Page 8 of Pay the Piper

Of course that isn’t what happens. Because of every question you’ve ever been asked, that is the one that summons bile into your throat. That is the one that takes you back to a decade ago, when you were a hopeful newlywed, resplendent in a white dress that was ruined as soon as your husband’s friends started tearing it from you in the honeymoon suite.

It’s past midnight by the time they leave, and it takes everything in me to crawl to the bathroom. Whatever they drugged me with is wearing off, and the merciful numbness that allowed me to float away for the hours of…

I can’t stop the vomit that finally forces its way free, bile burning my nostrils and throat and splattering onto the floor of the shower. Conor left after he finished, having gone first and last in line. Of all the “men” who my brand-new, lawfully wedded, till-death-do-us-part husband invited to fuck me on our wedding night, none were as vicious as he was. He ripped me bare to start the festivities and egged everyone on all night, a monster the likes of which I could have never imagined. As soon as we were alone and his mask flipped, I tried to rationalize what he was saying and how he was acting. It was so far from the sweet Conor who had courted me tenderly and gained my trust…

There’s nothing left as I dry heave, the first of the bruises that I’m sure will soon cover my body already beginning to bloom across my arm. The water ran red when I first crawled inside, but now it’s barely-there pink. Everything hurts so badly that there’s no telling what sort of long-term damage they’ve done…

With a bang, the door to the suite bangs open, and I hear the proof that the nightmare I’ve been praying for is, in fact, reality.

“Niamh! Where the fuck are you?”

Even if I had the strength to answer him, the sound of the shower is a beacon leading my devil straight to me. He’s unimpressed by what he sees, roughly grabbing me under my armpit and yanking me to my feet. I barely manage to stay upright as he tosses me onto the bed and starts wrenching my legs apart again, fastening my ankles tightly to the corners of the bed and then moving to my wrists.

“No, please. I…Conor, I don’t understand. Why—?”

A backhand across my cheek and the disgusting, metallic tang of my bloody lip suffice to silence me, and I notice for the first time a slimy-looking man with a stethoscope lurking in the doorway of the room.

“You’re being a real drama queen about all of this. I was going to drug you again, out of the goodness of my heart, but since you just had to mouth off…well. Dr. Bradford can place your IUD without anything.”

“An IUD…what? I thought we wanted…”

It’s a testament to my delirium that I’m even considering the discussions Conor and I had about children. Those were in a past life. A golden era that, if it ever existed, is truly well and gone now.

“I’ll make sure to secure an heir at some point, but you’re no use to me if you’re fat and covered in stretch marks. Plus, the way I plan to…deploy you as an asset to my business partners, if you get knocked up any time soon, there won’t be a way to tell whose it is, anyway.”

The doctor is spreading me apart now, and even as battered, torn, and raw as I am, I can feel that he’s not wearing gloves. All I can do is whimper as he inserts what must be a speculum and opens it wider than I’ve ever felt at the gynecologist.

“No, Niamh. We’ll do a cycle of egg retrieval and then at some point hire a surrogate to carry a kid or two. In the meantime, this will last ten years.”

A flash of white pain, the worst cramp I’ve ever felt in my life, and then blissful nothingness. My last fleeting thought is that maybe, just maybe…my wish has been granted.

Maybe I’m dead.

Thank fuck he never pushed to have those eggs fertilized. At least to my knowledge, anyway. I’ve wanted to be a mother for as long as I can remember, but I’d do anything necessary to prevent Conor from being a father.

“No, I don’t have any. Maybe someday.” However long it took me to gather myself and answer, it looks like Ellie senses not to pry. Regardless, I turn the conversation back to her so she doesn’t have the chance. My own mask is firmly back in place.

“Do you skate too?”

“Nope!”

“Oh, I just assumed that you might, since your brothers…”

“Trust me, I’ve tried. They inherited every last drop of skating ability. I’m horrible.” She pauses and places her hand on her lower stomach. “I’m hoping this little nugget will get their daddy’s genes. I’m sure between Teddy and my brothers, he or she will be skating before they can walk.”

“I’ve always said toddlers learning to skate is the cutest thing in the world. I used to teach lessons, and they were by far my favorite. Of course, I didn’t have a million running around like the kids today.”

“You must have been pretty good to teach lessons!”

“I wasn’t bad. I had the opportunity to go to nationals, but I mar…” Fuck, you’re blowing your cover, dumbass. “Um, messed my knee up pretty badly.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” Ellie’s expression goes from that of genuine sympathy to a look of sudden realization. “Do you still skate?”

“I do occasionally, mostly on the lakes when they freeze over. Why?”

“Well, I am sort of looking for a teacher.”

“Already trying to line someone up for the baby?” I laugh.