Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 237(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
This can’t be my life. It can’t be the way my world would end. How could such highs morph into such lows so quickly? Where did I go wrong? Which part of the plan went awry?
How could my reality look so different from the one I had mapped out for myself? He was well-established when we met. Handsome, fun, the go-to guy at the company. Everyone loved him and sang his praise.
He was charismatic and treated me like a queen, the way I always wanted and deserved. It didn’t matter that he was married with a child; why should I care? It’s survival of the fittest; not my fault some dumb bitch couldn’t keep her husband happy.
He showered me with attention and gifts, swept me off my feet, and promised me the world. I told him he couldn’t sleep with her anymore; it was hurtful for me. He promised that they were in a dead bedroom long before I came along because he didn’t find her attractive after the birth of his son.
He promised that we would take his son and raise him ourselves because he painted her as unstable and unfit. I bought it all. He was right, it’s what I wanted to hear. When she turned up pregnant, I was livid, but he swore she got him drunk and took advantage.
I wanted to murder her for interrupting the life I was planning. But it was all lies. I looked over at him and felt my heart drop. He didn’t even look like the same person. It had only been a year and some; how much worse was this going to get before it got better? If it ever got better.
He'd gained weight, and so did I. I doubt he remembers the last time he took a shower; that sour smell reached me across the room. I threw up in my mouth and touched my busted lip with my tongue. Is this how the abuse starts? How do I get it to end?
I’m sure people are laughing. They probably think I’m getting what I deserve. But no one deserves this; I didn’t sign up for any of this. It’s not fair….
“I don’t hear no pots and pans moving about. Dinner ain’t gonna cook itself, you lazy bitch.” Words burned my tongue. Words that I knew were going to fall on deaf ears.
I walked into the kitchen like a robot and got out the saucepan. I got out the ingredients for dinner, doing it by rote. These days, he only eats one meal. Steak and potatoes. He’s been harping on me to get it right the way Rachel used to make it.
Everything is about Rachel these days. It seems like she could do no wrong when they were married, which begs the question, why did he cheat with me?
I peeled potatoes at the sink while blinded by tears as I looked out the back window into nothingness. I moved around the kitchen, grabbing things here and there; every once in a while, I’d look over at where he sat yelling at the TV and he hadn’t moved.
By the time dinner was ready, I was numb. I plated out his food and took it to him, where he sat like a lug. “I hope you made something sweet for dessert.” If looks could kill, this bastard would be dead on arrival.
I went back to the kitchen, forgetting my dinner, which was growing cold, as I whipped up a batch of brownies from a box mix. I glared at his back as I mixed the ingredients in a bowl. Like your ass need any more sweets, lard ass.
Oh, I hate him. I hate his ever-loving guts. I Spat in the mix and kept stirring. While the brownies were baking I heated up my dinner in the microwave and ate standing at the kitchen counter. Once the brownies were ready, I didn’t let them cool. I put a scoop of ice cream on a square and covered it with whipped cream before taking it to him.
His plate had been scraped clean. Only the bone from the last T-bone steak was left with nothing on it, but the bastard would still complain before the night was over. He gobbled down the brownie, and I smiled.
He looked up as if just realizing that I was standing there. “What do you want bitch? You should be in there on your computer looking for your next job.” He turned up the TV and went back to his whisky as I walked away.
That night, I laid there while he humped away on top of me, feeling nothing. I was empty inside. I didn’t even have any more tears left at this point, just a choked-up feeling like hands around my throat squeezing me to death.
I let him use my body any way he wanted because I didn’t care. He’d been growing more and more sadistic lately, and I thought it was because Rachel hadn’t been posting, and he couldn’t get his daily fix. But now I realize that it’s just who he is now.