When I die, I Swear my Husband will be Broken

I escaped a trafficker's truck after three days and dragged myself home, only to find my belongings in garbage bags and a familiar voice laughing inside.

Finally got rid of her, my husband, Liam. His voice was light, completely unburdened. The payout from those traffickers was more than enough to clear the debts and get you that designer bag you wanted, Chloe.

A sweet, familiar giggle followed. "You're the best. I was so tired of pretending to be the sweet little stepsister."

The air vanished from my lungs. My legs felt like lead.

I hadn't been kidnapped by random thugs in a dark alley. I hadn't been a victim of bad luck.

I was sold. By my own husband and my stepsister.

A violent tremor shook my body, but rather than bursting through the front door to scream and confront them, a cold, eerie numbness washed over me. I couldn't face them yet. I just wanted to grab my most precious belongings and run.

I slipped quietly around the side of the house, my bruised bare feet making no sound as I pushed open the unlocked back door. The house was exactly as I had left it, yet it felt entirely alien.

I crept down the hallway and pushed open the door to the master bedroom.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Everything has changed. My bed was gone. My vanity was replaced by a massive makeup station overflowing with Chloe's expensive perfumes.

But what made my heart stop wasn't the furniture.

My paintingsthe ones I had spent hundreds of hours pouring my soul intowere gone from the walls. And the small wooden shelf in the corner was completely bare.

My mother's ashes.

Panic, hot and blinding, finally shattered my numb state.

I didn't care about the danger anymore. I turned and sprinted down the hall, bursting into the living room.

"Where is she?!" I screamed, my voice raw and broken. "Where is my mother?!"

Liam jumped, the crystal wine glass slipping from his hand and shattering into a hundred pieces across the hardwood floor.

He spun around, all the blood draining from his face. For a split second, he looked terrified, like he had seen a ghost. Chloe gasped, clutching the front of her silk robe, her eyes wide with shock.

But then, Liams expression shifted. The panic vanished, replaced by a mask of absolute, fake astonishment.

"Daisy? Oh my god, Daisy!" He took a step toward me, his voice trembling with manufactured relief. "You're back! What happened to you? Why are you covered in dirt?"

I stared at him, my chest heaving, sickened by how easily the lies slipped from his tongue.

"Where are my mother's ashes?" I choked out, ignoring his act.

Liam stopped, running a hand through his hair and putting on a perfectly devastated look.

"Daisy, I... I'm so sorry. You've been gone for three days without a word. I thought... I thought you left me."

"Left you?" I repeated, my voice shaking.

"Yes!" Liam pleaded, his eyes wide with fake sincerity. "You just vanished! I thought you finally got sick of me and ran off with that guy from your art gallery. I was heartbroken, Daisy. I was out of my mind with grief."

Chloe stepped up beside him, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "We were so worried, Daisy. Liam was a wreck. I had to move in just to make sure he was eating."

"I was so angry and hurt that you abandoned us," Liam continued, his voice dropping into a pathetic, apologetic whisper. "I couldn't bear to look at your things. I packed up your clothes, your paintings... I hired a cleaning crew to clear the room. The ashes... they must have accidentally thrown the urn out with the rest of the clutter. I'm so, so sorry, baby. I didn't know."

If I hadn't stood outside that window and heard him bragging about the trafficker's payout, I might have believed him. I might have fallen into his arms and cried.

But I saw the brand new designer bag sitting on the coffee table. I saw the guilt hiding behind his fake tears.

They threw my mother away like garbage.

"You thought I left you," I whispered, a bitter, hollow smile forming on my lips.

"I did," Liam said, taking another step forward, reaching out for me. "But you're home now. We can fix this"

I held up my hand, stopping him in his tracks.

I didn't scream. I didn't argue. There was no point in fighting with monsters who could sell human flesh and smile about it.

I reached for my left hand and pulled the gold wedding band off my finger. I walked over to the trash can and let it drop. It landed with a pathetic little clink.

Liam's fake smile faltered. "Daisy, what are you doing?"

"Don't worry about it," I said softly, staring right through the man I once loved. "If I have no place here, then goodbye."

I turned my back on them both, walked out the front door, and stepped into the dark.

The freezing night air hit me the second I stepped off the porch, biting into my bruised, bare feet. I took five steps into the dark before reality slammed into me like a brick wall.

