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Declan Rhodes and I were childhood
sweethearts.
After we got married, he was completely devoted to me. He cooked, cleaned, held me when I cried, and made me feel like I was the center of his world. When I got pregnant, he spoiled me even more–treated me like I was made of porcelain.
But when I got slapped to the ground in broad daylight, he ran over…
And kicked me away like I was trash.
I clutched my belly, screaming through the pain, but all he cared about was the woman standing beside him.
“Nancy, baby, are you okay? Did she hurt your hand?”
“That bitch must be blind,” Nancy spat. “How dare she block my way? I should’ve slapped her harder.”
Declan turned to me, his eyes wild, his voice cold. “How dare you touch her?”
Then his fist came down.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
The crowd started to gather, murmurs of shock filling the air as I curled in on myself, blood soaking through my dress.
A stranger gasped, “Where’s her husband? Someone stop this! She’s pregnant! She’ll lose the baby!”
If only they knew–my husband was the one beating me.
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I’d gone to the farmer’s market to buy fresh ingredients, planning a surprise dinner for Declan. I wanted to celebrate–our little one had kicked for the first time that morning.
I walked slower than usual, thanks to my bump, and got shoved from behind by a woman who claimed I was in her way.
She slapped me so hard I stumbled forward and landed hard on the pavement, pain exploding through my lower back and abdomen.
My vision blurred.
When I saw Declan running toward me, relief flooded my chest. My protector. My husband.
But he didn’t recognize me.
He didn’t ask if I was okay.
He kicked me in the stomach so hard I
thought I’d pass out.
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Then he punched me.
Over and over.
For her.
For Nancy Blanchard.
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I tried to scream, but the pain stole my voice. Blood was already seeping down my thighs, staining the asphalt below.
“My baby…” I whimpered, reaching out. My hand grasped the leg of his pants, trembling. “Declan… it’s me…”
He looked down for a second. Something flickered in his eyes.
Recognition?
Doubt?
Hope flared in my chest.
But then he grabbed me by the hair, yanked my head back, and slammed his fist into my jaw.
Blood spilled from my mouth, warm and metallic. My vision swam.
He looked down at the stain I’d left on his pants and sneered. “Disgusting.”
Then, louder, so everyone could hear. “You really thought I’d pity you? Look at yourself. You think you’re good enough to touch me? A toad trying to taste swan meat. Pathetic.”
Another blow, this time to my stomach. I screamed as white–hot pain spread through my entire body.
“You’re nothing,” he spat. “Compared to my Nancy, you’re dirt. A worthless piece of trash that doesn’t even deserve to breathe the same air”
The pain was unbearable, like knives slicing
through my organs
ding bruised
through my organs. I was bleeding, bruised, broken–and more than anything, shattered.
I was his wife.
We had a marriage certificate. A home. A baby.
We shared a bed every night. I knew every scar on his body. I knew how he liked his coffee. I knew the sound he made when he dreamed.
In high school, I fell into a freezing river, and he jumped in without hesitation, nearly drowning just to save me.
When I had the flu, he stayed up all night, holding my hand, feeding me soup, wiping sweat from my forehead.
When we were broke, we shared a single bowl of ramen, and he always gave me the last bite.
When he started making money be bought
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When he started making money, he bought me everything I so much as glanced at. Jewelry. Shoes. A new kitchen because I once said I hated the countertops.
He never let me do chores. He hired a nanny and a maid because, he said, I shouldn’t have to lift a finger while carrying his child.
There were countless moments that told me -he loved me.
Just yesterday, he curled into me and whispered, “I love you. You, me, and our little one–it’s all I ever wanted.”
And today?
He tried to kill us both.
The man who once kissed every scar on my body now made new ones. The man who said I was his world now acted like I was a
stranger.
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No. Not a stranger.
A threat.
A nuisance.
An enemy.
Was everything we had… a lie?
Was our marriage–our love–just an illusion I desperately clung to while he planned my destruction?
Declan Rhodes, the man I trusted with my life, had become my worst nightmare.
And as I lay in a pool of my own blood, our baby slipping away from me, I realized-
I didn’t know him at all.
