Under the warm glow of candlelight, Mary and Elliot stand across from each other, their eyes sparkling with nervous energy and anticipation. Slowly, Mary takes the first step, her fingers lingering on the buttons of Elliot's shirt, her touch feather-light yet bold.With a gentle nudge, the shirt opens, revealing Elliot's muscular torso. Mary's fingers trail softly over his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Her eyes, full of adoration and desire, lock with his, a silent communication of their shared intent.Elliot, inspired by Mary's actions, turns the tide, his hands now caressing her silky smooth skin. He traces the delicate neckline of her dress, his fingers lingering on the curve of her collarbone, then slowly gliding downwards to her breasts. Mary leans into his touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips.The mood, thick with sexual tension, escalates as their clothes fall to the floor, each piece a testament to the passion unfolding. Their kisses, once soft and tender, now intensify, becoming more urgent, more demanding.As their mouths devour each other, their hands roam freely, exploring every inch of the other's body. Mary's hands, previously gentle, now grasp Elliot's buttocks, pulling him closer, her nails lightly grazing his skin.Elliot, enthralled by Mary's boldness, responds in kind, his hands traveling upwards, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her erect nipples, sending electric currents through her body.The foreplay, once gentle, now takes a rougher tone. Mary, a wildfire of passion, pushes Elliot onto the bed, her body pressing against his, her hips gyrating in a rhythm that speaks of her desire.Elliot's hands, now rough with urgency, find their way under Mary's shirt, their mouths still locked in a heated kiss. He teases her nipples, twisting and pulling lightly, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of red marks in their wake.Mary's breath hitches, her body arching into Elliot's touch. She grabs his head, pulling him closer, her legs wrapping around his waist, a signal of her unspoken invitation.In the dimly lit room, Mary's figure stands out as a beacon of desirable curves and femininity. Her full, plump ass, rounded and firm, is a delectable sight, inviting Elliot to explore its sensuality. The pink folds of her pussy, wet and glistening, beg to be tasted, their softness a stark contrast to the hard thrusts they are about to endure.Her big, round breasts bounce with each wild thrust, their fullness a tantalizing treat for Elliot's hands and mouth. The soft mounds, topped with erect, brown nipples, stand at attention, demanding attention and pleasure.As Elliot's hands grip her hips, his fingers trace the delicate curve of her waist, hovering just above the soft mound of her belly. His hands trail upwards, caressing her breasts, his fingers playing with her nipples, twisting and pulling lightly.Mary's eyes, filled with desire, are fixed on Elliot, her mouth slightly agape, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as pleasure washes over her. Her body, a temple of sensuality, reflects the intensity of her orgasmic waves, each one bringing her closer to the brink of a climax so intense it takes her breath away.The wildness of their lovemaking is a chaos, a dance of flesh and lust where each thrust is a testament to their insatiable desire. They move as one, their bodies synchronized in a rhythm that speaks to the core of their being.The image of their coupling is a symphony of sensuality—the sight of her pink, wet pussy engulfed by his rough, masculine presence; the sound of their heavy breathing and the slap of flesh on flesh; and the feel of their bodies united, a fusion of pleasure.The first time they slept together, Mary thought it was just another step in their growing connection. But after they were intimate, Eliot dropped his sweet demeanor and showed his true colors. The things he had kept hidden—his cruelty, his manipulation, his complete disregard for her feelings—came rushing to the surface.Eliot began to demand more and more from her, and at first, she didn't understand what was happening. It wasn't just the emotional manipulation that took a toll; it was physical. He began to pressure her, crossing boundaries she hadn't even known she had. What began as a regular, though intense, sexual relationship soon turned into something ugly.Elliot's abuse became a twisted routine, a sickening pattern that Mary couldn't escape. At first, it was subtle—cold words, harsh glares, and the occasional shove—but over time, it grew darker. The man who had once been her refuge became her tormentor. He would manipulate her into feeling worthless, eroding her self-esteem with cruel remarks.His touch, once affectionate, turned violent and controlling. He'd demand more from her each