I had no money. I had no ID. I didn't even have a coat.

If I walked away now, I would freeze to death on the streets, and Liam and Chloe would get away with everything. I wasn't going to make it that easy for them.

Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I spun around and marched right back through the front door. Liam and Chloe were still standing in the living room, staring at the trash can where I had dropped my ring. They jumped as I stormed past them without a word, heading straight for the hall closet.

I yanked out my old suitcase, threw it onto the floor, and started frantically shoving whatever clothes I could find inside. Sweaters, a pair of jeans, my winter coatanything to keep me warm.

"Daisy, what do you think you're doing?"

Liams heavy hand suddenly slammed down on the lid of the suitcase, forcing it shut. I flinched, my heart hammering against my bruised ribs.

"You're not going to leave me," he said, his voice dropping its fake, apologetic tone. His grip on the luggage was iron-clad. "You will stay right here."

"Take your hands off my things," I spat, my voice shaking with a mixture of exhaustion and pure rage. "I don't want to be here anymore, Liam. I don't want to look at you. Let's get a divorce."

"A divorce?" Liam scoffed, a cruel, mocking smile twisting his lips. He crossed his arms, looking down at me. "You've been acting strange for months, Daisy. You disappear for three days without a single word, and now you just waltz back in and say you're leaving? Where would you even go? To your paramour? That guy from the art gallery?"

"I am not cheating on you!" I screamed, the raw pain in my throat tearing. "I was hurt! I was kidnapped, Liam! I was tied up and thrown in the back of a freight truck! Look at me!"

I held up my trembling, bloodied hands and gestured wildly to my scraped, filthy feet. "Look at what they did to me!"

Liam just rolled his eyes, completely unfazed. "Stop making things up, Daisy. It's pathetic. Kidnapped? Really? Is that the dramatic story you're going to tell everyone to cover up your little affair?"

"You sold me!" I cried, shoving his chest, though he barely moved. "I heard you talking to Chloe!"

Suddenly, Liam's demeanor shifted again. He reached out, gripping my shoulders tightly, his eyes wide with a sickening, manufactured desperation. "Daisy, please. Just stop this. Stop lying. I'm willing to forgive you for running away. I love you. Please, just stay. Don't throw our marriage away."

Before I could scream at him to let me go, the front door clicked open, and the sharp clack of heels echoed in the entryway.

"What on earth is all this screaming about at this hour?"

My blood ran cold. It was Eleanor. Liam's mother.

She stood in the doorway, draped in an expensive cashmere coat, her sharp eyes sweeping over my disheveled, dirt-streaked state with absolute disgust.

"Mom," Liam sighed, playing the exhausted, wounded husband perfectly. "Daisy just got back. And now she's demanding a divorce."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed into terrifying slits. She stepped into the room, her presence suffocating. "Absolutely not. You are ruining this family's reputation, Daisy. Running off for days, coming back looking like a filthy vagrant, and now screaming in the middle of the night? Divorce is not condoned in this family. We do not break our vows, even if you have made a disgraceful mistake."

"Mistake?!" I choked out, tears of sheer frustration and heartbreak finally spilling over my lashes. "Eleanor, listen to me! They sold me to traffickers! They threw away my mother's ashes!"

I looked at her, begging for a shred of humanity, a shred of belief. But Eleanor just stared at me with cold, dead eyes. She didn't care. To her, I was just a nuisance tarnishing her son's perfect image.

Chloe peeked out from behind Liam, clutching her silk robe tightly around her waist. She looked at Eleanor with wide, innocent eyes.

"Oh, Eleanor, it's so sad," Chloe whispered, her voice dripping with fake, poisonous sympathy. "She's been acting so erratic lately. I think wherever she went... it broke her mind. She's completely delusional. She must be crazy."

"I am not crazy!" I sobbed, lunging for my suitcase again. "Let me leave!"

"No," Eleanor commanded, her voice like a whip. She nodded at Liam. "Take her luggage. She is not leaving this house."

Liam snatched the suitcase from my hands, tossing it effortlessly down the hallway. I lunged for the front door, but Eleanor stepped in my path, her hand gripping the brass doorknob.

She pulled the heavy oak door shut, and the sound of the deadbolt sliding into place echoed through the room like a gunshot.

