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“Tell me somethingnew,” I roll my eyes.
“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t lie on purpose. When I…” she clears her throat. “After the fire, I wasn’t well…mentally. Amnesia wasn’t the only side effect of it. I reconstructed my entire reality so I wouldn’t hurt anymore,” she murmurs, her voice so desolate it fucking makes my heart squeeze in my chest.
“What do you mean?” I frown.
“I deleted everything that was traumatic and instead I made myself believe a different version of the truth. I think it was my mind’s way of protecting me, but all the little bouts of memory I had were manufactured scenarios that confirmed to me that I was a victim. That I…” she swallows hard. “Only by believing I’d been the victim—the wronged one—could I go on.”
“So, you’re saying that everything you told me before you got your memories back was false?”
She nods. “Not entirely false just…heavily edited.”
I gulp down as a wave of discomfort hits me.
God...nothing was real, was it?
“Did Sergio ever lay a hand on you?” I ask. And if he didn’t, then what about her scars? What could have causedthose? I’ve seen her medical records and regardless of her lies, that much is true.
Shewasbeaten. Shewason the brink of death.
But how?
“Yes. At first. Before…” her voice clogs with emotion. “Before I found my footing within the hacienda, he wanted to make me pay.”
“Make you pay?” I frown.
“For what I did to him on the wedding night,” she whispers, a look of hurt flashing across her face.
Oh, God. No… No, no, no.
“Did he rape you?” I grit my teeth as I pose the question, because this was my biggest nightmare—that she’d remember the past and remember…
“He didn’t,” she says, and a relieved breath leaves my body. “I don’t know if he would have. He was the type of person who wanted willing submission, but he was also the type to get very, very mad at being defied.”
“What happened?”
“I hurt him. Bad enough that he wanted to kill me every single day but could not because of my family. So, he made me hurt, too, in other ways.”
And that’s when she starts telling me what happened. How she’d gotten to Mexico, confused about everything but still holding onto the idea that by marrying Sergio she was somehow saving me. She tells me about how worried she’d been when I disappeared and that she truly believed her brother had something to do with it.
But then come the worst details.
The damned wedding night. And she…
“My God, Noelle,” I whisper, pride reflected in my voice. “You cut his dick off?”
I’ve certainly come to realize how strong she is, but fuck me… I would have never imagined something like that.
She nods, a big smile on her lips.
“I don’t even think it was a conscious thought. I was in so much pain after he beat me that I simply struck out. That it happened to be his dick,” she angles her shoulders into a lazy shrug, but the smirk on her face tells a different story.
“So, he beat you some more for it,” I mutter, my fists clenching.
“Yes. Until I realized I couldn’t take it anymore. Until…” She takes a deep breath. “Your phone still has battery, no?” She suddenly asks.
“Yes, why?”
“Load the videos from the SD card. You’re never going to believe me fully until you see with your own eyes what happened. Watch that and then I’ll give you my side of the story.”
