He punches me, and I feel my lip split as blood fills my mouth.
But it barely registers before he comes at me again.
And again.
I could try to fight back, but what is the point?
He doesn’t care where he hits.
Usually, he’s more careful, he makes sure most of the damage stays hidden.
Tonight, he’s too far gone, too consumed by rage.
But that’s not the only reason.
He doesn’t need to be careful anymore.
I won’t be returning to the academy any time soon.
If ever.
Not after what I’ve done in his eyes.
So it no longer matters if the bruises show.
There will be no one left to see them.
“Fucking whore. You’ve sunk so low you fucked my son.”
His foot slams into my stomach and bile surges up my throat. I barely manage to keep it down.
Hit after hit follows.
My stomach, ribs, my chest, head.
Anywhere he can reach.
I’m dizzy.
So dizzy, this can’t be normal.
The room tilts and spins, and I cling to consciousness with everything I have.
As for not vomiting?
I failed at that around the fourth kick to my stomach.
Or maybe the third blow to my head.
It’s hard to tell.
“Please... stop,” I croak.
But he either doesn’t hear me or doesn’t care.
“I told you to stay away from him. You’re lucky our marriage still isn’t public knowledge, because otherwise I’d have no choice but to kill you.”
Death doesn’t sound so terrible right now.