day, both sexually and emotionally, until she felt nothing but an empty shell of herself. And when she refused, or when he grew bored, he would hit her. The bruises on her body were as much a part of her daily life as the drugs he forced her to take.He wasn't just physically violent—he was mentally cruel, twisting her into thinking she was the one who deserved it. Each night she spent with him felt like a countdown to something worse, and by the time she finally realized she needed to leave, she was so broken, so numb, that escaping seemed impossible. Every day, she felt herself slipping further into a darkness she couldn't climb out of.In a stark contrast to the passionate encounter they had shared, Elliot's behavior started taking an alarming turn, and that day arrives.Mary, reclining on the bed, senses an ominous shift in the room's atmosphere as Elliot's expression darkens, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous intensity.Without warning, Elliot's hand lashes out, a brutal slap that connects with Mary's cheek, leaving behind a stinging sensation and a red mark that blossoms across her skin. Confused and terrified, Mary stammers, her voice quivering as she attempts to understand the sudden aggression. But before she can gather her thoughts, Elliot's fist connects with her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and sending her tumbling off the bed.Cringing in pain, Mary attempts to curl into a protective ball, her eyes welling up with tears. But Elliot's anger seems to know no bounds. He grabs her by the hair, forcing her to meet his gaze as he leers down at her with a sinister smile."you think you can ignore me, bitch." he spits, his voice filled with rage and entitlement.Before Mary can even process the threat, Elliot's hand lashes out again, this time leaving a cruel imprint of his fingers across her face. The pain is searing, but Mary's fear overrides the physical agony as she realizes the extent of her vulnerability.Elliot's grip tightens, and he roughly drags Mary across the floor, her clothes tearing as she helplessly tries to break free. He throws her onto the bed, his body looming over her, his weight crushing her into the mattress. Mary's cries for help are muffled as Elliot's hand clamps over her mouth, silencing her pleas.In a frightening display of power, Elliot proceeds to roughly undress Mary, his movements aggressive and callous. She squirms beneath him, her body stiff with resistance, but his strength overpowers her.As Elliot enters her, Mary's body goes limp, her mind unable to process the violation that is occurring. Her tears stream down her face as she endures the brutal, unloving penetration, her cries of pain and desperation going unheard.Elliot's grip on Mary tightens as he leads her into his room. The atmosphere is thick with an air of menace and foreboding. Mary's eyes widen with fear as she recognizes the intent in Elliot's gaze, a far cry from the adoring look she'd grown accustomed to.Elliot's voice, normally soft and comforting, takes on a menacing edge. "You're gonna like this, Mary. Trust me, You never gonna ignore me again." he hisses, his breath hot and ragged in her ear.Mary's heart pounds in her chest as she tries to pull away, her instincts screaming at her to run. But Elliot's grip is iron-clad, and he forces her onward, his steps purposeful as he pushes her deeper into the darkest recesses of the warehouse.The air grows thicker with each step, the smell of decay and despair pressing in on them. Mary's throat constricts as she tries to stifle a cry, but Elliot's hand clamps over her mouth, his grip viselike and unyielding.He pushes her against the grimy wall, his body pressing into hers, his face looming close. "You're gonna do what I say," he growls, his eyes wild and unfocused. "You're gonna enjoy this, or I'll make you."Fear grips Mary's heart as she realizes the extent of Elliot's hold over her. She's terrified, but a part of her knows resistance is futile. Her body goes limp, her mind a blur of conflicting emotions as she tries to process the sudden turn of events.Elliot wastes no time, producing a small bag of drugs from his pocket. He shoves a bundle into Mary's hand, the powder spilling over her fingers. "Swallow this, and enjoy the ride," he commands, his voice harsh and commanding.Mary's eyes widen in terror, but before she can protest, Elliot's hand clamps around her throat, his fingers digging painfully into her flesh. "Swallow it," he growls, his breath hot and rancid on her face. "Now."He started sexually abusing her, each time justifying his actions with twisted words, telling her that she should be grateful, that she owed him. Each night, the assaults became more frequent, more violent. His addiction to drugs worsened, and with it, so did his behavior.As Elliot's grip on Mary