LOVE'S QUAGMIRE [18+]

Chapter 42: Past- II

"Punishments always depended on his anger, rather than the mistake, that what the workers whispered here in the estate."

"I can't believe anyone could endure so much," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Adrian was a monster, Daphne," she whispered, shaking her head as memories of the past flooded back.

I flipped another page, bracing myself to read about the next phase of Evelyn's painful journey.

Friday, January 21st, 1994

5:30 a.m.

Dear Elsie,

It's been nine months since I last talked to you, and honestly, it feels like a lifetime. Every day is the same monotonous, soul-crushing routine. I wake up early, cook, clean, and serve Adrian his dinner. Later, he finds some fault, punishes me, and then rapes me until morning. You might be shocked, but don't worry about me—I've become numb to it. I used to cry and curse my existence, but now I've just... accepted it, accepted my fate. I've resigned myself to the fact that there's no escape from this hell.

Right now, I'm in my room, and I've just given birth to a healthy baby boy. He's sleeping beside me, so peaceful and innocent. Adrian brought in a midwife, staff, and a doctor for the delivery. He named the baby "Zephyr Magnus Reynolds." As I look at him, I can't help but think of my little Catherine. Zephyr has hazel eyes, like mine, and soft, tiny brown hair on his head like Adrian.

These past pregnancy months have been like an exhausting workout. For the first two trimesters, I did all the household chores alone, despite my growing belly and aching body. Adrian gave strict orders to the staff not to help me. God knows who he met who suggested ways to ensure the baby would be a boy, but he followed their advice religiously.

He made me eat specific foods and didn't allow any cravings. He even decided what I wore and insisted on certain colors like blue. He organized some ceremonies, which I found stupid, but he believed they would ensure the baby was a boy. He made me work all day because he wanted the baby to be hardworking like him. He also made me read some nasty books, believing that would make the baby intelligent, just like him.

But the things that were consistent were how he used me for sex after every consultation and for his own pleasure, especially for anal sex. He warned me saying, "If you don't give birth to a healthy, beautiful baby boy, I'll turn that baby into my own personal slut and sell her to some sick bastard desperate for a fuck. Don't even think about failing me." These were his exact words when I was in my second trimester.

Sitting in the gynecologist's cabin, memories of my first pregnancy flooded my mind. Clutching my necklace, I whispered prayers for a different outcome this time. And finally, the moment arrived. The doctor's words echoed in my ears, confirming what I had desperately hoped for: I was carrying a baby boy. 

A rush of conflicting emotions washed over me. On one hand, I felt a glimmer of joy at the thought of welcoming a boy into the world. But on the other hand, a deep sadness settled in the pit of my stomach.

The toxic environment I was trapped in, with a man who showed no love or compassion. My heart ached at the thought of raising my precious son in such a toxic atmosphere, knowing that he would be subjected to the same cruelty and abuse that I endured every day.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I grappled with the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. How could I find happiness in the midst of such darkness? How could I protect my son from the pain and suffering that awaited him in this cruel world?