Chapter 5

No matter how exhausted I was from crying and no matter how much pain I felt—both physically and emotionally—I still couldn't bring myself to sleep.

I stayed seated at the study desk in our room, the one I had arranged for myself a long time ago so I could at least have something to keep me occupied. I picked up my old schoolbooks and began reading, as though the familiar pages could somehow help me escape the problems waiting outside my bedroom door.

When I eventually grew tired of reading, I started scrolling through my F******k feed instead. News articles, memes, and random rants passed before my eyes. Some of them caught my interest, while others barely registered in my mind, and I kept hoping that staring at my phone long enough would eventually make me sleepy.

But it didn't.

In the end, I turned off my phone and decided to finally try sleeping when several soft knocks suddenly came from the door.

I doubted it was Gavin.

He never knocked.

Even though I felt nervous, I slowly walked toward the door and opened it.

I was surprised to find the quiet guy standing outside.

He gave me a small, shy smile as the door opened, and I couldn't help the awkwardness that immediately settled between us.

"U-um... do you need something?" I asked uncertainly, still wondering why he was standing outside my room.

"The guys are all passed out. They're pretty drunk," he explained.

I stepped back slightly and looked him over.

"You seem perfectly fine," I pointed out, eyeing him suspiciously.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed to be talking to me.

"I didn't drink much. My stomach can't really handle alcohol anyway."

I nodded, although the silence that followed only made the situation feel even more awkward.

"Anyway, I just came upstairs to say goodbye. I have to head out first."

I gave him a polite smile and nodded.

"Oh, okay. Thank you. Take care."

Honestly, I didn't know what else to say.

Besides... why did he even feel the need to say goodbye to me?

"I'm Enos, by the way." He smiled gently. "It's nice to meet you, Alia."

I returned his smile and gave him a small nod.

"N-Nice to meet you too, Enos."

"Oh, and by the way—"

He was about to turn around and leave when he suddenly stopped.

Then he glanced back at me.

"That steak tasted amazing. It honestly makes me wish I had a wife who could cook like that."

He said it so casually before letting out a soft laugh.

Heat immediately crept into my cheeks, and I couldn't stop the shy smile that appeared on my face.

"T-Thank you. I'm not really that good, though. I just learned from YouTube."

I honestly hadn't expected any of them to eat what I had cooked.

I hadn't even told Gavin that I had prepared dinner.

"Alright, then. I'll get going now."

This time, he really said goodbye, and I simply stood there watching as he walked downstairs.

After he disappeared from sight, I slowly closed the door.

And somehow, I found myself wishing Gavin would say things like that to me, too. But I already knew that would probably remain nothing more than wishful thinking.

Not once had Gavin ever thanked me for cooking.

Not once had he complimented any of the meals I had prepared for him.

And somehow, hearing a simple compliment from a stranger made me realize just how desperately I had been waiting to hear the same words from my own husband.

When hunger finally became impossible to ignore, I decided to go downstairs and find something to eat. I passed by the three men in the living room, all of them completely wasted. Rick was sprawled across the long sofa, Lucas had passed out on the floor, and Gavin was slumped in a single armchair, looking like he was deeply asleep as well.

I moved quietly toward the kitchen and searched through the refrigerator, but nothing inside looked appealing to me. Instead, I grabbed a pack of instant noodles from one of the cabinets. I boiled some water and waited for a few minutes until they were finally ready.

I poured myself a glass of fresh milk and quietly sat down at the table to eat.

"You cook for everyone else, yet you can't even make yourself a proper dinner? You're really pathetic."

I had barely taken my first bite when Gavin's voice suddenly came from behind me. I nearly choked, coughing so hard that I felt like a piece of noodle had somehow gone up my nose.

I immediately turned toward him.

His eyes were bloodshot and heavy as he slowly made his way toward the refrigerator, his steps slightly unsteady. He grabbed a pitcher and poured himself a glass of cold water.

"You're still drunk. Do you want some coffee?"

I ignored what he had said and stood up to reach for the cupboard instead.

"Don't bother."

He snorted.

My hand froze around the cabinet handle.

"You need it—"

I quickly turned toward him and nearly gasped.

He was suddenly standing only inches away from me.

I could feel his heavy, alcohol-scented breath against my skin.

The tension inside the kitchen snapped the moment his hand came down against the edge of the counter, trapping me between the cold marble behind me and the warmth of his body.

"I told you," Gavin rasped, his voice low enough to send a shiver through me.

"Don't bother."

But his eyes weren't cold anymore.

They were burning.

The scent of whiskey mixed with peppermint clouded my senses as he leaned closer, his gaze dropping toward my lips with an intensity that made my breath catch.

Before I could even think of something to say, he closed the distance between us.

The kiss came suddenly.

It was breathless and unexpected, like years of distance and unspoken tension had finally broken apart all at once. His lips met mine with a desperation that completely caught me off guard, pulling a soft sound of surprise from the back of my throat.

My hands, which had frozen from shock only seconds earlier, slowly found their way to his chest.

I clutched the fabric of his shirt as the rest of the world seemed to disappear around us.

One of his hands moved from the counter to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling gently in my hair as though he was trying to steady me. His kisses deepened, carrying an intensity that made my heart race, as if he were trying to erase the distance that had existed between us for so long.