tightens, her protests fall on deaf ears. His gaze, once filled with adoration, now holds a dark and menacing intensity, his eyes narrowing as he watches her struggle against his grasp."You're not going anywhere," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "Not until you learn your place."Terrified and helpless, Mary's body goes limp, her mind a whirl of conflicting emotions - fear, confusion, and a creeping sense of dread as she realizes the extent of her vulnerability.Elliot, fueled by a mix of drugs and unbridled anger, roughly shoves Mary against the wall, his hands grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. Her body trembles, a silent plea for him to stop, but her pleas fall on deaf ears.His face looms close to hers, his breath hot and rancid, his eyes wild and unfocused. "You think you can just ignore me after that night?" he spits, his voice laced with rage and a twisted sense of possession.Mary's eyes widen in terror, her breath coming in short gasps as Elliot's grip tightens, his fingers digging painfully into her skin. She tries to pull away, but his strength is overwhelming, leaving her body aching and bruised.With a fierce growl, Elliot unleashes a barrage of blows, his hands and fists connecting with Mary's body with sickening force. Her cries of pain echo off the warehouse walls, the sound of her misery lost in the hollow emptiness of the abandoned building.Framed against the grimy backdrop, Mary's body contorts and twists as Elliot's aggression takes hold, her soft curves a stark contrast to the brutality of his assault. Her face, once a picture of beauty and innocence, is now a mask of fear and despair, her eyes begging for mercy.He would force her to use drugs with him, promising to be the 'better version' of himself while making her dependent on the high. But soon, it became clear that he was dragging her into his abyss, using substances to keep her under his control, to numb her, to break her down further.As Elliot's hands finally release their brutal hold on Mary, her body falls limply to the ground, the pain and trauma of the assault overwhelming her. Her breath comes in shallow gasps, her eyes unfocused as she tries to process the horrific events that had just transpired.Her heart pounding, Mary slowly begins to gather her senses, the gravity of her situation sinking in. With trembling hands, she attempts to pull herself up, the effort resulting in a sharp, searing pain that shoots through her body. But undeterred, she continues, her movements slow and deliberate as she crawls away from the now motionless figure of Elliot.The bedroom, where they had sex, she lays traumatized, as she frantically searches for an exit. Her ragged breaths slow, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, she staggers to her feet, her body bruised and battered.With each step, the exit feels more away, her eyes fixed on the distant light filtering in through a small, high window. Her progress is slow, her weakened state a constant reminder of the violence she's endured.The pain was unbearable. Mary's ribs throbbed with every breath, a sharp, biting ache that radiated through her chest. She could feel the blood oozing from the cuts on her arms, the bruises blossoming across her body—each one a mark of the violence she had been subjected to. But it wasn't just the physical pain that hurt the most; it was the suffocating weight of the shame, the horror that clung to her like a second skin.With trembling hands, she forced herself to pull herself up from the floor where Elliot had left her, half-conscious, broken. Her legs barely held her up as she stumbled towards the window. It wasn't much of a choice, but it was her only way out.She didn't know how much time she had left before he'd come after her again.Finally, reaching the window, a flood of relief washes over her as she sees the bustling city streets beyond. With one last surge of strength, She climbed out, her ribs protesting violently as her weight shifted awkwardly.The fall was dizzying, but she barely registered it—only the crash as her body hit the ground below, hard and unrelenting. She gasped, her body searing with pain, but it didn't matter. She had to run. She had to get away.With all the strength she could muster, she dragged herself to her feet, biting down on her lip to hold back the cries that threatened to escape. Her body trembled, and every step felt like a thousand knives in her flesh, but she kept moving, her bloodshot eyes focused on one goal: home.Her thoughts were clouded with the terror of the night. The flashes of Elliot's hands on her, the words he had whispered, the twisted control he exerted over her... She felt filthy, unworthy. But she had no other choice. She didn't want to think about it; she didn't want to remember, but it was there, inside her head, like