Two nights had passed in complete silence from everyone before my phone finally lit up with a Gmail notification. It was from my mother mrs Patrick. My chest fluttered for a moment, thinking maybe she was just reaching out on me because something in her heart finally nudged her to check in on me.
But as I opened the gmail message, the hope rush out of me.
The message stated: "Hello Susanna, how have you been doing? How is your marriage going? Hope there are no problems? Is Kylan Everest's family nice to you?"
That last question hit me like a slap on my face.
Was she serious?
After all this long time, the first thing she asked wasn't if I was happy, or safe, or even alive inside this marriage but whether Kylan's family was being "nice" to me. As if their politeness somehow measured my well being.
I sat there for a while, staring at her words, my stomach tightening with anger. I didn't want to respond anytime sooner. I wanted to let her wait the way I had long waited before she checked up on me, anything, from her. But the truth was, this was the only message I'd received in days. The only voice from outside this heavy, quiet life I was trapped in.
So I replied.
"All is fine."
That was a lie. A well-practiced one.
Because nothing here was fine I just reply to cut her off.
Back to the plan. A reckless suggestion I'd been circling in my mind like a wounded animal.
I thought what if I give him what he want the most? Sex Control him Obedience and he is always calm when it come to sex. He always seemed most satisfied in those moments, like it was the only time he felt in charge, the only time he softened.
Maybe if I let him think I'm playing along, he'll eventually grow tired of the game. Maybe he'll cast me aside his decision, not mine. And that would be freedom, wouldn't it?
But the thought makes me feel sick and too weak. I can't tell if I'm being strategic or just desperate I. This moment now. I hate that this is even something I'm considering. I'm standing at the edge of something that feels dangerous, humiliating, and I'm still not sure if I'll jump.
God knows. Actually, I've thought of other many ways out. Real escape plans. But this marriage look like a prison, he doesn't have any easy exits. Every door I push feels locked from the outside.
Sometimes I've imagined selling off one of his most valuable property behind his back, just enough to set him off. Maybe then he'll say those magic words: "I'm done with you." And let me go for free.
Maybe then I'll be free. Maybe.
But even that plan feels like walking barefoot through broken glass risky, painful, horrible, and no guarantee it'll lead anywhere but deeper into the mess.
And still, I keep thinking. Because I have to find a way out of Kylan Everest house.
There were moments when the darkness whispered the unthinkable to end it all. But no, that isn't an option. I still crave for better life. I want to breathe deeply, laugh loudly, and chase my own dreams under the sun. I'm not done here, not even close or near. But I've been thinking more and more about finding a job to do something that's mine, something that allows me to live boldly and freely, without being tethered to Kylan Everest's fortune like some golden chain.
The state university is about to begin a new round of hiring, of new staff and I'm preparing to apply. It feels like a flicker of hope like maybe, just maybe, this could be my stepping stone. I'm praying that I'll be chosen, that I'll get the chance to start fresh, to carve out something for myself either small or big. The thought alone fills me with nervous energy and cautious excitement.
I don't know how things will unfold in the nearest future, and that uncertainty is its own kind of weight. But until then, let's see.I'm choosing to find peace where I can. I'm choosing to let myself smile, to surround myself with little comforts, to breathe a little easier. I owe myself that much for now, I just want to be okay and happy.
These thoughts swarm my mind like a sea full of restless fish darting, circling, never still. Ever since I get married Kylan Everest, peace has felt like a stranger o my life. My mind hasn't known rest for a long time. It's been a storm of doubts, dreams, questions waves crashing over everything I once thought was certain.
"I'll find a way," I said aloud, not even realizing the words had escaped my lips and echo. They came out in a soft, trembling voice, edged with a hope in me I didn't know I still had. Deep down, I want to believe. I need to believe that my life can be more better than this, and more than just being married to Kylan Everest, trapped in a beautiful prison built with his wealth and silence.
Anyways, if I'm going to survive this, I have to be very strong. Not just strong, clever and active. Kylan Everest is a highly intelligent man. He knows how to twist things with words and expressions, how to corner you with silence. The evening has fallen now, and the shadows stretch longer across the walls. The tension is thick. I know any moment from now, Kylan Everest will walk through that door, and something will go wrong again. Something always does.
