using and hurried to meet her, keeping my eyes on the ground. Experience had taught me that eye contact was seen as fighting back and defiance and there was punishment for that as well.

Cassandra stood in the marble entryway, dressed as immaculate as ever.

"The boys' rooms are a disaster," she said without skipping a bit as soon as she saw her. 

"I expect them cleaned properly before I return from my pilates class."

"Of course," I replied quietly, nodding my head. "I cleaned them yesterday, but—"

The slap came out of nowhere, striking me with enough force to send me stumbling backward.

"Don't make excuses," she snarled, glaring at me with disgust apparent on her features as she added with a mockery tone. "Just do your job."

My cheek burned from pain, but I didn't dare touch it. Touching it would have been asking for more from her.

"Yes, ma'am."

She stepped closer, and I caught that strange scent that always clung to her. It smelled bad and made my skin crawl.

 "You know, Isabella, sometimes I wonder if Max made a mistake keeping you around. You're so... fragile."

Her hand reached out again quicker than I anticipated, as I flinched but this time she grabbed my wrist.

It was the same one she'd twisted yesterday. Her grip was so strong, like she had steel for fingers that squeezed my bones 

I bit back a whimper as I felt something crack.

"Fragile things break so easily," she whispered, increasing the pressure until I was beginning to see dark spots in my vision.

"Cassandra?" Max's voice came from the top of the stairs, breaking the moment as he spoke.

 "Are you ready to go?"

She released me immediately, switching to a pleasant smile as she looked at Max. "Just giving Isabella some instructions, darling. You know how forgetful she can be."

Max descended the stairs slowly like someone who seemed to have the world at his fingertips. At forty-four, he was still handsome, but there was something different about him now..things that I had noticed during the six years I have been here. There were times when his eyes seemed to glow red in certain light. 

 And his strength...

I'd learned not to question the inhuman strength both he and Cassandra possessed. The first time I'd seen Max bend a steel wrench with his bare hands, I'd convinced myself I'd imagined it. 

When Cassandra had thrown me across a room during one of her rages, I'd told myself adrenaline was the reason behind it and the fact that I had been starved so I was thinner than usual and barely had any considerable body weight.

"Don't be too hard on her," Max said mildly, but his eyes held a warning in them.

"We need her functional."

It was the closest thing to protection I'd received in years.

After they left, I returned to the kitchen to find the boys had finished their breakfast. I sent them to play in the living room while I cleaned up, my injured hand delaying my efficiency by 50% as I had to move slowly to not aggravate my injuries. It was broken and I knew i was going to have this pain for the next two months before it healed enough to be usable.

As I loaded the dishwasher, I allowed myself to have a bit of hope. Today was our anniversary—six years since our wedding day. Perhaps Max would be considerate to give me what he promised.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty house as nobody seemed to be around. I didn't put much thought into it and went on with my daily chores.

After doing my chores in the kitchen and spending , I came across a note in Cassandra's handwriting that was taped to the fridge: "Taking my boys to visit Luna Eliza. Back late. Don't wait up. -C"

The possessive emphasis on "my boys" stung, but I pushed the pain aside. This was perfect, actually. With Cassandra and the twins gone, I could focus on planning my anniversary with my husband.

Maybe tonight I could finally ask him about the child he'd promised. That was the only light that was waiting for me at the end of the tunnel.

I spent the morning cleaning the house with more energy than I had used in a long while. I hummed a song underneath my breath as, I drove to the market to buy groceries to prepare Max's favorite meal. 

The elderly butcher gave me an odd look when I struggled to grip the shopping basket with my injured wrist, but I smiled and deflected his concern. 

When I got back home I threw myself into making his food and cooking his favorite dessert for three hours making sure that nothing got burned.

At three o'clock, I sent him a revised text that has passed fifteen reviews and different assumptions about what it could read to him: "Happy Anniversary, darling. I've prepared something special for tonight. Just the two of us?"

He didn't reply immediately, but that wasn't unusual. Max was going to see it eventually.

By five, the dining room looked like a picture out of a magazine as I had arranged the place with flowers and decorations. I even brought a watch for him, the kind that I noticed he had been eyeing lately but didn't buy as he kept spending his money on Cassandra. But I noticed it.

After that I changed into the navy dress he'd once complimented during the first month of our marriage. He said it brought out my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I nodded my head. Everything was ready. Only to wait for his arrival.

At six, I tried calling. Straight to voicemail. I left a bright message, keeping my voice steady: "Hi it's me. Just wondering when you'll be home. I have a surprise waiting."