"If she's unwell, Liam," Eleanor said coldly, her eyes fixed on me like a predator cornering its prey, "then we need to keep her safe. Right here. Where no one can hear her."

I backed away, my chest heaving as I took in my surroundings. They had shoved me into the spare bedroom at the end of the hall.

I couldn't stay here. Panic clawed at my throat until my eyes landed on the small nightstand in the corner. Sitting right next to a dusty lamp was an old, cream-colored landline phone.

My heart leaped.

I lunged for it, snatching the receiver off the cradle. A dial tone hummed in my ear. It was a lifeline. My hands shook so violently I could barely press the buttons, but muscle memory took over as I dialed the only person I knew would answer at this hour.

Marcus.

Liam and his mother loved to throw Marcuss name around as my "paramour," but the reality was almost laughable. Marcus was the manager at the art gallery where I sold my paintings. He was also my closest friend, fiercely loyal, and entirely uninterested in women. He was bisexual, leaning heavily toward men, but kept his private life strictly hidden from his conservative family. We were confidants, nothing more. But right now, he was my only hope.

The line rang once. Twice.

Click.

"Marcus?" I breathed, cupping my hand over the mouthpiece, terrified Liam would hear me through the door. "Marcus, please, you have to help me. I'm at the house. They're locking me up. Liam and Chloethey sold me, Marcus. Please call the police"

A sharp, high-pitched giggle echoed through the earpiece.

My blood ran cold.

"Oh, Liam, come listen to this!" Chloes voice chimed through the phone, dripping with venomous amusement. "See? I told you. She really is having an affair. Shes begging her little boyfriend to come save her."

I stared at the receiver in absolute horror. It was an extension connected directly to the phone in the downstairs kitchen. Chloe had picked it up the second she heard the dial tone.

"You sick" I started, but the line went dead.

Seconds later, heavy footsteps thundered up the stairs. The deadbolt snapped back, and the door flew open, slamming violently against the wall.

Liam stood in the doorway, his face twisted in a mask of furious, heartbroken betrayal.

"Seriously, Daisy?" he spat, stepping into the room and backing me into the wall. "You're locked in a room because you're having a mental breakdown, and your first instinct is to call the man you're cheating on me with? From my house?"

"I am not cheating on you!" I screamed, pressing myself against the cold plaster. "He's my friend! I was calling for help because my husband is a monster!"

"Pathetic," Liam sneered, shaking his head. He looked so genuinely wounded that if I didn't know the truth, I would have felt sorry for him. "I gave you everything, Daisy. I gave you a home, a life, and this is how you repay me? By running off, sleeping around, and then coming back here to scream abuse at my family?"

"Stop it!" I cried, covering my ears. "Stop lying! There's no one else here! You don't have to put on this sick performance!"

"Performance?" Liam stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous, quiet whisper. "You're the one putting on a performance, Daisy. Look at you. You're hysterical. You're completely unhinged."

"Let me out!" I shoved him with all my remaining strength, trying to dart past him toward the open door.

But Liam barely stumbled. He caught me by the shoulders, his fingers digging painfully into my bruised skin, and shoved me backward with terrifying force. I tripped over my own feet, crashing hard into the small nightstand.

The dusty ceramic lamp wobbled violently before toppling over the edge. It hit the hardwood floor with a sharp, deafening crash, shattering into dozens of jagged pieces.

I scrambled backward against the wall, my chest heaving as I looked up at him.

"You need time to think about what you've done to this family, Daisy," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "We'll talk when you're ready to be a rational, obedient wife."

He turned on his heel and walked out.

The deadbolt slid into place, sealing me inside.

"Liam!" I screamed, pounding my fists against the solid wood until my knuckles bled. "Let me out! You can't do this!"

The only answer was the fading sound of his footsteps descending the stairs, followed by the faint, muffled sound of Chloe's laughter from the living room below.

I slid down the door, my strength finally giving out. My knees hit the floor, and I curled into myself as the crushing weight of reality settled over me. I was completely alone. No one knew I was here. No one was coming to save me.

I wept until my lungs burned and I had no tears left to shed. The room grew dark as the sun set outside, leaving only a pale sliver of moonlight filtering through the cracks of the painted-shut window.

I slowly lowered my hands, my breath hitching in the silent, suffocating room.

