The Nasty Side of Love

After Blake spoke, I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his.

We had been in love for four years and married for five. We had shared the best years of our youth together.

I never imagined it would come to this.

I gently touched my stomach. I was almost three months pregnant now.

But Blake acted as though he couldn't see it, his expression tense as he demanded, "I'm giving you one last chance. Where did she go?"

I fought the urge to laugh bitterly.

That one reckless decision of mine had sealed the fate of my entire family.

"Let my parents go, and I'll tell you."

Blake nodded. He took a step forward, and before I could react, his hand shot out and gripped my throat, forcing me to look up at him.

"Don't test my patience, Karen.

"I'll find Myra. It's only a matter of time. What right do you have to make demands?"

The suffocating pressure made me gag instinctively, my face flushed as my veins pulsed violently.

I clenched my jaw, a rush of fear and despair sweeping over me, sending cold tremors through my body.

But despite it all, I mustered every last ounce of strength to force out, "Are you going to make my father kneel before you, then? That's my father, for Heaven's sake!"

Blake's expression remained blank, his grip on me tightening with a strength that felt almost inhuman.

Tears streamed down my face as I fixed my gaze on him, unable to look away from the madness and darkness that consumed his eyes.

I had no doubt he would've strangled me without a second thought—all for the sake of another woman.

Just as the edges of my vision began to darken, Blake finally loosened his grip.

I gasped for air, my body trembling in the aftermath of fear as I curled into a tight ball on the couch.

In that fleeting moment, memories from the past came crashing back, flooding my mind.

I couldn't hold it in any longer. My carefully built walls shattered, and I broke down in uncontrollable sobs.

I wept for a past I could never reclaim, for a marriage that had long since lost its meaning.

But more than anything, I cried for the pathetic, broken person I had become.

Blake stood there, his gaze unyielding and emotionless.

Before I could even catch my breath, he seized my chin once more, his voice laced with venom.

"I'll ask you one last time. Where did you send Myra?"

Moments later, Blake turned and walked away, taking with him the information I had given.

In that fleeting instant, a wave of relief and joy washed over his face.

It hit me then—my husband had already given himself to another woman.

I wiped away my tears and immediately contacted my parents, urgently preparing for an overnight move.

I had expected my father to scold me, but instead, he comforted me, his voice thick with emotion. "Karen, you've endured so much. I don't blame you. We'll leave."

When I hung up, an overwhelming wave of guilt and despair engulfed me whole.

Blake and I had fallen in love during our university days and married soon after graduation.

The Sullivan family was rich and powerful, far beyond anything my father could've ever imagined being connected to.

From the very beginning, he had been uneasy, worried that I'd be mistreated or end up hurt.

My family had no status, no influence. There was no one who could shield me if things went wrong.

But back then, I'd swore to my father that Blake loved me enough to never let me suffer.