Chapter 3 - The Cowardly Husband
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I ignored Brenda’s glaring eyes and turned my attention directly to the man I had vowed to spend my life with. My wrist was throbbing with a fiery intensity, and my patience had completely evaporated.
"Luke," I said clearly, my voice carrying across the silent dining room. "Will you help me clean up this kitchen?"
Luke was slouched on the plush living room sofa, a half-empty bottle of beer dangling from his hand. He didn’t even stand up. He looked at me, then looked at his furious mother, and let out an exasperated sigh, as if my injury was a massive inconvenience to his relaxing evening.
"Just deal with it for a minute, Hannah," Luke groaned, waving his hand dismissively. "We have guests over. Please don’t make a big deal out of this tonight."
Just deal with it for a minute.
That exact phrase echoed in my mind, unlocking a floodgate of repressed memories. It was the exact same phrase he had used three months ago when Brenda had sneaked into our bedroom and taken three hundred dollars from my top drawer without asking. It was the same phrase he weaponized when she brazenly wore a vintage diamond necklace that had belonged to my late mother, claiming it was "just for a party."
It was the same pathetic excuse he used when they demanded I cancel two major interior design contracts to stay home and nurse my father-in-law after his knee surgery, completely ignoring the fact that Chloe lived less than ten minutes away and didn't work on Fridays.
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I looked at Luke, truly seeing him for the very first time. He wasn't a partner. He was a coward who used me as a human shield to avoid his family's toxic wrath.
"I'm not making a big deal out of it," I replied coldly. "I am injured. I cooked for six hours. I am asking my husband for basic help."
