CHAPTER 3

Alex POV 

I had slept in the garden for the night. I wasn't sure when I just dozed off but it was the best sleep ever. Even better than anything the Manor could offer. 

Although it was plagued with the words of Michael, and Maria, yet it was still peaceful and great. 

Brushing off leaves from my clothes, I made my way back to the Manor, hoping to pack my things before anyone woke up.

But when I opened the door to my room, Margaret was there, tears streaming down her wrinkled face.

"Oh, Mrs. Coleman..." she rushed towards me. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry..."

"Margaret-"

"I should have told you," she sobbed, wringing her hands. "About Mr. Coleman and... and that woman. But I thought... I thought if you knew while in the hospital..."

I pulled the elderly woman into a hug. "It's okay, Margaret. You were protecting me."

"I saw everything," she whispered. "For the past few days, I watched that snake slither her way into this house. Into your marriage. The way she'd come when you were away, how she'd laugh with him in his study..."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.

"Because you lost the baby," she pulled back, her eyes filled with guilt. "I couldn't bear to break your heart when it was already shattered."

Suddenly, the door burst open with Michael standing there, his face mixed with rage.

He stormed into the room. "Where the fuck were you?" he demanded.

I took a step back. "What do you care?"

"You're still my wife," he growled, grabbing my arm. "I asked you a question."

I straightened my spine. "I don't think that's any of your concern anymore."

"You're still my wife," he snarled, then turned to Margaret. "You, get out. Now."

"Mrs. Coleman..." Margaret hesitated.

"It's okay, Margaret. Go."

Once she left, Michael locked the door, his movements deliberate. "You didn't answer my question."

"Why do you care? Shouldn't you be with your pregnant mistress?"

His eyes darkened. "So she told you."

"Yes, she did. Along with how you both played me for a fool. Tell me, Michael, did you enjoy it? Watching me try so hard while you laughed behind my back?"

"Shut up," he growled. 

"No, I won't shut up! Five years, Michael. Five years of lies! And our baby... was that part of your plan too?"

Something in his eyes changed, turning predatory. "You've gotten bold, haven't you? Is this what happens when I leave you alone for one night?"

The way he looked at me made my skin crawl. This wasn't the man I married - or maybe he was, and I'd just never seen him clearly before.

"Stay back," I warned, but my voice shook.

"Or what?" He smirked, closing the distance between us. "Have you forgotten? Everything here belongs to me. Including you."

I had barely registered when Michael loosened the belt of my gown. My protests fell on deaf ears as he smiled wickedly, forcing my gown open and exposing my nakedness.  

“You are my wife,” he spat, unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants, “and your sole duty in life is to ensure that I’m always sexually satisfied.”  

Interesting. So now I was his wife because he needed a release.  

“Maria can help you with that so let go of me," I whispered, trying to pull away.

His laugh was cruel. "What's wrong, Alex? Isn't this what a wife is supposed to do? Or am I not good enough now that you spent the night who knows where?"

At that moment, I realized begging would accomplish nothing. I stood there, frozen, as the man I once loved transformed into someone unrecognizable.

This wasn't my Michael. The Michael I married used to bring me flowers every Friday, would hold me during thunderstorms, would light up when I entered a room.

Now his eyes held nothing but contempt.

Sometimes it felt like some dark magic had stolen his soul, replacing it with this monster. The gentle man who'd once shyly asked for my number at our arranged marriage meeting was gone.

"You're nothing but a convenient arrangement," he sneered, his free hand roughly grabbing my chin. "A stepping stone to what I really wanted. And right now you'll help me once more, let me have one last taste wifey before you go back to the hole you crawled out from.” 

As much as I wanted the old Michael back, I didn’t want him like this. He was a predator, and I was his prey, shivering with fear as he pried my legs apart.  

At that moment, I realized begging him would accomplish nothing. I lay there, resigned to endure what he was about to do. After all, he was right. My job was to give him sex whenever he wanted, whether I was in the mood or not.  

I lived under his roof. He bore all my responsibilities. I was his housewife. My role was to ensure I looked pretty and was always ready to spread my legs on command.  

I was nothing but a human sex doll to him. To fuck. To use. To give him pleasure. 

I was nothing but a means to an end. Either physically, emotionally or mentally.

Instinctively, I pressed my legs together while he fondled and sucked at my neck.  

“Spread your damn legs, Alex,” he barked, yanking them apart. “This is the only thing you’re good for anyway. You’re nothing but a leech, a gold digger.”

My heart shattered into irreparable pieces, but I kept my face expressionless as he lathered my chest with saliva.  

“You’re so damn repelling,” he sneered, though he didn’t stop his assault.  

If I was so disgusting, why couldn’t he leave me alone? I inwardly begged him to stop, but I said nothing.  

“You’re not even tight anymore,” he spat, shoving three fingers into me at once. “Have you been whoring yourself out? Did you spread my legs for my grandfather because I wouldn't be surprised to as how he'd forced me to suddenly marry a nobody when I was perfect with Maria. So maybe you gave him something for something.” 

Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head. He wouldn’t believe me, no matter what I said.  

“I would never do that,” I wept.  

He scoffed, forcing himself into me. 

I so want to die right now. The ground should swallow me up. I have lost my home, my baby, my husband and now slowly losing my dignity by forcing himself on me, hurling accusations and insults as if I were the lowest creature alive.  

What had I done to deserve this?  

Was I not worthy of love? Of a happy marriage?  

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. “You can’t fool me with your pathetic, miserable act. Be honest, how many men have you been with besides me? Ten? Twenty? Forty?”  

His words felt like a slap to my soul.  

Without bothering with foreplay, Michael thrust into me, mercilessly pounding away. Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks as his hand wrapped around my throat.  

“Why are you pretending not to like it?” he spat. “Do you act like this with your other men?”  

I sniffled, barely able to breathe under his grip. “Ahh…I…I’ve never been with anyone else but you, and you know it.”  

“That’s what I used to think,” he scoffed. “Until I realized I never truly knew you.”  

His words stung, but he didn’t let me process them. He tightened his grip on my throat and plowed into me harder.  

Each thrust hitting my soul. Breaking me, destroying everything I've pride myself to be. A good wife.

I stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling hollow and broken.  

An excruciating moment later, Michael released inside me with a groan, his face buried in the crook of my shoulder.  

“You’re actually useful sometimes,” he grunted, pulling back to gaze down at me. “But I'll give you a 2 over a 10. Still not as tight as Maria.”

I didn’t respond. Instead, I pressed my lips into a thin line and shut my eyes, retreating into the only place he couldn’t reach, my thoughts.  

So this was it. This was what rock bottom felt like. 

How sad. 

I guess it's time for me to leave.