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been lying to myself that I don’t remember, because it was too difficult to admit what really happened, but I remember it all.”

Her hand is shaking, but her voice is strong.

“I remember her sitting there every night and talking to me for hours. She gave me something good to hold onto. I remember Michael hurting me, too. I remember the sound of his voice, and his hand around my neck. I remember everything he did to me. Feeling trapped in my own body, unable to move. Unable to even open my eyes. Milla lowered the sedation without permission. She fought for me, so I’m going to fight for her.”

“Thank you,” I say to my wife, staring at her in awe. I am amazed by her strength.

“It’s not about you, Gabe. It’s about me and Milla. Besides, I said some truly awful shit to her, and she better fucking be okay so that I can apologize. Get me on a plane.”

Part III

Milla and Evie

Chapter 36 Milla, a few days before

I don’t know who needs to hear this… but please have sex with your man before you get married to him. He might have a weird fetish you don’t know about, like being a necrophiliac.

You just need to know these things. Peek under the hood before you buy the car. Please.

This is one life lesson I learned the hard way.

I thought the worst that could happen when you peek under the hood is that you discover his penis is small. But I was wrong. The penis is a gateway to a man’s soul—it can tell you everything you need to know about him. Is he a good person? Or is he sexually depraved? Is he kind? Or is he a major creepazoid?

Scenario: He might want to inject you with paralytics so that you can’t move during sex, because that’s what he finds hot. You being similar to a corpse. You might start to suspect that the reason you’re getting the best sleep of your life with his arms around you… is because he’s making you beverages with roofies in them.

He might have met a hot girl on Tinder, and found out she was going home to France… then purposely gotten her sick with COVID-19 while he was vaccinated. He might have caused her heart to stop and forced me and the other nurses to put her into a coma even though she didn’t need the ventilator. Even though I knew there was a chance she was strong enough to recover if we just flipped her on her stomach and let her lungs expand.

He might have done all of that so that he could keep fucking her every day at the hospital while she was unconscious. The best part of comatose bodies? They don’t decompose like the ones in the morgue. Yvette was the perfect victim for him.

This is all conjecture, crazy thoughts that enter my mind when I can’t move. When I’m too heavily sedated to even drag myself out of my own vomit. Waking up covered in the contents of your own stomach is an excellent way to make a person rethink her life choices. I’m having a lot of interesting thoughts.

The good news is… at least I woke up at all.

But is it good news? I remember how happy Yvette was when she woke up. I should also be happy to still be here right now, and try to forget everything that’s happened. Focus on the next step. Getting out of here. Getting these drugs out of my system. Getting the hell away from Mike.

But then where do I go? Tears spring to my eyes when I remember the state I was in before Mike started getting close to me. I had no job. Only one friend, who is surely so busy with work and her kid that she won’t even notice me missing.

And the person I love most—I couldn’t even call him on the phone.

Tears spring to my eyes.

“Gabe,” I whisper out loud into the empty room. It’s all I can do.

The worst part of this whole situation is not even what Mike did to me. It’s the fact that this marriage gave me something good to hope for, just for a second. It gave me a beautiful Sunday morning. A pleasant dream of having more lovely Sunday brunches in bed with my husband. And now that’s been ripped away too. I knew it was too good to be true. Just a fantasy that I could have something normal and nice. I’m right back where I started. Worse than where I started.

I came here looking to be responsible and heal myself, not to suffer more scars. I wanted to start a future with someone. I came here hoping to build a life, and I found death. The person I married prefers me dead. That’s how much of an awesome wife I am. He couldn’t go 24 hours without asking me to pretend I was dead.

I can’t help blaming myself. I probably should have looked for Michael’s wife and tried to talk to her about her experiences of being married to him, and why she left him. She could have told me about this. She could have saved me. But this is what happens when women don’t talk to each other or help each other.

Why didn’t Yvette tell me? She could have warned me, too. But she kept the identity of Sexy Babe top secret, acting like she didn’t even know Mike. I guess I was always destined to end up with Yvette’s unwanted leftovers.

In addition to my earlier advice about looking under the hood—before you marry a guy, talk to the girl he used to be with. See why she left him. Double check to confirm that he didn’t murder her. Just a suggestion. Oh, wow... I was just letting my mind wander, but what if Mike’s wife isn’t okay? Where is she? What if he made a mistake with the drugs and overdosed her?

What

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