chapter 2

Rose

The pain in my head dragged me out of sleep like a heavy hand yanking me back into reality.

I winced as I sat up, my fingers pressing against my temples. It felt like my skull was splitting. 

I turned my head slowly to the side and glanced at the clock.

5:15 a.m.

I didn't even know if I slept at all.

I couldn’t remember walking into the house last night… I just remembered the stares, the whispers, the laughter and Lucas' voice echoing in my ears, calling me fat, ugly, useless… right in front of everyone.

I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to push his voice out of my head... but it clung to me like a second skin.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I thought to myself. "Where did I go wrong?"

Dragging my feet, I walked to the tall mirror standing in the corner of the room. I stared at my reflection for a long time, longer than I ever dared to before. My eyes looked tired. My face… empty.

Slowly, I lifted my oversized shirt and stared at the scar that curved across my stomach, the scar that changed everything.

I ran my fingers gently over it. The skin there has healed years ago, but the pain, the shame, they never truly left. That mark… was the beginning of Lucas’s hatred.

I wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t always this… big. I used to be beautiful. That’s what everyone used to say. Even Lucas. He used to call me his queen, his angel, his everything. But everything changed when I got pregnant with Eva.

The pregnancy wasn’t easy. I gained so much weight, my body changed faster than I could understand. And during delivery, I almost died. There were complications. I remember the doctors rushing around, Lucas holding my hand tightly.

They said they had to do a C-section. It was the only way to save me and the baby.

We agreed.

The surgery left me with this scar… and a body I didn’t recognize anymore.

When we came home from the hospital, Lucas was happy. He smiled, kissed my forehead, and held Eva like a treasure. He called me strong. Beautiful. Brave. But it didn’t last.

Six months later, he started changing. He stopped looking at me the way he used to. He flinched whenever he saw my stomach.

One night, he looked at me after I came out of the shower and said, “God, Rose, your scar is disgusting. Can’t you cover it up?”

I remember freezing. I remember holding back tears and telling myself maybe he was just tired. But it didn’t stop there.

He began to complain about my stomach, the same stomach that carried our child. He said it was ugly, loose, not like it used to be. I used to be sexy, and now I look like a sack of rice.

I’ve always loved food. I used to enjoy trying new dishes, eating snacks while watching movies, and baking sweets for fun. But after he called me fat over and over, saying I ate like a pig, I stopped. I stopped eating regularly. Some days, I only ate once; other days, I just drank water and forced myself to sleep through hunger.

That’s how I got ulcers.

 When I went to the hospital, the doctor explained it kindly. He said my stomach would go down, but it would take time. Every woman’s body is different. I just needed patience. But five years passed, and nothing changed.

Lucas grew crueler with every passing day. He started insulting me in front of Eva, and at first, she looked confused, maybe even sorry for me. But as time went on, she started copying him

I could see it in her eyes, she didn’t admire me anymore. She saw me the way Lucas did: as an ugly pig.

It broke me in ways I can’t explain.

It only got worse when Catherine came into the picture. Lucas called her his best friend, but I call that a joke

He took her everywhere, to events, meetings, and dinners. She sat beside him in the car. Walked beside him in public. And Eva? She adored her. Followed her like a shadow.

I became invisible in my own home. My voice didn’t matter. My presence didn’t matter. My pain didn’t matter.

I lost myself and I lost my self-worth.

You don’t know what it feels like to be mocked by your own family, to be called names by the same people you gave your life for. I felt like I was sinking every day, drowning in silence and shame.

Sometimes when I went out to buy something, strangers would ask when I was due, thinking I was pregnant. I would force a smile and walk away, but when I was with Lucas or Eva, they would be the first to laugh.

It burned more than any wound.

I barely recognized myself anymore. I avoided mirrors. I stopped dressing up. I felt stupid, pathetic, and invisible. But I wasn’t ready to give up on my family… not yet. Especially not Eva. I nearly died giving birth to her. That pain has to mean something.

God, I whispered, placing my palm on my chest, help me find myself again.

I sighed deeply and walked into the bathroom. The mirror fogged from the steam, hiding my reflection for once.

After freshening up, I walked downstairs, only to be greeted by silence. The kind that squeezes your chest. 

I didn’t even know if my husband or daughter had returned home last night. And strangely, I didn’t bother to check.

I dragged myself to the kitchen and prepared breakfast, eggs, toasted bread, and tea like a ghost moving through her own house. But when the food was done, I just stared at it. My stomach turned.

I reached for a dry snack, a small bite just to stop my stomach from aching again. Real food scares me now. The fear of being called fat had buried my hunger.

Still chewing, I glanced at the clock. It was still early and a bit dark outside. But this is the only time I could go to the gym without being seen.

I grabbed my keys and stepped out of the house. This was exactly how I liked it. No curious eyes. No pitying stares. Just the dark to hide me.

I drove to the private gym just outside our estate, a grand, silent mansion with a world-class gym inside. The security guard gave me a nod and handed me the keys like always. I paid him well to keep my visits secret.

I couldn’t go to public gyms anymore. The stares. The whispers. The people are mistaking me for a pregnant woman. Gush, the shame is just too much.

I stepped into the gym and closed the door behind me. The room was spotless. The equipment shone under the ceiling lights.

This place has become my secret world. My only place of hope.

I walked over to the treadmill and stared at it like it was a battlefield.

If shedding this fat, if transforming myself, is the only way to be loved again by my husband and my daughter, then I’ll do it. Even if it kills me.

I stepped onto the treadmill and switched it on, starting slow.

But I didn’t want to be slow today.

I wanted results.

I increased the speed. Then more. Then faster. I ran with every ounce of pain in me, every insult, every cold stare, every night alone. The machine roared beneath me, my feet pounding harder, my breath catching.

I was so lost in my painful thoughts that I didn't know when...  I lost control.

I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened. My legs stumbled. I tried to stop it, to press the button... but everything blurred.

I slipped, screaming silently as I braced myself for the pain of hitting the ground, but I never felt it.

Instead, I felt strong arms catch me, wrapping around my waist with shocking gentleness.

My heart thundered.

I knew I was the only one here, so who could it be?

I slowly opened my eyes and froze when I saw a handsome face staring at me.

God, He was breathtaking.