Chapter Twenty

I let out a groan as the bright light pierced my eyes. After being confined in that dreary mansion for months, it felt overwhelmingly intense. I had been doing everything I could to shield myself and my wife from harm.

I considered the possibility of sneaking out at night when she wasn’t around, thinking no one would notice—not the guard dog she had stationed or even her. But I knew that if I left, Amery could be in danger. The car accident wasn’t just a stroke of bad luck; it was a consequence of my own greed, my desire for my lover.

I pressed my hand to my forehead, wincing in pain, and attempted to gather my thoughts again. The incessant murmurs around me grew louder, becoming almost unbearable.

As my vision began to clear, I focused on the stark white walls surrounding me, trying to piece together what was happening.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

Darius!!

I looked at him in disbelief. No matter the reason for his presence, I had never felt such joy at seeing him.

"Can I give you a kiss?" I said with a playful grin, but his expression twisted in discomfort.

"He's still under the influence," the man said, prompting a familiar giggle from someone nearby... Wait a minute...

"Reese!! How? Why are you here?" Confusion washed over me, leaving me bewildered.

I groaned again, clutching my head and curling up into a fetal position. The throbbing was relentless, as if I had consumed an entire barrel of the strongest alcohol.

The tubes connected to me revealed the scant information I was after.

I feel a sense of relief here in the hospital. It signifies that these people saved me from that place. A place I could run from, but had to return there anyway. Where I was free but the most caged.

Doctors hurried in, performing their usual checks, chattering nonsensically to Reese before leaving us alone.

As the pain eased, I adjusted to a sitting position and faced them once more.

They were both perched on either side of the bed.

"What happened yesterday? My memory is quite hazy." Everything felt clouded to me. The only time I was free from that fog was when Willow would leave the house for hours. That was the only moment she would uncuff me, and I knew better than to act too clever. Her watchful gaze was everywhere, in every nook of this town. Outsmarting her in her own game was beyond me. All I desired was the chance to truly eliminate her. That made the most sense to me.

"What do you recall?" Reese seemed cautious, her eyes darting between Darius, me, and the phone in her hand. Was she waiting for a call or a message, or perhaps she had already informed Amery and was anticipating her arrival?

It was all speculation, as I could only perceive her anxiousness, which didn’t align with the thoughts I had.

"Maybe I had a dream about being intimate with Amery, followed by Willow's shadow striking her on the head while she was in bed with me? But to be precise, I think it was when Willow left the room and upped the dosage, she makes me inhale through the incense." I admitted, wincing as the foggy memories became even more indistinct.

Darius and Reese exchanged a knowing glance, but I couldn’t grasp their understanding.

"I believe you might need to draft another divorce paper, as you are clearly on the verge of losing your wife." Darius clicked his tongue and rose to his feet.

I was never good at puzzles, but he was making it increasingly difficult.

I stared back at Reese, gesturing to clarify what he meant, and she let out a groan.

"What’s going on, guys?" I asked, feeling frustrated.

They exchanged glances and began to speak in unison, which only confused me about who was saying what, but the gist was clear: I was in deep trouble.

"So, the dream I had yesterday wasn’t just a dream?"

"No," Darius replied flatly.

"And I didn’t sleep with Amery, but with Willow?"

"Yes," Reese said with a shrug.

"You both were there to save me... like... like with Amery, and it was my wife who actually hit Willow on the head, not the other way around?"

They both nodded vigorously in agreement.

I buried my face in my hands, groaning more than I probably should have.

So, to sum it up, all those five months spent trapped in that house, dreaming about being with my wife, were a complete fabrication. I had been with Willow all along!

Maybe I sensed something was off from the start, or maybe I didn’t. Many of those moments and memories still feel dreamlike, or nightmarelike, while others are too hazy and lost to even register in my mind.

Maybe at one point I had it all figured out, but maybe somewhere as the days stretched, I lost it to recognize it anymore.

How did my life end up like this?!

"Where is she?" I sighed deeply, feeling utterly drained.

Reese raised an eyebrow, "Amery or Willow?"