a shadow that wouldn't fade.Her house wasn't far, but it might as well have been miles away as she stumbled through the streets, her body battered and broken. Every step was a struggle, but the idea of returning to her mother's house kept her moving forward. There, she could hide. There, she could breathe—if only for a moment.When she finally reached the doorstep, her legs gave way, and she collapsed against the door, her body shaking uncontrollably. She slid to the floor, her hand weakly reaching for the doorknob. She barely had the strength to turn it, but somehow, she managed. Inside, the house was quiet—too quiet. As she crossed the threshold, the scent of her mother's perfume lingered faintly, but Mary couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything except the searing ache in her body, the numbness in her heart.Mary dragged herself in front of the mirror, her hands trembling as she wiped away the tears that stained her face. Her eyes were hollow, and her body ached with the remnants of pain she could no longer ignore. She gazed at her reflection, her voice barely a whisper as the thoughts tormented her."What did I do to deserve this? Was I too weak? Too trusting? How did I let it go this far?" Her voice cracked, the words slipping out as if she were pleading for some kind of answer, some kind of redemption. But the silence that followed only deepened her self-loathing. She didn't know anymore. She just wanted it all to stop.She collapsed in the hallway, her body a mess of pain and exhaustion. The tears came then, silent and hollow, as she lay on the floor, her mind too fragile to piece together anything rational. She was home, but not really. She was broken, but the weight of it was too much to bear. There was no escape from the reality of what had happened, no way to undo the damage Elliot had done, no way to erase the traces of the abuse.The night felt endless, each moment stretching on forever. And in that darkness, she whispered one name, one hope, even if she didn't deserve it.After each episode of abuse, Elliot would become the man she once thought she knew. He'd shower her with apologies, whisper sweet nothings, and promise that it would never happen again. He'd buy her flowers, take her out to fancy dinners, and pretend as if the world had never turned dark between them.Mary, desperate for the love she once believed he could give, would allow herself to be pulled back in, trusting his words even though her body and mind screamed for her to leave. The cycle repeated over and over again—each time he'd break her, then beg for forgiveness with tearful eyes and empty promises.But after the last abuse, when he went too far, too violent, too cruel, she couldn't pretend anymore. She couldn't believe his lies. She could no longer allow herself to be deceived by the soft touch of his apologies. That night, after he left her broken on the floor, she knew deep down that she could never go back to him. No matter how many flowers or sweet words he would offer, there was nothing left to salvage. She never saw Elliot again.--Marcus stood motionless on the terrace, the night air biting at his skin as his cigarette smoke swirled into the cold, dark sky. His thoughts were tangled—an endless loop of regret and confusion, each moment of his past pulling him further from the man he once was. A sudden shift in the air made him look up. Mary stood in the doorway, her face drawn with weariness, but her eyes held a flicker of something more—something unresolved.She hesitated for a moment, then walked toward him slowly, the weight of her steps heavy with meaning."Marcus, I owe you an explanation," she began, her voice trembling as though each word was a struggle to release.He didn't speak, merely watched her, waiting for the words to come.She exhaled shakily, clasping her hands together. "I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. What I did... with Elliot—it wasn't just a mistake. It was a reflection of my own brokenness. I was lost, and I didn't know how to deal with the pain, the guilt. I convinced myself that you were the reason we lost the baby, and I was so angry at you... but that wasn't fair."Her voice cracked, and she wiped a tear away. "I didn't know how to cope with everything, with the void that was left after losing our child. But I should've never turned to him. I thought he was an escape, but he was just a nightmare, someone who made things worse."Marcus remained silent, the weight of her confession pressing down on him. Mary took another step forward, her hands trembling at her sides."I'm so sorry," she whispered, her eyes meeting his with raw vulnerability. "I wanted to come back, but I didn't know if you'd take me. I couldn't live with the guilt of what I did to you, Marcus... but now, here I am, asking for a second chance."The night air was heavy, thick with tension as Marcus stood frozen, listening to Mary. Her voice was shaky, strained as she spoke, but there was no mistaking the pain in her words. She had never been this vulnerable before, her usual guard down, her eyes locked on his."Marcus..." Her voice trembled as she exhaled, wiping away a tear that threatened to spill. