Sentenced to Marriage

Chapter 35

Confession *** TRIGGER WARNING: Dear readers, please be aware that this chapter contains examples and some descriptions of abuse and sexual violence. ***

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I woke up lying on the floor in the hotel room I had rented the night before. I was still wearing my fabulous golden gown. It took me a few minutes before I could stand up on my wobbly legs and go to the bathroom. I spent some time staring at my reflection

ne staring at my reflection, trying to recognize myself underneath my smudged makeup. That was it: I was broken.

I spent three years forgetting and then denying everything that had happened in my relationship with Callan, and last night, my past showed up in front of me, making all of my nightmares resurface. The one who made me bleed stood up before me, mocking the anxieties he triggered within me. I prayed that someone would rescue me from this nightmare, but my Prince Charming only rubbed more salt into my reopened wounds. That felt truly pathetic.

I untied the corset and took my Cinderella‘s dress off. The ball was over, and as I looked in the mirror, I felt as if I had started to turn into a pumpkin myself. My face had already resembled one a little, swollen from oceans of shed tears and evenly pink–red. My mind felt like a land devastated by a tornado, so I decided to take care of the outer side of myself first. I entered a shower and tried to wash off my restlessness with hot water. I stood there blankly, observing the black smudges from my makeup disappear in the shower drain. I wished that the pain I felt disappeared as well, but it didn‘t.

I thought that I was strong enough to handle it alone, and I hated the fact that I was turning out to be completely weak. For the first time in my life, I was helpless. I didn‘t know what to do. I had no home, I had already quit the job that was giving me most of my money, and I signed a contract with penalties I couldn‘t possibly afford to pay...

“Take it easy, Cora. You will solve those problems one by one.” I tried to calm myself down while drying my hair with a towel.

Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. It startled me. I didn‘t expect any uncalled–for room service at 8 AM. I hurriedly grabbed an oversized bathrobe and cautiously stepped to the door.

“Who is it?” I asked, my voice still hoarse from crying.

“It‘s me, Miranda.”

I told Aren not to follow me, but I should have known that he wouldn‘t listen. I bet that he was informed about my every move from the second I got into the taxi in front of the Four Seasons Hotel.

My heart started to pound again, and my body shivered. “I-is Aren with you?” “No, it‘s only me. Can I come in?” I sighed and opened the door. Miranda greeted me with a nervous smile. As she entered, I noticed she carried a thick dress cover with her.

“I brought some clothes for you. Aren packed it... the lingerie as well. He is really worried about you, you know?” she said as she put the cover on the hotel bed.

“I seriously doubt that.” I smiled sourly.

“I know that he screwed up big time… He told me everything,” she claimed, sitting on the chair by the bed.

I chuckled coldly. “Oh? Did he also tell you that he –”

“I punched him in the stomach.” She fisted her hands, anger flashing in her expression

My lips uncontrollably formed a warm smile. “Thank you,” I muttered. “He deserved it,” she stated firmly. I couldn‘t tell when my body stopped trembling, but I guess Miranda‘s presence had some therapeutic effect on me. I sat on the bed and opened the cover she had brought.

“He doesn‘t really know what his brother can be like. Nanny Mei Lien separated him from Wintons as much as she could, and that probably saved his life.” She frowned, recalling the past in her mind, and then cleared her throat. “What I‘m trying to say is that they lived in the same mansion, but they never even ate meals together. I‘ve known Callan for a long time, and I‘ve seen his sociopathic behavior more than once, Aren hasn‘t.” “Is that supposed to be an excuse for treating me the way he did?” I squeezed through my teeth.

“No...” Miranda sighed. “I‘m just saying that if he had known what happened between you two, he would have solved everything differently.”

I laughed bitterly. “How could I tell him about something I had never said out loud in the first place?!”

Miranda leaned closer and grabbed my hand. “Then maybe you should do it now. You can practice on me if you want to.”

“I don‘t know if I can...” I muttered.

