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Chapter 3

As Rachel and I drove home, the silence in the car was deafening. My cheek throbbed from the slap, and I was still in shock. I didn’t know what to say or do. When we pulled into the driveway, we both got out of the car.

Rachel went into the house first and sat down on a single sofa. I walked in, feeling the dark aura around the house. Fear gripped me.

"And where do you think you’re going?" Rachel asked, glaring at me.

"To my room," I answered, trembling in fear.

"So you think you can have peace after ruining my daughter-in-law’s life completely?" Rachel asked.

"I didn’t mean to," I cried.

"You didn’t mean to, but it happened. It’s your fault, and you will live with it for the rest of your life. I’ll keep torturing you and punishing you. I will make sure your stay here is hell. You will know no peace as long as I, Rachel, am alive. I will make sure I get justice for my daughter-in-law," Rachel vowed, glaring at me with so much anger, hatred, and resentment. If only she could kill me, I would have been dead a long time ago.

"But I’m your daughter-in-law, for Christ’s sake. I’ve had enough of your torture and punishments. Can’t you see that it’s not all my fault? Can’t you see that I tried saving us both? Can’t you see who’s lying or who is being betrayed here? I’m being punished for a crime I never committed in the first place, and I won’t take it from anyone anymore. I’ve had enough. Please, let me have my sanity back," I let my tears flow freely, overwhelmed with emotions, sadness clouding my life. My life had been ruined completely.

I ran into my room, crying my eyes out. When will this ever end? When will my torture ever end? Who will save me from these beasts? The more I thought about it, the more my tears flowed. What wrong had I done in my past life for God to punish me so much? The punishment was too much for me to bear. Slowly, I cried myself to sleep.

FOUR MONTHS LATER

I felt like a weary soul, waking up each morning already exhausted by the day ahead. I went through the motions of my life, but felt no joy or excitement. The world seemed grey and dull, and I felt disconnected from everyone and everything around me. Each day was the same, and I longed for something to change. But I didn’t have the energy to make a change, and I felt trapped in my routine. An extra four months had passed, making it a year now, but still no change. Alexander stayed at home to take care of another woman, and my mother-in-law made my life a living nightmare. This house was like a cage I had trapped myself in.

I was cleaning when Alexander stormed into the room, his face red with anger. He threw a stack of papers onto the table in front of me.

"I want you to sign these divorce papers," he said, his voice cold and harsh. "You know this marriage is over. Just sign them and get it over with."

I looked up at Alexander, feeling numb and empty. I reached for the pen, my hand shaking slightly. I looked down at the papers, my eyes glazing over the words. I couldn’t bring myself to read them. I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.

I looked up at Alexander, taking a deep breath. "Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "What did I do wrong?"

Alexander scoffed, his anger barely contained. "You know what you did," he said, his voice dripping with contempt. "You were never good enough for me. You’re a failure, just like your parents." I flinched, as if I had been slapped. I knew Alexander’s words were meant to hurt, and they did. But I also knew that deep down, he was hurting too.

As Alexander's words stung, I felt my heart break. I wanted to say something, to defend myself, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was stand there, feeling numb and broken.

Rachel spoke up, her voice stern and cold. "You’re not good enough for my son," she said, her eyes flashing with anger. "You never have been. Just sign the papers and get out of our lives."

I looked from Alexander to Rachel, feeling lost and alone.

As the tension in the room grew, the silence seemed to thicken. I felt as though I was suffocating, like the walls were closing in on me. I had to do something, to break the tension, to stop the pain. I looked down at the divorce papers, feeling numb and resigned. Slowly, I picked up the pen and started to sign my name. But as I did, I hesitated. I paused, the pen hovering over the paper. Suddenly, I felt a surge of emotion, a rush of energy. I signed the damn papers, slammed the pen down on the table, and stood up.

As I stood there, I knew I had to leave. I couldn’t stay in this toxic marriage any longer. I had signed the papers, and I was ready to start a new life. But I couldn’t bear to leave my daughter. I turned to Alexander and Rachel, my voice strong and determined.

"I’m leaving," I said. "But I’m taking my daughter with me. I won’t let her grow up in this environment. She deserves better."

Alexander’s face turned red with rage, but I didn’t back down. Rachel tried to protest, but I held firm.

The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. I had no daughter. I had lost my pregnancy. The loss hit me like a wave of grief, and I felt my strength falter. But I knew I couldn’t stay here. Not now, not after what had happened. Alexander saw the look on my face and felt a flicker of remorse. But it was too late. The damage was done.

"I’ll let you take your things," he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

As I packed my things, I found a hidden letter from Alexander. It said, "I KNOW WHAT YOU DID AND I WON’T LET YOU GET AWAY WITH IT." I tore the letter as soon as I finished reading it. I accidentally saw a figure looking at me from the other side of the building, but when I tried to confirm my doubt, the figure was gone, leaving me wondering whether I was seeing things or not.

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