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I scoffed. “Yourhusband? He’s barely a decent man. If he were, you sure as shit didn’t tell me about those times.”
“You sound like a jealous shrew,” Hana replied, sounding like herself for the first time since this horror began.
I cleared my throat. “I’m not, though.”I so was.
Hana was just calling me out on my shit. Something we normally would do to each other. I didn’t know if I should be relieved or annoyed that she mustered up some spunk. Maybe she was finally getting out of her funk.
“If you want him, then go get him,” I advised, though the words tasted bitter on my tongue “No one is stopping you, but you.” While it hurt to say such, at the end of the day, it was what a true friend would say. Or at least I hoped so.
I wanted more, but now wasn’t the time to approach Hana with all that. Another day perhaps, when her thoughts didn’t linger on that asshole she called a husband.
“No, I’m just stupid,” she sniffled. “Jojo? How did it all get so messed up?”
I pulled her close, my hand brushing against her breast. Sweet Christ, not even a monk could say no to Hana’s temptation. I needed another dick session. Stat.
“You just got pulled into a twisted game you didn’t know you were playing. It’s the twins that are at fault, not you.”
She gave no response to that observation. I didn’t know if my words had penetrated her skull, but I hoped they did. I hoped her silence was her seriously contemplating what it would mean to go back to her marriage with that douchebag.
After a few, I moved to lift her off me. “Come on, baby girl. The bath is cooling.”
Fuck. I wished I could swallowthosewords. It had been a long time since I slipped up and called Hana by the secret nickname I had for her. I only called herbaby girlin my dreams.
Luckily for me, she was apparently too lost in her own head to catch the endearment I accidently dropped. Yay me.
Chapter Three
Hana
My world shattered into a million pieces the day Logan found me on that factory floor. I didn’t give one flying fuck about Luke’s death. But the death of my child?
I could move on from the sodomy, the rape, the severed ring finger, the trauma of it all. But the other…no. There was no moving on after losing my baby. How could I recover from a loss that great?
The doctors told me that not only did I lose my child, but there’s a high probability I would never have children. The ruination of my womb? Yes, I’m grieving. I’m in so much pain. Physically and emotionally.
Luke didn’t deserve my tears. The piece of shit was going to sell me. All while being buried deep in Bethany’s cunt. It wasn’t fair that she was pregnant. A fact that revealed itself before Luke’s death. I caught them red handed as he was balls deep telling her she had to abort, so his plans wouldn’t get ruined.
I could no longer bring biological children into the world, and she got to keep hers? It wasn’t fair. I know that there’s always adoption or surrogacy, but I still would miss the experiences. So, I’m allowed to fucking grieve, and screw anyone who says differently.
As for Logan, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I looked down at my missing finger, shocked it’s still gone. It reminded me of the trauma. It was a daily reminder that my marriage was just as broken. My ring finger getting sliced off, the starkly barren space on my hand was as empty as my heart. Lucky me.
Joseph wrapped me in a towel, helping me dry off as I numbly stood there, lost in my thoughts, lost in my grief. He then carried me from the bathroom to my bedroom and placed me on the bed. He mumbled something about getting food for me and hightailed it out of there. Who could blame him? After what went down, I’m hardly a person much less a woman.
I didn’t want to eat anything. I couldn’t sleep. I was just past the point of caring about myself. My child was dead. There’s no set period of mourning for that. Or perhaps I cared too much? I couldn’t tell anyone my mind right now. I’d left the building and wasn’t sure when I would be back.
Joseph had been there for me, but he wasn’t my husband. I needed Logan, and he was nowhere to be found. Where was the man who wouldn’t let me go? The man who literally kidnapped me and forced a baby into my stomach?
Maybe he didn’t want me anymore now that I wasn’t a whole person.
I looked around, my bedroom making me feel claustrophobic. The walls were closing in, and I could smell myself. Not healthy living, that’s for sure. I’m certain people were thinking I needed to bounce back. That I should be back at work and living my life. People didn’t understand what losing a child does to someone. Even if they’d never held that child.
I was losing my fucking mind. I needed to get out of here.
I climbed to my feet, shakily. The room spun, probably from a lack of food. I stumbled and headed out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. Joseph was standing at the stove cooking.
“It smells so good.” I said, startling him.
“What are you doing out of bed, Hana-Banana?” Joseph didn’t turn around. He had an apron on that saidKiss the Chef.I knew because I’d bought it for him years ago. He looked adorable, even with his shoulders slumped over.