That was when a faint glint of light on the floor caught my eye.

I blinked through my swollen, tear-blurred vision. There, resting on the dark hardwood just inches from my trembling fingers, was the shattered remains of the ceramic lamp.

I slowly reached out, my fingertips brushing against the cold, jagged edge. I stared at the sharp shard in the dim light, my reflection staring back at mebroken, battered, but still breathing.

And as my fingers wrapped tightly around the glass, a dangerous new thought began to take root in the darkness.

Without thinking straight, I slit my wrist, and let the blood wrapped me.

I was supposed to be dead.

The last thing I remembered was the cold, jagged edge of the ceramic lamp, the agonizing sting, and the warm rush of blood before the darkness swallowed me whole. I had welcomed it, thinking it was my only escape.

But instead of the quiet void, I woke up to the sterile, rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor and the overwhelming smell of antiseptic.

My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights of a hospital room.

Before I could even process that I was still alive, hushed, angry voices drifted through the crack in the door.

"I told you to just let her bleed out," a harsh whisper hissed. Chloe. "It would have solved everything," she continued, her voice dripping with irritation.

"And have the police crawling all over my house?" Liam shot back, his tone clipped and furious. "People would talk, Chloe. I couldn't just let my wife die in the guest room. There would be an investigation."

"Is that the only reason?" Chloes voice shifted, laced with a sudden, venomous insecurity. "Are you sure? Or did you see her bleeding and suddenly realize you still love her?"

Liam let out a cruel, dismissive scoff that made my stomach turn. "Don't be stupid. Of course not. I saved her because we need her. The buyers are furious. They paid us a fortune, and now theyre demanding their merchandise. If we don't hand her back over to the traffickers tonight, they'll come for us."

Panic exploded in my chest. I had to get out. I tried to gasp, to rip the IV from my arm and run, but my body refused to obey.

My limbs felt like lead, pinned to the mattress by whatever heavy sedatives they had pumped into my veins. I was completely paralyzed.

Footsteps approached the door. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my breathing to stay slow and even. I had to play dead. I had to pretend I was still unconscious.

The door clicked shut. Someone leaned over me, their cheap, familiar perfume suffocating me. Chloe.

"You're pathetic, Daisy," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "When they take you away this time, don't even think about coming back. Liam is mine now. He always was. And just so you know while you're rotting in whatever hell they take you to... I'm pregnant with his baby."

The heart monitor beside me betrayed my shock, its rhythmic beeping suddenly spiking into a frantic flutter. Chloe let out a dark, satisfied chuckle.

Before I could even force my eyes open to look at her, a heavy, chemically induced darkness dragged me under. I went completely blank.

When I woke up again, the sterile smell of the hospital was gone. It was replaced by the choking stench of diesel fuel, stale sweat, and rust.

The floor beneath me was vibrating violently. It was pitch black, and the deafening roar of an engine echoed all around me.

The freight truck.

Adrenaline burned through the lingering sedatives in my blood. I pushed myself up, my bandaged hands screaming in pain. I refused to be their pawn. I refused to let Liam and my own stepsister win.

I stumbled through the suffocating darkness of the moving trailer, throwing my hands against the cold metal walls until I felt the heavy latch of the rear doors. I threw my entire body weight against it. I kicked, I clawed, and I pulled with every ounce of strength I had left.

Clang.

The metal groaned. I hit it again, screaming into the darkness.

Suddenly, the latch gave way. The heavy doors burst open, violently swinging outward and letting in a rush of freezing night air.

The highway blurred beneath me, a ribbon of deadly gray asphalt rushing past in the moonlight. The truck was moving fasttoo fast. But staying meant a fate worse than death.

I didn't think. I just closed my eyes, and I jumped.

The impact was catastrophic. I hit the asphalt, rolling violently as the rough ground tore at my hospital gown, my skin, and my bandages.

The world spun in a sickening blur of sky and road until I finally skidded to a halt in the dirt and gravel on the side of the highway.

My body screamed in absolute agony. I lay there in the dirt, staring up at the starless sky as my vision blurred. The truck's red taillights disappeared into the night, leaving me entirely alone in the deafening silence.

I couldn't feel my legs. My breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

As the edges of my vision began to turn black, a single, heartbreaking thought echoed in my fading mind.

I guess this is the end

Until suddenly...