Shattered Vows: A Plea for Redemption in the Depths of Despair.
It had become painfully clear to me that Max no longer held any love or respect for me. The man I once cherished had reduced me to nothing more than an object—his desires taking precedence over my will. He cared little for my consent, and each time he forced himself on me, it felt like another piece of my soul had been torn away.
The sweetness of life was slipping through my fingers. I had once dreamed of a happily-ever-after marriage, but I now found myself trapped in a waking nightmare. Slowly, I unraveled the truth about Max—the man I thought was a gentle, loving dove was nothing more than a predator disguised as a husband.
One night, as I sat on the couch, trying to lose myself in a television series to numb the emptiness inside, a heavy knock shattered the moment.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
I hesitated, reluctant to move, but eventually dragged myself to the door. When I opened it, Max stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. His bloodshot eyes told me he was high, the intoxication oozing from every part of his being.
Anger bubbled within me. "Now you've taken to drugs and alcohol?" I demanded, my voice trembling. "Is this the life you promised me, Max? Is this the 'forever' you vowed?"
He glared at me, swaying on unsteady feet, but I pressed on, my words fueled by months of suppressed frustration. "You're becoming a junkie. And every day, I feel more and more disgusted with you."
His hand moved so fast I didn't see it coming. The slap rang out like thunder, and I stumbled back, stunned. Before I could recover, he shoved me onto the bed.
"Strip," he barked.
"No!" I cried, trembling as I crawled backward on the bed. "This is all you do, Max. You come back drunk, high, and demand sex like I owe you something!"
"You are my wife," he hissed, advancing toward me. "You do owe me. You're mine, and I'll do whatever I please with you."
I tried to escape, scrambling toward the edge of the bed, but he pounced, pinning me down with his weight. I pleaded, my voice cracking. "Max, stop! Please, you're hurting me!"
But my words fell on deaf ears. His grip was ironclad as he wrestled me into submission. He tore at my robe, binding my wrists with the cord, and used his belt to restrain my legs. My breath quickened as panic consumed me.
When he returned from the wardrobe holding another belt, I froze. His face twisted into a cruel smile as he snapped the belt in the air.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The lashes seared across my skin, each one like fire igniting my flesh. "I am your master," he spat. "And you will learn to obey me."
Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the sweat and blood that stained the sheets. My body ached from his blows, but the worst pain came from his words—each one laced with venom and disdain.
"You're nothing special," he sneered. "You act like you don't love this, but we both know the truth."
I turned my head away, choking on my sobs as he continued his assault. His hands were merciless, his fingers violating me before he forced himself on me completely.
I begged him to stop. I cried out in desperation, but it only seemed to spur him on. "You're going to rip me apart," I whimpered, trembling beneath him.
He laughed—a cold, heartless sound. "Like I don't know you love it rough," he mocked. "Stop pretending you're some virtuous saint."
The pain was unbearable. My body felt like it was breaking under the weight of his cruelty. Finally, the torment overwhelmed me, and I fainted.
When I came to, water was splashed on my face. I opened my eyes to see him standing over me, his expression one of annoyance rather than concern.
"You couldn't even last three hours," he said bitterly, pulling his shirt back on. "You're pathetic."
I begged him through trembling lips. "Max... please take me to the hospital. I can't... I can't do this anymore."
He scoffed. "Take your painkillers," he snapped. "You'll feel better."
I watched him walk to the door, his anger still simmering. "Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Don't leave me like this."
"Never!" he spat, slamming the door behind him.
Thundering laughter echoed in my mind, mixing with my sobs
Here I was, in Paris—a city of dreams for so many—slowly dying inside. My family back in Nigeria probably thought I was living the perfect life. My friends likely imagined me basking in the glow of romance.
But the truth was far darker.
I thought of my parents, my siblings, my friends like Sarah, who must have tried to reach me only for Max to silence my voice.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I whispered to the empty room. "Will I ever hug my father again? See my mother's smile? Hear the laughter of my siblings or the chatter of my friends? Will I ever return to my work—the work I loved so much, caring for those innocent children?"
I sobbed harder, my chest heaving with regret.
"What have I done to myself? Why didn't I listen to my friends? Is this karma for how I treated Fredrick?"
I knelt beside the bed, my hands clasped in desperate prayer.
"Oh God, please forgive me. Please give me another chance. Let Max walk back through that door as the man I fell in love with. Turn him back into the kind, loving man he once was. Please, God, hear my cry. Amen."
The room fell silent again, the echoes of my prayer lingering in the air as I lay on the floor, waiting—for salvation, for justice, or for the courage to save myself.