Prepare the divorce and ruin your husband by Mark Twain 4
Chapter 4
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One second the road was there. The next second everything exploded. BANG.
The car was hit hard from the side. Metal screamed. Glass shattered. The world flipped. I slammed into the seat, my head snapping forward, my chest crushed tight. Ryle screamed my name.
Before I could even crawl toward him, the door was ripped open.
Then hands grabbed my hair. I was dragged out and thrown onto the road like trash.
I twisted, reaching back. “My son… please, my son is inside…”
A boot came down on my spine.
All the air left my lungs.
“You still worrying about other people?” a man laughed above me. “You’ve lived too easy. Today you learn what pain feels like.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I tried to say.
My mouth barely opened before a slap cracked across my face. Stars burst behind eyes. Warm blood ran down my chin.
They didn’t touch Ryle.
my
I heard him crying inside the car. Someone said, annoyed, “Leave the kid. Madam only wants the woman.”
The slap came fast. My head snapped to the side. Blood filled my mouth. Everything spun.
They tied my wrists to the back of the car.
I realized what was about to happen and started begging. I screamed Ryle’s name again and again until my throat tore itself raw.
The engine revved.
Then I was dragged.
My body scraped against the road. Stones ripped through my clothes, my skin, my bones. Pain was everywhere, loud and sharp and endless. My arms felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets. My knees burned. My back screamed.
They laughed.
Someone filmed it.
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Like I was nothing.
Like pain was entertainment.
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I don’t know how long it lasted. Time broke apart. I remember stopping. Hands loosening the rope. Someone kicking me once more for good measure.
Then nothing…
When I woke up, it was quiet.
Too quiet.
Moonlight spilled over rows and rows of gravestones. A cemetery. Funny. I felt safer there than anywhere else. Dead people never hurt me. Living ones always did.
I dragged myself to the road. Every step felt unreal. Like my body belonged to someone else.
When the sky started to lighten, my strength finally gave out. I collapsed right there on the roadside.
“Ma’am? Can you hear me?”
I opened my eyes to bright lights and white walls. A nurse was adjusting something in my arm.
Pain hit all at once. Everywhere.
“Where’s my son?!” I croaked. “Where is Ryle?”
She looked startled. “He’s here. He’s okay. He had a fever earlier but it’s gone now. He’s sleeping.”
I turned my head.
Ryle was on the bed beside mine, small and pale, an IV taped to his hand. Dextrose. His lashes rested on his cheeks. Breathing steady.
I cried without sound.
They cleaned my wounds. Asked questions. I answered only what I had to. I pulled the hospital gown tight, hiding my scars, hiding myself.
By evening, they discharged us.
Just like that.
Ryle clung to me the whole time, his arms tight around my neck like if he let go I would disappear.
“Mommy,” he whispered over and over. “Are you hurting? Are you okay now?”
I kissed his hair. “I’m okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.”
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He looked up at me with those too old eyes.
“Why do people always hurt us?” he asked softly.
I had no answer.
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I went back inside the hospital to settle the bills.
I stood in line, quiet, numb.
Then I heard her voice.
“Dave, I’m really fine now. You’re worrying too much,” Roxanne said, light and sweet.
My body froze.
David’s voice followed, low and gentle in a way I had not heard in years. “The doctor said you need to be careful. They said there’s a risk with the pregnancy.”
She laughed softly. “I know. I’m used to it. Yesterday was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have upset Isabella.”
My hands curled into fists.
I turned.
David was staring at me like he had seen a ghost.
“Isabella?” he said.
Shock hit him first. Then his face hardened.
Roxanne hid behind him like a scared child, fingers clutching his sleeve, body shaking
on purpose.
“Please don’t look at me like that, sister,” she whispered, “I didn’t do anything online. You’re frightening me. I’m barely pregnant. The doctor said I can’t be stressed. After I give birth, if you still hate me, you can do whatever you want. I’ll leave. I won’t fight.”
Her words sounded soft. Too soft. Like rehearsed lines. Then David stepped forward, blocking me completely. His eyes were cold, sharp.
“She almost lost the baby yesterday because of you,” he said. “You posted things, stirred trouble, ruined the wedding. Do you know how much stress you caused her?”
I opened my mouth.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to pull up my sleeves. Show him the bruises. The wounds. The body that was barely holding together. I wanted to ask him why my blood never counted. But the look on his face killed my voice.
He was disgusted. Like I was something rotten he wished would disappear.
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Ryle squeezed my hand.
Hard.
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His little fingers were ice cold. His head lowered slowly, shoulders curling in like he was bracing for a hit. He didn’t cry. He didn’t speak. He just trembled beside me, eyes fixed on the floor.
My chest tightened so badly it hurt to breathe. I wrapped my arm around him and pulled him close, pressing his head into my side.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “Mama’s here.”
David glanced at us. Just once. Then he sneered.
“Nice act,” he said flatly. “Both of you. If there were awards for this, you’d win. Pretending to be sick, pretending to be broken, just to get my sympathy. Do you really think I can’t see through it? The real victim here is Roxanne.”
Roxanne suddenly bent forward with a soft cry. “David… my stomach hurts…”
That was all it took.
He didn’t even think.
He picked her up and ran toward the doctor’s area like she was glass. His shoulder smashed into mine as he passed and I fell.
“Fuck! Get your ass away from here, Isabella!”
My elbow hit the marble floor hard. Pain shot up my arm and straight into my skull. I sucked in a breath but no sound came out.
He never looked back.
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