Anonymous Message

Chapter Seven: A Message from the Past

I suppose sit in the living room with Noah, the silence between us close to tangible. The TV is on, but I hardly register what's playing. Noah seems engrossed—scrolling through his phone with a calm expression, oblivious to the storm inside me. My mind is a million miles away, thinking about Elvis, our meeting, and the promise he made to set me free. I know I should not be holding onto his words, but I just can't help it—after all, I am in a marriage where I am nothing more than a placeholder.

Noah’s phone pings. He opens the message and reads aloud in a cold, even voice. The words slice through the quiet, razoring into my chest.

"How do you feel living with a woman you do not love? How do you feel going in a contract marriage because she needs your help? Release her now!"

My heart drops, and the room seems to close in around me. I instantly know who sent the message. There’s only one person who could know the truth, only one brave—or stupid—enough to say such words. Elvis.

I force myself to stay calm, swallowing the panic welling up inside. Noah’s jaw clenches, and he turns a cold, unforgiving gaze on me. His eyes narrow, peering deep into me as if he can see through my mask of calm. I brace myself, knowing full well what's about to happen.

“Who did you tell, Rachel?” His voice is low, controlled, but there's a dangerous undercurrent in it.

I shake my head, feigning ignorance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His tone sharpens, cutting through the air like broken glass. “You must’ve told somebody! Do you think I’m a fool?”

“Noah, I swear I haven’t said anything to anyone.” My voice wavers slightly, though I try to keep steady as my heart races. “I don’t know who would send that.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms, an expression of disgust twisting his face. “So I’m supposed to believe this just… happened? That some random person out there knows every intimate detail of our arrangement? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

A lump forms in my throat, but I force myself to stand my ground. “Noah, I haven’t told anyone. I wouldn’t do that.”

He lets out a harsh, mocking laugh, moving closer. His eyes blaze with suspicion. “You expect me to believe that? After this?”

I open my mouth to respond, but he cuts me off.

“You know what, Rachel?” He leans in, menace dripping from his every word. “If you’re going to act like this is a real marriage, maybe you should start acting like a wife. From now on, you’ll do all the housework. No more help, no more privileges.”

My stomach twists. “Noah, that’s not fair. You can’t just—”

“Oh, can’t I?” His eyes flash with a dangerous glint. “You’re here because of me. I’m the one who paid your debts, who gave you a place to stay. So unless you want to end up with nothing, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

I clench my fists, a mix of anger and helplessness boiling inside. “I never asked for this, Noah. You’re the one who offered me this arrangement. You said it was just for appearances.”

“Well, things have changed,” he replies, his smile wicked. “Clearly, I can’t trust you. So, you’ll have to earn my trust back… if that’s even possible.”

His words sting, but I bite back my pride and nod. I know if I argue, it’ll only get worse. I have to stay calm, keep my head down, and hope he doesn’t take things even further.

The days that follow are a nightmare. Noah doesn’t just give me extra work—he makes it his mission to find every way possible to make me feel small and insignificant. He watches me closely, waiting for the tiniest mistake, pouncing on any excuse to lash out.

Day after day, he adds more tasks to my already overflowing plate. I cook, clean, and run errands for him—all while he sits back, watching, seeming to test how far he can push me. I feel myself sinking under the weight of it all, but I keep going, knowing any misstep could make things worse.

Every time I glance at my phone, I wonder if Elvis will send another message, if he realizes the chaos he’s unleashed. Part of me wants to reach out to him, to beg him to stop, to explain the mess he’s creating. But I can’t. I’m trapped in this world of Noah’s rules, his demands, his cold, relentless gaze.

After hours of cleaning and cooking, I fall into bed each night, my body aching from head to toe. I feel shattered, a mere shadow of my former self. My thoughts drift to Elvis—his promises, his words. I wonder if he knows how much I need him, if he understands the risk I’m taking by clinging to the hope that he’ll come for me.

But hope is fragile here, and lying in the silence of the house, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on. Noah has made it clear that he’s in control, that he won’t let me forget who holds the power in this twisted arrangement. And each day, it tightens around me, squeezing out any last trace of freedom I might have had.

I wake up well before dawn, already dreading the day ahead. After getting dressed and preparing breakfast, I hear Noah’s footsteps behind me. I keep my head down, praying he’ll walk past. Instead, he stops and watches me with a cruel smirk.

“Have this place spotless by the time I get back,” he says. “And don’t even think about cutting corners. I’ll know if you do.”

I nod, biting back the urge to snap, to tell him how unfair he’s being. But I stay silent, knowing defiance will only make things worse.

As he leaves, the familiar weight of despair settles over me. But deep down, part of me won’t quit. I hold onto Elvis, the hope that somehow, he’ll find a way to get me out of this nightmare.

For now, I’m stuck in this grueling cycle, each day bleeding into the next, each chore a reminder of how little control I have over my life. But no matter how hard Noah tries to break me, I hold onto that one spark of hope, waiting for the day when I can finally be free.