Chapter 2

Nathan stroked her hair and said, "Don't worry. I know what I'm doing. Let that woman sit in there and think about what she's done. She won't dare touch you next time."

But there was no next time for me. I was already dead.

I broke down and wept.

It had happened on my birthday. I had spent the afternoon cooking, setting the whole table, and waiting for Nathan to come home so we could celebrate together. Yet even after the food went cold, he never came.

I was just about to call him when Annie showed up at the door. She knocked my birthday cake off the table and jabbed a finger at my forehead, her chin tipped up with contempt.

"You think just because you married Nate, he belongs to you? Let me make something clear—he's mine."

I had had enough. I shoved her hand away, and she spun around, hitting the corner of the dining table and crumpling to the floor. Blood poured from her nose.

Nathan walked in at exactly that moment. His face twisted with fury as he rounded on me. "Sherry Alvarez! You know Annie has hereditary hemophilia. Were you trying to kill her? What is wrong with you?"

Annie tugged at the hem of Nathan's pants, her eyes wide and glassy. "Nate, please don't blame Sherry. It was an accident… I'm sorry, Nate. I think I might be dying. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. Be good to Sherry…"

Nathan's face fell. He gathered Annie in his arms and rushed her to the hospital. He didn't look back once. I stood there watching them go, feeling something inside me go still and cold.

That night, Nathan dragged me out of bed while I was asleep. He was convinced that I deliberately hurt Annie, and he had decided on a punishment. He forced me into the fridge in the kitchen, and no matter how I fought him, he didn't stop.

"Please, don't do this! I'll die in there."

"You're scared? What about Annie? Did you stop to think she might die when you went after her?"

I was crying so hard that I could barely get the words out. "I didn't hurt Annie. She bumped into the table herself. I never pushed her. Please, you have to believe me!"

"So now you're going to stand there and tell me she did it to herself?" he snapped.

I gripped the edge of the fridge with both hands, refusing to let him close the door as though it were my lifeline.

"I'm pregnant. You can't do this to me!"

I had planned to tell him after we cut the birthday cake. It was supposed to be a surprise.

Nathan didn't believe me. I scrambled to pull the test results from my pocket and held them out to him.

"Look. I really am pregnant."

He snatched the paper, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it in my face. "Do you think I'm stupid, Sherry? I've never touched you. So tell me, whose is it?"

"It happened the night you came home drunk…"

His expression darkened into something ugly. "Don't lie to me. Tell me whose baby it is!"

Tears ran down my face as I shook my head. "It's yours. Honey, I would never lie about something like this."

Two months ago, he had come home from a work dinner completely drunk, pulling me close and refusing to let go. And somewhere in the blur of that night, we slept together.

The next morning, he swore up and down that nothing had happened, that he never would have touched me in that state. I assumed he was too embarrassed to admit it and let it go.

Nathan's hand shot out and closed around my throat. He forced me into the fridge, and I heard the sound of my bones snapping.

He threw in a sheet of paper and a pen and told me to write a thousand-word letter of apology to Annie. Only then would he let me out.

No matter how I begged, he didn't soften. He grew impatient with the noise and sealed my mouth shut with packing tape, then unplugged the fridge and had it moved down to the wine cellar.

Before he left, he made it clear to the entire household that no one was to let me out without his permission or there would be consequences.

Inside, there was barely enough room to breathe. I was folded into myself at an unnatural angle, the walls pressing in from every side.

Fear swallowed me whole. I never stopped pleading with him in my heart, even when I knew he couldn't hear me.

"Honey, please let me out. I don't want to be in here. I'm so scared. Please."