I never know what version of him I'll get today again. A sigh, a stare, a word it could all ignite something. Just seeing him beside me feels like standing on a battlefield. My heart beats like a war drum whenever he's near. It's not love anymore. It's survival.
His words still echo in my mind always, chilling and unforgettable: "Susanna, you've declared war. Hope you're ready for what comes next." He didn't shout. He didn't flinch. He said it like a statement cold, final. Since then, I've been living in a quiet, endless suspense, never knowing what his next move might be.
He arrived not long after I sat to watch the TV show of American got talent. I greeted him in a romantic way, forcing a smile, pressing into him with a hug that felt as wrong as it did necessary. My arms wrapped around him, but my body screamed no. Still, I played my part polite, romantic, obedient.
He didn't say a word to me. No warmth, no response. Just that same tight,and bad expression, unfriendly face he wears like armor. His silence slapped harder than any insult.
The way he brushes past me with the eye expression like I'm not even there makes me wonder if I ever was.
He walked past me, straight into the bedroom, and I followed like a ghost chasing life. Like someone trying to prove, I still exist.
He sat on the edge of the bed, back hunched, eyes glued to his phone. I sat beside him, like I was waiting for crumbs some kind of attention, some gesture that I still mattered about.
A minute later, his phone rang. Ohh, I can see Kylan Everest just get the latest iPhone.
Probably business. I didn't care. He didn't look up, didn't acknowledge me. I might as well have been the pillow next to him.
I left the room like a stranger, holding my breath until I could finally let it out in the living room. I dropped into the chair like a body collapsing into grief. I felt unwanted, unseen. But no I reminded myself I'm not broken. I'm not powerless. I refuse to be.
I picked up my phone, desperate for distraction and every other related to it, and there it was a message. Gmail. An old classmate from high school. Just seeing the name pulled something soft out of me, a forgotten version of myself from before all this… before Kylan.
I got up and stepped into the sitting room again, but now something was different in the sitting. A rich, warm scent filled the air freshly baked bread or maybe meat pie The smell wrapped around me like an old memory.
I glanced around to see what could be. There it was on the center table, inside a transparent white container. A soft pastry. I thought it was a meat pie at first. I stepped closer, drawn to it like a moth to light.
I picked it up. It was still warm in my hand. Not a meat pie, but a small cake fresh, soft, golden. The aroma was sweet and buttery. My mouth watered instantly it has been long I tasted such cake.
I knew it wasn't there before, I vividly remember. Kylan Everest must've brought it home, maybe from a bakery or a supermarket. That little gesture almost made me wonder: Was it for me? I don't think, because Kylan Everest is not that nice.
But I hesitated. I wanted to taste it, desperately. Yet I didn't know what Kylan Everest would say if he found out. With him, even small things become big crimes.
I crept back to his bedroom, open the door gently and peeked in. He was already asleep face down, unmoving, like a fallen tree. Exhaustion had taken him. Maybe… maybe I could have this one thing now that is gone for sleeping.
Back in the sitting room, I took the first bite. Then another. The cake melted on my tongue, sweet and warm. For the first time in days, something felt good.
What a great taste! Almost done eating it.
Then I heard it footsteps. Heavy. Measured. Coming closer. My heart stopped. I froze, the cake halfway to my mouth. I already knew it was Kylan Everest no doubt.
He walked in gently, went straight to the center table. The container was gone. The cake was gone.
He furiously around the sitting room with his eyes wide open
Then he turned to me. His eyes locked onto mine. I still had the container in my hand. There was no hiding it now a clear evidence showed.
He stormed over, eyes blazing. For a moment, I thought he'd hit me. His hand rose sharp, fast. But then it just stopped… suspended in the air like something snapped in him.
His face burned with rage. He said nothing loudly but thousand silently. Just turned, walked away, and slammed the entrance door behind him so hard the walls trembled.
I waited a moment, then tried the door. Locked. He'd locked me in. Over a piece of cake.
I leaned against the door for some minutes, staring at the empty room around me. Locked up like a prisoner for tasting sweetness in a bitter life. Is this what it's come to?
Well, It was just a piece of cake but in this house, even sweetness has consequences.
It's late now. The night stretches ahead like a question I'm too afraid to answer. Maybe he'll unlock the door before morning. Maybe he won't. I want to sleep, but I don't trust the darkness. Not with him. Not tonight.
Because if Kylan Everest returns in the middle of the night…
what kind of storm will he bring with him?