Before I could even catch my breath properly, his hands moved to my waist.

He lifted me effortlessly.

Then he carried me upstairs, completely ignoring his drunken friends downstairs. There was something raw and impatient in the way he moved, as though he had finally stopped fighting against something he had been holding back.

When he pushed open the door to the master bedroom—the room I usually slept in alone—a small, dangerous flicker of hope came alive inside my chest.

Is this it?

Is he finally seeing me?

My head felt dizzy from everything happening.

My mind kept telling me that this was wrong... that when morning came, everything would probably return to the way it had always been.

But when had I ever learned to listen to myself?

This was the first time I had ever felt his warmth like this.

His touch wasn't heavy.

It wasn't painful.

There was no anger behind it.

Just warmth.

Just softness.

He gently lowered me onto the bed, and in the silence of the room, he leaned closer as his uneven breathing brushed against my skin. I gasped and closed my eyes, allowing myself—desperately and foolishly—to believe that, for once, I was finally the person he saw.

The one he wanted.

The one he had chosen... I thought.

But in an instant, everything changed. The gentle touches vanished, replaced by a sudden, rough aggression as he tried to pin me down. The sudden shift snapped me entirely out of the illusion.

"G-Gavin?" My voice trembled, matching the frantic pounding of my heart.

"Stay still," he muttered, his grip tightening hard on my waist, forcing me down. But I didn't comply, continuously fighting to break free from him.

"Gavin... I-I don't want to anymore," I said, on the verge of tears, still trying to pull myself into a proper position on the bed.

"I said stay still!" he bellowed in anger, pushing me harder against the bed.

Anxiety swirled violently in my stomach. This wasn't romance. This wasn't him finally seeing me.

"I-I don't want to... Gavin, wait. Stop, please!"

"Fuck it, Alia! Stop moving!" he barked, forcefully slapping me when I tried to turn my body away, throwing me right back into my previous position.

I cried even harder, my body shaking with pure terror. I never imagined we would ever come to this. He never dared touch me or kiss me before. There was never any intimacy; he always took his urges out on his other women. I never dreamed this kind of violence would be used to make me feel like less than a human.

"I-I don't want to anymore! Let me go, please!" I said, panicking as I gathered every ounce of my remaining strength to break free. I forced myself to kick him so he would let go, but he was far stronger than me.

"Stop trying, you're not gonna win over me," he warned.

"Stop it! You're hurting me! Please let me go! I-I can't do this!" I screamed, tears blinding my vision as I violently twisted beneath his weight.

"Dammit! I said stop resisting!" Gavin roared. He reached out, his hand heavily pinning my shoulder against the mattress to stop my struggling.

I felt helpless and weak, barely able to breathe. The fear overtaking my body gave me a sudden surge of adrenaline. With all my might, I twisted my body until one of my legs broke free. Using the last of my remaining strength, I kicked him squarely in the chest.

"Fuck!" Gavin roared in anger as the sheer force of my kick sent him stumbling backward.

Trembling uncontrollably, I wrapped the blanket tightly around myself and pressed my back against the headboard of the bed.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" he snarled once he recovered. "Since when did you learn to fight back against me, huh?!" Gavin sneered, stepping back toward the bed, his face flushed dark with wrath.

He lunged forward, his fingers clamping tightly around my jaw, forcing me to look up at him. I shrieked in terror and pain at his sudden grip.

"Ouch! G-Gavin, stop! That's enough, please!" I cried harder. I couldn't see his face clearly through the thick veil of my tears, but the absolute malice radiating from him was suffocating. "I told you I didn't want to... G-Gavin. I begged you, but you didn't listen," I sobbed out, my voice cracking under the pressure of his grip.

"Who the hell are you to stop me? And what if I don't?!" he snapped, his grip tightening until my teeth ground together.

I groaned in pain from his tight hold, my hands shaking as I clawed at his arm, desperately trying to pry his hand off. "G-Gavin... you're hurting me... please..."

"You're damn right it's going to hurt! You're my wife, Alia! Did you forget what your role is in this house?!" He let go of me violently.

Terrified, I scrambled away, fearing that a slap wouldn't be the only thing he'd do to me next.

"You're a total turn-off. Acting like you're so innocent! Who do you think you are, huh?! A saint?! This is your obligation! You belong to me, understand?! Whatever I want to do, you have no right to say no!" He hissed. I flinched when he looked ready to lash out at me again, but he stopped himself.

"I'm a human being, Gavin! You don't own me!" I shoved him away with all my might, sobbing from a volatile mix of anger and the deep ache of his disrespect.

"Just be thankful I already lost my interest in you, you fucking cunt!" He violently turned his back on me after screaming those words. Without another word, he aggressively snatched his shirt from the floor, throwing it over his shoulders. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

A bitter, muffled laugh escaped my lips, which slowly turned into a gut-wrenching sob. My tears flowed without end. The venom in his words felt like a physical blow, completely stripping me of my dignity.

I felt so incredibly dirty. Is this really all I am worth to him? An object he can use, control, and yell at whenever it doesn't obey him?

I clutched at my own hair, burying my face into my knees, wondering if there could possibly be any pain worse than what I was feeling right now. I had never felt like more of a loser in my entire life.