Chapter 2

I closed my eyes, and tears slipped down my cheeks.

Not only because of the unbearable pain in my fingers, but because the part of my heart that had belonged to him for so long was slowly falling apart.

The car finally stopped.

We were home.

Shane carried me out of the car, took me straight to our bedroom, and laid me on the bed.

Then he brought out the first aid kit and patiently cleaned my wounds, applied ointment, and wrapped my fingers in bandages.

I watched him work, his eyes lowered and his long lashes casting faint shadows across his face.

There was a time when I'd fallen so deeply in love with that gentle side of him.

Now, it only made my blood run cold.

Once he finished bandaging my hand, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Get some rest. Don't go wandering around and make me worry, okay?”

His voice was gentle, but I knew it wasn't a request.

He picked up my phone and slipped it into his pocket.

“I'll hold on to this for now.”

The door closed softly behind him.

Then came the unmistakable click of a lock.

He'd locked me in.

Like a prisoner.

Outside, the sky was beginning to lighten.

I curled up on the bed, cradling my injured hand. But the pain in my fingers was nothing compared to what I felt in my chest.

I had no idea how much time had passed when I heard Shane speaking outside the door.

His voice was low and urgent.

“Don't be scared, Aria. I'll have enough for your treatment soon. I promise I won't let anything happen to you.”

Her treatment?

So that was all my stolen years, my health, and even my pain meant to him.

They were just ingredients for some twisted treatment to save another woman.

Fresh tears blurred my vision.

Ten years of marriage, and none of it mattered as much as the fact that she'd once saved his life.

My chest ached so badly I thought my heart might burst.

In that moment, hatred tangled with what little love I had left for him, growing until I could barely breathe.

I lay on the cold bed, waves of sharp pain shooting through my right hand.

Shane had done a careful job with the bandages. The gauze was spotless and white, but underneath it were three broken fingers.

Sunlight streamed through the window, yet I couldn't stop shivering.

I had no strength left, and my head was spinning.

It felt as though something had been drained out of me, leaving me completely hollow.

And this was only the beginning.

Shane came into the room again, carrying a bowl of oatmeal.

He sat beside me, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it to cool it down, and held it to my lips.

“Eat something, Wendy. You need to keep your strength up.”

His eyes were full of tenderness.

I turned my head away.

My stomach was in knots. I couldn't eat a thing.

He sighed and set the bowl aside.

Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the peachwood comb I used every day.

A few strands of my long hair were still caught between its teeth.

“Look at this.”

He ran his thumb over the comb, admiring it as though it were something precious.

“The shopkeeper said I can trade this for three nights of peaceful sleep for Aria.”

My eyes flew wide.

I lunged for the comb.

My mother had left that to me!

But before I could reach it, Shane pinned me down with ease.

His grip tightened around my wrist, sending a jolt of pain through me. I sucked in a sharp breath.

“Stop fighting me.”

His tone grew firmer. He still sounded gentle, but there was no mistaking the warning.

“It's just three nights of sleep. Going without sleep for three days won't kill you, but Aria can't afford to lose any more rest.”

I stared at him, my lips trembling.

I couldn't find the words.

How could he say something so cruel as if it were perfectly reasonable?

“Shane... I'm your wife.”

My voice finally came out, thick with tears.

He paused.

Then he reached over and wiped away my tears, his fingertips cold against my skin.

“I know. That's why I need you to help me.”

He held my gaze, his expression impossible to read.

“You've always had such a good heart, Wendy. Can you really stand by and let Aria suffer? She only ended up like this because she saved my life.”

There it was again.

The same excuse, over and over, as though repeating it enough times would make me accept whatever he did to me.

He left with the comb.

The door shut.

The lock clicked.

I collapsed back against the bed, tears running into my hair and leaving cold, damp patches on the pillow.

After that day, my health deteriorated rapidly.

I started getting dizzy for no reason, sometimes so badly that my vision would go black.

Purple bruises appeared all over my body. I had no idea where they came from, but even the slightest touch hurt.

Sometimes, just breathing was a struggle.

Shane began coming home more often.

But every time he returned, he took something else.

Sometimes it was a book I'd read so many times the pages were worn.

Other times, it was a necklace I wore almost every day.

And with every item he took, I grew a little weaker.

He always had an excuse.

He never even hesitated.

It was as if he weren't stealing my life away, piece by piece, but simply taking things that didn't matter.

I tried to fight back.

Once, I stood in the doorway and refused to let him leave with another one of my belongings.

He shoved me aside without the slightest effort.

I hit the floor, my forehead striking the corner of a table.

Pain exploded through my head, and bright spots danced across my vision.