Without another word, Law drops his hand from my jaw, rises and walks out, the soft click of the door closing behind him booming through me like a death sentence.
A whimper leaves me, and with a trembling, frantic hand, I reach up and twist the lock into place.
Ilie curled on the shower floor, knees pulled tight against my naked chest, arms wrapped around my shins like they’re the only things still holding me together.
The water cascades over me in relentless streams, scorching my raw skin until it burns and wrinkles.
But no matter how long I stay here, it can’t cleanse the filthiness inside me. It can’t wash away the bruises blooming across my throat, the blood still crusting under my nose, or the shattered pieces of my sanity.
How long have I been here? Minutes? Hours?
The question feels distant, everything feels distant.
Was he right?
The thoughts continue to taunt me as fresh sobs wrack my body.
Was it all in my head? Every soft word, every time he kissed me, every promise… did I imagine it? Did I throw myself at him like the desperate girl he says I am?
Fuck, I trusted him too quickly.
Self-loathing coils tight inside me, squeezing until I can barely breathe.
God, I’m so pathetic. Just another woman always making excuses for the man who beats her.
Look at you, Blaire. Naked, broken, and cowering on the shower floor like a kicked dog still waiting for its owner to come back and fucking love it.
But even as the shame scalds hotter than the water, voices fight desperately against each other inside my fractured mind.
He needs help,something softer whispers, aching with hope.He’s sick, and he’s hurting. That wasn’t really him tonight. You saw the way he used to look at you, or you wouldn’t have married him.
He’s crying out for someone to save him. If you leave now, you’ll be abandoning the man you adored when he needs you most. You can fix this. You can love him through the darkness, just as he did you.
Another voice pierces through, colder and crueller, repeating Law’s words.
He meant every single word and blow of his fists. Every time he called you disgusting, worthless, and daddy’s damaged goods. You’re just fucking lying to yourself again, you stupid woman. He hates you. He’s always hated you. And if you keep making excuses, if you keep crawling back like the stupid, broken cunt he says you are… he’s going to kill you, slowly.
And one day, you won’t wake up on this fucking floor. You’ll be in a casket next to your mother.
I press my forehead harder against my knees, rocking slightly as the war rages inside me.
But I love him, even after everything… I still fucking love him. I have no one else but him. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just despise him the way he despises me?
Another wave of quiet, devastating sniffles tear through me. I feel small, empty and utterly alone all over again.
He played me like it was his favorite game—something breakable and disposable he could mess with until it finally shattered.
Suddenly, the lights die with a sharp, electric pop, and the shower cuts off mid-stream, plunging the entire bathroom into complete, suffocating pitch-black darkness.
The warmth vanishes instantly, replaced by a heavy, bone-deep chill that slams into me like a living thing.
My heart stutters, panic surging through my veins as I sit up, knees still drawn to my chest, straining my eyes against the void.
But there’s nothing but the distant rumble of thunder rolling outside, vibrating through the walls like a warning, letting me know we must be experiencing a power cut.
My breathing turns shallow as I fumble blindly along the tiles until my shaky fingers finally brush against a towel. Then, I snatch it and wrap it tightly around my naked body.
I rise on unsteady legs, water dripping from my skin onto the cold floor as I fumble desperately toward the door.