Miranda leaned her back against the chair and looked me up and down. “Do you want to know why I‘m here and why I punched my best friend for you?”

I smiled nervously and shook my head.

“I‘m not a therapist, but I can recognize PTSD when I see it. The second you mentioned your ex– boyfriend, your face turned pale and your whole body tensed. You started to tremble while straining to get the words out as if they were too painful to speak. Even now, you are sweating as you listen to it

because you are well aware that you are suppressing something that is eating you from the inside. I only wonder why it is so hard for you to talk about it.”

“Because I should never have let this happen...” I choked out, my voice cracking, “Because I feel guilty for letting him control me like that.” Bitterness filled my smile as my eyes released a thin streak of tears.

“Cora... you cannot possibly blame yourself for some crazy fucker‘s shit.” Miranda frowned. “I can contact you with a therapist if you don‘t want to talk–” “No,” I said, brushing off the tears from my cheeks. “I would rather talk to you... if you don‘t mind.”

She nodded, and I felt relief that she agreed. I couldn‘t believe what I was about to do, but somehow, at that moment, it felt right. I felt safe, and I wanted to release a piece of the burden that had been poisoning me for three years.

I pulled in a shaky breath. “The beginning of our relationship felt wonderful. Callan showered me with roses and gifts and took me on romantic dates. Being with him felt like any girl‘s dream. Until we had sex for the first time...” I paused and swallowed while wiping the sweat off my palms on the bedsheets. “A little while later, he said that I should dye my hair platinum blond. I refused, but then he said that I looked unattractive in my natural hair color. We fought about it and made up... but a day later, he started openly flirting with a girl that was platinum blonde right in front of me. He told her that she was sexy, and he even asked for her number! I got furious... But I‘d already fallen in love with the jerk... I dyed my hair the day after...” Telling Miranda about it felt even more pathetic than dying that stupid hair for him. I was well aware that it was the moment he put a leash on my neck. Unfortunately, the further parts of the story had an even more sour taste...

“You know...” I laughed nervously. “I used to watch documentaries about abused and manipulated women and I always thought: how could they be so stupid and stay with the man

them so bad? And then… I acted like them or worse. Once, Callan told me that I was too fat… I yelled in his face but then thought that maybe I should work out a bit. I lost ten pounds and gained muscles... but Callan didn‘t like it. He wanted a skinny girlfriend...” This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

“You started starving yourself, didn‘t you?” Miranda interjected, her eyes as watery as my own.

I nodded. “I didn‘t even know how he made me do such a thing... I used to like myself the way I was, and he made me lose that confidence. I lost an extra twelve pounds and could easily count every rib in my ribcage. I developed several health problems, but he didn‘t notice... He didn‘t care. But there was more…” I stopped, trying to catch a breath.

Miranda sat beside me on the bed. “It‘s ok. That man won‘t hurt you anymore, and if he tries, I‘m going to cut his balls with a scalpel.” She smiled evilly, trying to give me courage. ‘I breathed in, breathed out, and then continued, “Callan had liked… more kinky and dark kinds of sex. He made me do some of the things that I didn‘t want and didn’t enjoy at all… When I refused him, he would go mad and disappear for the whole night, most likely looking for someone who could give him what he wanted.”

Miranda clenched her fist. “Did that fucker ever hit you?”

“No…” I said faintly, “but one night, he came to my room drunk... and forced himself on me. I mean, we were in a relationship but–” “For fucking Christ‘s sake! Cora, he raped you! Relationship or not, that was rape!” Miranda snapped.

My tears started falling uncontrollably. I didn‘t want to say it. I couldn‘t say it aloud, although it was obvious. It just felt so pathetic, so pitiful, and I had never been like that. I didn‘t want to be called weak or helpless. Miranda hugged me close and started to stroke my head.

“Don‘t worry, honey... We will build back the confidence that fucker has stolen from you.” She leaned back to look me in the eyes. “And once we do, we will make that son of a bitch pay.”

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