Chapter 3

"Let's stop this fighting," Brett murmured, his chin resting on my shoulder. "Forget those unhappy things. We'll go back to how we were. Good?"

Our entwined shadows danced on the polished floor under the soft lamplight, and my heart softened shamefully.

But then, reality intruded. The chasm between us was already unbridgeable.

I wanted to tell him about Sylvie's pregnancy, but he preempted me. "What's this?"

He pulled his hand from my pocket, holding the bottle of pills I'd just bought. His warmth lingered on my skin, but I clenched my empty fist nervously.

I was both afraid and expectant that he would ask why I'd need them or if I was sick.

He didn't.

In my anxious silence, he stared at the label and let out a mocking chuckle. "I waited all this time, and you were at the hospital with Stanley?"

His warmth evaporated, replaced by icy detachment. "Otherwise, why would a heartless woman like you need these? Can't sleep without him?"

I met his gaze, the once-warm eyes now filled with blatant scorn.

Emotions choked me. My hand lashed out before I could think, connecting with his cheek in a resounding slap.

He reeled, a vivid red imprint blooming across his skin. As he turned his head back, his features contorted into something feral and unforgiving.

"Hit a nerve?" he sneered. "These past two years, how many times have you seen him behind my back? You think I'm a fool?"

Tears welled, scorching my eyes, but I held his gaze defiantly. "Then end this farce! I never desired this marriage in the first place!"

His composure cracked, pain flickering before hardening into rage. "Yes, I'm the idiot who clung to you!"

Seizing my arm, he dragged me to the bedroom, his fingers bruising as he ripped at my clothing in a blind fury. "All you crave is Stanley, isn't it? I'll make sure you never see him again!"

He bore down, parting my legs with forceful insistence.

My entreaties fell on deaf ears. Once more, he plunged me into an abyss of shadows and suffering.

...

Brett locked me up, staying at home and abandoning his corporate duties.

His new routine consisted of preparing meals, reading newspapers, pounding the treadmill during the day, and unlocking my door at night.

In the bathroom, I counted my remaining pills, the tiny capsules mocking my desperation.

Even with strict rationing, only a last dose remained. My body screamed in protest, every nerve alight with fire.

I shoved the pills into my mouth and swallowed them numbly.

Suddenly, the door handle rattled. Then it swung open to reveal Brett, his expression inscrutable in the harsh fluorescent light.

I strained to discern his features, but only his advancing shadow registered, enveloping me like a shroud.

His voice was eerily calm. "Why must you always defy me?"

I looked up, my voice and body trembling from the agony. "What do you want from me?"

He crouched, prying open my hand to seize the vial. Caressing my cheek with deceptive tenderness, he replied, "I want you to bear my child."

The world swam in hazy distortion, agony shredding my thoughts.

I clutched his wrist, begging, "Sylvie can do that for you. Give me back the bottle."

Silence met my plea.

Under my horrified watch, he discarded the bottle and ground it beneath his heel.

I crumpled to the tile, writhing. "Do you want me to die?"

Warm blood trickled from my nostrils, the coppery tang flooding my senses.

"You forced my hand!" he bellowed, hauling me up by my collar. "Why do I always fall short in your eyes? Why did your time abroad change you so profoundly? How could you stop loving me so easily? Answer me!"

Words failed me, lost in the haze.

A rhythmic patter came from the floor, viscous and ominous.

"Erika?" His voice wavered with sudden panic.

He cradled my face, his eyes wide with terror.

As darkness claimed me, his frantic cries pierced the fog. "What's going on? You're scaring me. Erika!"