Tangled Again With My Ex Husband.

on the side wall of the guest room I now call mine. It's a small,

my reflection, not to admire it, but to remember what I've b

little I sleep. My arms are thin, too thin, with small bruises all over from bumping into things while rushi

omach and take a deep breath. No one can know I'm pregnant

belongs to the man who's

s. And I've been frozen ever since. Would they look at me differently if they k

tter smile.

ose enough to hide any changes. I smooth it down and brush my fingers through my hair be

er the living room. She's seated, looking

esn't

sed t

" she says without loo

No "please." No kindness. Just co

t the right amount of sugar. I place the cup on the small si

sip. Then

of this family? You're nothing but a whore who trapped my son f

rd them a thousand times, today they dig deeper. Maybe it's because

hat video leaked. The night I was drugged. The night her son was

me. Tea splashes on the floor. My hands shake, but I don't

urning from leaning down. I hear her mutter

dozens of companies, spreads their name across the country, and walks with pride. But here I am

At least on paper, I am. Bu

accepted me

nted this. I n

't always ask

and up, plastering the f

up, ma'am," I say softly

fore the tears fall. I don't want to cry. I'm

little more chi

ightly more cream. Just how she likes it. I hold the cup ti

s it, eyes sca

es anot

"What is this? Didn't I

t right. I know I did. Is

nt door

cond. Maybe someone decent wal

ch a familiar scent of oak an

an K

. The last time I was close enough to smell it

im is a woman. Long copper-red hair. Tall, slim, and dressed in

ree weeks si

home with s

ever treated me like a wife. Bu

lly fell on m

ks with a sneer. "Didn't t

the guest room is cleaned up," he says to me.

his bottom lip as

gag. My sto

too

before I can stop it, I gag lou

stares, sharp

Please

abs my arm. Her grip is hard, and

yes n

you