Broken Hearts...

Six

Harry stood in the living room, his heart pounding in his chest. April's eyes were cold, her expression unreadable. The air between them crackled with tension, the silence heavy and oppressive. Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady himself."Take off your shirt," April ordered, her voice flat and emotionless.Harry hesitated for a moment but then obeyed, pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. The room felt colder without the fabric's protection, and he shivered involuntarily.April walked around him slowly, her eyes raking over his exposed skin. "You need to learn, Harry," she said quietly. "You need to understand that there are consequences for disobedience."She moved to the corner of the room and picked up a thin, leather belt. Harry's breath hitched as he watched her, fear coiling in his stomach. April approached him again, the belt dangling from her hand."Turn around," she commanded.Harry turned, facing the wall, his muscles tensing in anticipation. The first blow came without warning, the belt snapping across his back with a sharp crack. Harry bit down on his lip, stifling a cry of pain. The second blow followed quickly, then a third, each one leaving a burning line of agony across his skin.April's strikes were methodical, each one measured and precise. Harry's back felt like it was on fire, the pain radiating through his entire body. He clenched his fists, trying to stay silent, but a low groan escaped his lips."Do you understand why this is happening?" April asked, her voice calm and controlled."Yes," Harry gasped, his voice trembling. "I understand.""Good," April said, delivering another sharp blow. "You need to be stronger, Harry. For Emma's sake."Harry nodded, tears stinging his eyes. "I'll be stronger," he whispered.The punishment continued, each strike driving the lesson deeper into his mind. Harry lost track of time, his world narrowing to the searing pain on his back and the relentless rhythm of the belt. He focused on Emma's face, her innocent smile, her bright eyes. He had to endure this for her.Finally, April stopped. Harry stood there, trembling, his back a lattice of burning welts. He heard the belt drop to the floor, the sound almost deafening in the silence that followed. April walked around to face him, her expression still cold."Look at me," she ordered.Harry lifted his head, meeting her gaze with difficulty. His vision was blurred with tears, but he blinked them away, forcing himself to focus."You will learn," April said quietly. "You will become the father Emma needs. Do you understand?""Yes," Harry whispered, his voice raw. "I understand."April nodded, satisfied. "Good. Now go clean yourself up."Harry nodded, bending down painfully to pick up his shirt. He made his way to the bathroom, each step a new agony. He closed the door behind him and caught sight of himself in the mirror. His back was a mess of red welts, some of them already beginning to bruise.He turned on the faucet, the sound of running water soothing in the silence. He splashed his face, trying to gather his thoughts. He had to stay strong, had to endure this for Emma. She needed him, even if he was broken and battered.Harry gently cleaned his wounds, wincing at the sting of the water on his raw skin. He dressed slowly, every movement painful. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he took a deep breath. He couldn't afford to break. He had to be there for Emma, had to find a way to protect her.When he finally emerged from the bathroom, the house was quiet. April was in the living room, her demeanor calm and composed. She looked up as he approached, her eyes cold."Remember, Harry," she said softly. "This is for your own good. And for Emma's."Harry nodded, unable to find the words. He made his way to the bedroom, his body aching with every step. He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind a whirl of pain and fear.As he lay there, he thought of Emma, her innocent face, her bright smile. He had to survive this, for her. He had to find a way to endure, to protect her from the darkness that surrounded them.Harry closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep. The pain was a constant presence, a reminder of his reality. But in the midst of it all, he held onto the image of Emma, her laughter, her joy. She was his light in the darkness, his reason to fight.And fight he would. No matter what it took.