I shut my eyes, bracing for another migraine that throbbed behind my eyes.

"My wife, Reese! My wife!" I gritted my teeth and glared at her. "Don’t take pleasure in my suffering, you sadistic woman. I have no energy left except a fierce determination for revenge, and you’ll be my first target for all the wrong reasons."

She glared back, narrowing her eyes before furiously typing a message.

“She is here.”

I instinctively knew who it was the moment the doors swung open, revealing my wife. This was no mere figment of my imagination; she was right there in the flesh.

"Mrs. Rowan," I breathed, my heart racing in my chest. It was that same feeling I experienced when I first laid eyes on her in college, surrounded by her friends as they discussed their research.

Back then, she had looked furious, her nose crinkled and her jaw set tight. So young and yet so captivating to me.

The past felt worlds apart from my present. Now, standing before me was a grown-up Amery. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her clothes suggested she hadn’t changed in days. What I saw was undeniable; she had let herself go. There was no gentle smile or familiar expression on her face—only the pain etched into her features, a testament to the horror her life had become.

She remained frozen in place, her eyes red and swollen, a clear sign of tears shed. I was likely the cause of her suffering. I had hurt her.

I longed to be near her, to touch her, to hold her, to kiss her. The thought of feeling her warmth felt like a distant dream, especially after everything I had endured. How could she possibly want someone as filthy as me by her side?

There are things that can be forgiven and things that cannot.

I struggle to articulate my story in a way that would allow her to judge it fairly.

In a sense, I betrayed my wife, even if it wasn’t my intention.

Did Willow push me into it?

Technically, yes.

Did I engage with her willingly?

Yes and no. In my defense, I had no idea it was her I was with. In my mind, I was with my wife the entire time. She had drugged me, making me envision Amery, and whenever she wanted, I was in the mood to go along with it.

"Hey. People seem to call you Amery, but I feel that Mrs. Rowan has a nicer ring to it for you. You sound like mine." That’s what I said when we first met, and she must have thought I was quite the flirt.

She glanced down, and our friends hesitantly exited the room, leaving us the space we needed.

I had so much to express to her, and while it seems effortless in films to tear away the IVs and rush to your beloved, I knew better. I could easily envision my skin being ripped apart, which wouldn’t bother me, but it’s the last thing I’d want my wife to see after everything she’s endured. Still, I could barely feel my limbs; months of substance abuse had taken their toll on my body.

“Hey, baby. Can you at least look at me?” My voice was heavy, teetering on the edge of breaking under the weight of emotions I had bottled up, especially as I watched her tremble.

She glanced back at me, then turned away, kicking the door. Clearly, she was trying to suppress her feelings, and I was the source of her confusion.

“Mrs. Rowan, please don’t hate me. I swear, what you saw wasn’t my intention. If it weren’t for the drugs, none of that would have happened. In my mind, I was with you that night, and every night—”

“Shut up.” Her icy tone silenced me instantly.

She turned back, tears streaming down her cheeks, and without realizing it, I felt a cold trail of tears on my own face.

Clenching my teeth, I wiped my eyes and focused on her.

Anything but hate. That’s something I can’t stand to see in her anymore.

“Did she hit you too?” Amery asked, her voice shaky and filled with sniffles, yet she didn’t move closer.

I shrugged, my gaze dropping to my fists tightly gripping the warm comforter draped over my legs.

The dark bruise encircling my wrist spoke volumes about what had transpired.

"Sometimes, yes. But it was more like a shit show. She thrived on the pain she inflicted." A smirk crossed my face as I recalled the heated metal she had her damn dog press against my back, torso, or thigh. Eventually, when her interest waned, she would pit her little guard against me until one of us collapsed in a mess of blood and injuries. It was always her minion who fell because I couldn't afford to lose and give her any more control over me than she already possessed.

"Why was she targeting you? What did you possess that she desired?" Another question, and it seemed she had pieced together the fragments, just waiting for me to assemble them into a coherent narrative.

I pulled my knees tightly to my chest, hiding my face in my lap, filled with dread at the thought of revealing the truth, but it was inevitable. There was no way to avoid it.