Chloe
How had it come to this? How had we fallen so far?
Why wasn't anything going according to plan? I was supposed to be married to the love of my life, have children for him, be the perfect housewife. That was how I was trained, that was how I thought it was supposed to be.
So, why? Why was the man I had loved for a long time doing this to me?
Once, I had loved him with everything I had. Logan was my first love. My only love. We had been everything to each other as teenagers.
I had been willing to sacrifice everything for him. Even when my father threatened to kill him if I didn't leave him, I had to push him away to save his life. I still remembered the look in his eyes when I coldly rejected him, shattering both our hearts. I hated every second of it, but what choice did I have? My father would have destroyed him.
And then, five years later, everything changed. Logan had returned, no longer the poor orphan boy I'd fallen for, but one of the richest men in the country. I was so happy for him. I thought fate had brought him back to me. When he asked for my hand in marriage, and my father immediately accepted, I thought my dreams had finally come true.
But it had all been a lie
Nothing was as it seemed. He hadn't come back because he loved me—no, he came back for revenge. He wanted me to feel the same pain he had felt when I left him, convinced that I had betrayed him. But none of that mattered to me, because all I wanted was for him to see how genuine my love had always been.
But,
"Take off your clothes. Let's make you another baby."
His words echoed in the room, and my heart pounded in my chest. My stomach clenched in disgust as I stared at him in disbelief.
I couldn't believe what I had just heard. This man….the man I had loved for so many years. He might be many things but someone like him would never think of doing something like that to me. He would never try to take advantage of me.
This must be a mistake. A terrible mistake. He would explain everything, and he would let me go. He wasn't that type of man.
"Logan, what are y—"
"Shut up and take it off, Chloe. Or should I take it off myself?"
I stared up at him, searching his face for regret, hesitation, and love. For basically anything to confirm that what he had just said was a mistake, or maybe a slip of the tongue. But the way he looked at me, like I was nothing more than a whore and not his wife, confirmed everything.
"Then, I will do it myself."
"No," I whispered, shaking my head in panic. "No, Logan, stop this."
I tried to push him away, my hands pressing against his chest, but he grabbed my wrists, holding me firmly in place.
"Don't you want this?" he said, as though he were doing me a favor. "You've always wanted this, right? You've always wanted me to touch you instead of Amelia. Well, I'm doing it now. I'm giving you what you've wanted, so just take it. Be the perfect wife that you're always pretending to be and don't resist me."
My mind reeled at his words, and a bitter laugh almost escaped my throat. It was true, wasn't it? Once upon a time, I had wanted this. I had wanted him. I had wanted his touch, his love, his warmth.
But not like this. Not like this.
I didn't want him to take advantage of me. No matter how I felt towards him. This was wrong. Even if he was my husband, he shouldn't do this.
"No, I don't want this. Stop this, Logan. I'm sorry, I will apologise to Amelia. So, please stop this."
He ignored me, his hands moving to the straps of my dress. I froze, tears blurring my vision as his fingers brushed my skin.
I should have known ever since then.
He treated me like I was nothing during our marriage. At first, I tried to understand him, to love him, but then the suspicion began. And then, one day, I caught him with Amelia. Our maid. The shock of it broke me in ways I didn't think were possible. It broke me so completely that I lost my child.
Our child.
I wanted to leave him then. I wanted to run far away, to escape the nightmare my life had become. But my father wouldn't let me. Divorce was out of the question, he said. I had to endure. To save face. To keep the family's reputation intact.
So I endured. Three years of humiliation, of bending over backward for a man who didn't love me. Three years of suffering while Amelia smirked in the background, taking everything that should have been mine.
I was tired. Tired of the pain. Tired of the cold. Tired of being belittled, used, discarded. Tired of this marriage, of this life.
I wanted out. I wanted freedom. I wanted peace.
Logan's hands gripped the straps of my dress, and I felt his fingers begin to pull. My body screamed at me to fight, to push him away, but my voice was stronger.
"I want a divorce."
Logan froze, his hands pausing mid-motion as he stared down at me in disbelief. "What did you just say?"
I swallowed hard, my chest heaving as I gathered the last shreds of my strength. "I said I want a divorce,"
His eyes darkened, his grip tightening on my shoulders. "Do you think you're in any position to demand that from me?" he growled.
I stared up at him, tears streaming down my face. My body trembled, but I refused to back down. "I can't do this anymore, I can't live like this. I'm done, Logan. I'm done with you."
For a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he released me, his hands dropping to his sides. He stepped back, his eyes boring into mine.
"You're done? You think you can just walk away from me?"
"Yes, I deserve more than this. I deserve better than you."
His lips curled into a cruel smile, and he leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear. "We'll see about that. You can't run away from me, Chloe. You are my wife, my property, I own you and you belong to me. You are mine until your last breath."
With that he walked out of the room.
The door closed behind him, and the room fell silent.
For a moment, I just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the empty doorway. Then, like a dam breaking, the tears came. I buried my face in my hands as sobs wracked my body.
What was I supposed to feel? Relief? Regret? Anger?
I felt everything and nothing all at once. One part of me was relieved—relieved that I had finally said the words that had been suffocating me for years. I wanted a divorce. I had finally done it, finally stood up for myself.
But another part of me wanted to take it all back.
I was such a fool. Why had I waited so long? Why hadn't I left the moment I caught him with Amelia? Why hadn't I left the moment I lost my baby?
The memories surged me. The pain of finding them together, the shock that had stolen the life growing inside of me, the emptiness that followed. I should've walked away then. I should've left it all behind—him, this house, this entire miserable life.
But I hadn't. And now I was here, broken and alone, crying on a bed that no longer felt like mine.