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, but the exhaustion was nothing compared to the weight of what she had to confess."I... I never wanted to tell you this. I couldn't... I couldn't bear to see the disappointment in your eyes." She took a shaky breath, the words coming in stilted bursts. "But you need to know. You have to know the truth."Marcus stood still, the faintest flicker of disbelief crossing his face. He had always known Mary carried a heavy burden, but this? This was something different. His heart pounded in his chest, unsure of what to expect, but sensing that whatever she was about to say would shatter the quiet of their world.Mary's voice lowered as she recounted the details, the words dark, filled with unspeakable horrors. She told him of how Elliot, once the fun and charming man who had swept her off her feet, had slowly revealed his true nature. How the first time they had been intimate, he had seemed different, colder... but she didn't see it coming. She described how it escalated—how the man she had trusted turned into a monster."After we... after we... he... he started changing. He became cruel. Violent." Her breath hitched, her eyes blanking as if reliving the moments. "I didn't know what to do. And then... then it got worse. He... he hurt me, Marcus. Physically, sexually. I couldn't escape." She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper now, the words jagged, hard to form. "He... he made me do things. Things I didn't want to do. He would... he would force me to take drugs, Marcus. He... he controlled me. I didn't know how to fight back anymore."Marcus stood motionless, his eyes wide, his mouth open slightly as if trying to understand the enormity of what she was saying. Each word she spoke felt like a punch to his gut, as if his breath was stolen from him, leaving him gasping for air. His mind couldn't catch up with the reality of her story. How could he not have seen this? How could he have let her suffer alone? His heart hammered in his chest, conflicted between disbelief and the urge to pull her into his arms, to protect her from everything that had happened.Mary's face twisted in anguish as she continued, her voice barely audible now. "I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to leave. I... I jumped from the window, Marcus. I couldn't even think straight. My ribs... they were broken, but I couldn't care. I just had to get away from him." Her hands shook as she reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his arm. "I ran back here. I couldn't stop running."The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of her confession hanging between them like a heavy fog. Marcus couldn't speak. The words wouldn't come. He stood there, paralyzed, his mind racing to process everything she had said. The woman he loved, the woman he had known so well, had been through hell—and he hadn't known a thing. The guilt gnawed at him, sinking deep into his chest."No..." His voice cracked, barely a whisper. "I... I don't believe it. How could he do that to you? You... you're..." He trailed off, unable to form the words.Mary lowered her eyes, her face crumbling as she quietly admitted, "I didn't know what else to do. I was broken, Marcus. And I didn't have the courage to come back to you. I was afraid you'd reject me... judge me. So I kept it hidden. But it's eating me alive. I couldn't carry this anymore. I need you to know the truth."Marcus took a step back, his eyes still wide with disbelief. His chest tightened, as though every breath he took was heavier than the last. The man who had violated her, taken away her sense of safety, had been living under his nose the entire time, and he had never seen the signs. He had been so focused on his own life, his own success—he hadn't noticed the torment she had suffered."I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice broken. "I'm so sorry, Mary."She nodded, her tears flowing freely now as she collapsed against the terrace railing, her body shaking with the weight of the confession. "I was so scared. And now... I just want to go back to how it was. I want to be with you again, Marcus, but I don't know if you can ever look at me the same way."Marcus stood there, paralyzed with emotion, his heart racing in his chest as he struggled to process everything. The woman he had loved was broken in ways he could never have imagined, and all he could do was stand there, unsure of how to fix what had been shattered.