Page 8

Valeria

M y life changed into a fairytale. Chester brought me flowers daily, drove Zara to school, bought us unnecessary expensive gifts, and supported my job hunt.

He never wanted me to work, but I didn't want to stay at home, and we frequently argued over it after Zara started kindergarten. However, he respected my decision this time and even got me a job interview for his friend's company.

I’d never dreamed of working as an assistant, but I had no choice if I wanted a paycheck.

Still, after a long conversation with a kind lady at HR, we both acknowledged this wasn't the position for me.

I was a leader, and answering phones and scheduling meetings was a waste of my potential.

Chester said nothing, but I knew he was satisfied with it.

After our huge argument, he left every time the tension between us started to grow, and he apologized basically for everything. Based on his behavior, I knew he was sorry for his outburst, and eventually, he admitted that he liked it much more when I was at home and not surrounded by gamblers.

We had a long night's talk about the violent part of our fight, and he swore never to react that way again.

I was cautious about his promises, though, and I didn't forgive him right away.

Yet when I saw him with Zara, as he cooked her favorite meals, did homework with her, and put her to bed every night, I couldn't stop myself from thinking of giving him and our marriage one last chance .

He was a master at persuading and manipulating me the way he wanted, and even when I knew he was doing it, I chose to ignore it.

And when I remembered when he almost choked me to death because I threatened to leave him, a chill ran up my spine, and I pushed every thought about getting a divorce deep into my subconscious.

I didn't have the courage to stand up to him.

Because Zara wasn't feeling well on the day of her birthday, the party was rescheduled for a week later.

Chester hired a clown and a magician; his mother's garden was covered with balloons and bubbles, food and drinks were everywhere, and a giant birthday cake crowned the entire show.

It was pompous and an absolute waste of money, but he didn't listen to my objections.

Zara's friends were astonished and enjoyed every bit of it, our daughter included. It was a fun day, and I couldn't be happier seeing a wide smile on my baby's beautiful face. When we got home, she was so tired that Chester carried her to bed, and she instantly fell asleep. I was equally exhausted.

"Leave it for tomorrow, baby doll," Chester said from the threshold when he returned from Zara's room and found me filling the dishwasher.

"Just a few more plates, and I'm done," I replied, feeling his stare on me. We hadn't been intimate for more than two weeks, and I felt like he was going to start something.

Throughout the entire day, he made some remarks, comments, and compliments about my appearance, and my suspicions were correct.

He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pressing his huge frame against me.

A chill ran up my spine, which wasn't pleasurable.

I didn't want to reject him, but I didn't feel okay with us having sex either. It was a complicated situation.

"You're as cold as ice toward me," he muttered into my ear, and I froze in his arms. Of course, he noticed the change in my behavior. Before I was happy with every touch, kiss, or look he gave me, but now, I avoided him as much as I could.

"And can you blame me?" I asked, turning to face him with his arms still holding me.

"No," he whispered regretfully, "I can't, Valeria." He leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. A tornado of emotions erupted in my chest, swirling into a vast mass of pure confusion .

"I need a shower," I mumbled, wriggling to get away from him, and thankfully, he let me go. I caught a glimpse of sadness behind his look, but I didn't stay to tell him something nice. I had to be alone with my erratic thoughts and try to put some order in them.

Once in the bathroom, I locked the door and sat on the toilet, hiding my face behind my trembling palms. All I wanted to do was disappear into thin air and never return.

But Chester made it perfectly clear he wouldn't let me go.

Not to mention Zara. I couldn't put her through such a trauma.

Still, was I able to give my husband another chance?

He wasn't all bad. He had flaws, and sometimes, he was moody and took his anger out on us, but I believed he cared. But whatever I told myself about Chester being a good man, my last experience with him wouldn’t let me give him any slack.

He attacked, hurt, and forced me to stay with him.

I couldn't ignore the fact he crossed all the lines.

Our relationship was broken, and I didn't know if it could be repaired.

I took a long, hot shower, the tears running freely down my face when I tried to wash away every memory of that dreadful moment.

I’d never been so scared and humiliated.

I felt weak and helpless, and I hated it with everything with me that I couldn't find the strength to fight.

Chester put me in the position of a submissive, obedient wife who hid her opinions and beliefs behind a smile, and it was destroying my confidence.

Ten days had gone by since the incident when he almost choked the living daylights out of me, and since then, I felt exposed and vulnerable, unable to find the lost balance. It was the worst feeling ever.

With the weight of my pathetic situation on my shoulders pushing me to my knees, I entered the bedroom and found Chester sitting on our bed.

"Tell me what I can do so you can forgive me," he said, connecting his eyes with mine.

"I'm not mad at you," I whispered. For some strange reason, I felt embarrassed and guilty for not being able to move on. He regretted what he'd done and apologized, but I was still stuck in that memory.

"You're disappointed by me, tired of my actions, or," he stood up and slowly walked toward me, and I nervously crossed my arms over my chest in a desperate attempt to prevent him from invading my personal space, "are you scared of me?"

"That's not it, Chester," I sighed, tired of all of this. "I need time to get past it. "

"I hear you, baby doll." He nodded, taking me by my arms. He gently stroked my exposed skin with his thumbs through my thin nightgown. "But please, give me a chance to prove that I care for you."

"I don't think it's a good idea," I objected weakly, trying to push him away, but he curled his arm around my waist and pulled me to his chest.

"I love you, Valeria," he whispered, kissing my brow tenderly. My heart skipped a beat, and fear overcame me for a moment. I didn't want to lie to him about something so important, but I couldn’t say it back. "You have no idea how sorry I am for hurting you."

I gulped, gathering my thoughts into some meaningful words, yet he continued before I said anything.

"I promise everything will be okay," he hushed, stroking my back softly. "We will be okay."

I closed my eyes and swallowed hard past the lump in my throat.

Deep in my heart, I knew it would never happen.

I couldn't return to where we were before he started gambling and almost killed me.

I just didn't want to provoke him while trying to solve my problems with money and a new job. But I was already aware that pretending to give him a chance would be the hardest thing I’d ever done.