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She lets out a scream and rips her fist from my grasp. She starts to beat my chest. I stand still between her and the mirror as I watch her let out whatever she needs to. She can beat on me, fucking hurt me all she wants, but I am not going anywhere. I am staying right here and walking with her through this.
She needs to know that what she believes to be true about herself is not true. None of it. Looking at her, I see the most beautiful, strong, and breathtaking woman. And nothing will ever change that.
“Nicollete,” I whisper, wrapping my arms tightly around her. She shoves her face into my chest and begins to sob more as I lean down, shoving my face into the side of her neck. I might not be able to take away her thoughts or emotions right now, but I can experience them with her. I can show her that I am different than those men.
She might not believe me right now, but she will see by my actions that I am different. I might be a monster, but I am a different kind of monster. With her and only for her, I will be gentle and kind. And I will do my best to have patience and be understanding.
Two things that are not my strongest suit, but for her, I can try. For her, I will be successful. She deserves to be loved, honored, and worshipped, and I will make sure that the man who does those things to her is me and me alone.
I pull back, and she does the same. We both look at each other. She is more present than she was before. She is not gone at this moment. I release my hold on her and lift my hand, placing my fingertips underneath her chin.
Just one fucking taste.
I lean in and gently connect my lips to hers. She doesn’t pull away from me but doesn’t lean into me, either. But I will fucking take it.
I pull back and keep my lips close to hers, my eyes searching hers for a moment.
“I am not going anywhere,” I confess softly.
“You will,” she whispers back. She pulls her head back and steps away from me. I stand still as she turns around, walks into the bedroom, and goes to the destroyed bed.
That will be replaced later today. The evidence will be destroyed. She doesn’t need to feel ashamed for what she has done to my bed, our bed. I will buy her anything and everything she will ever need.
She will never have to ask me for anything because it is already hers, just like I am.
I am not giving up on her. I might not be a patient man, and this might test me in ways I have never been tested, but that will not force me to walk away from her. She thinks I will leave. She fucking believes I don’t want her. Well, that will fucking change. Soon she will never fucking second guess my need and desire for her.
21
Nicole
Week Three - Voices
“The voices tell me this is who I am.”
The only time my body and brain have allowed me to leave this room is when Christian guides me out. This place is strange, and I don’t understand the rules. Christian hasn’t said anything about rules. My mind tells me I don’t belong here, and this isn’t my house. These things in this room aren’t mine; they all belong to him. I have nothing, no clothes, no objects to claim as mine. Everything I had was in my father’s house. If Sebastian was telling the truth, my father probably got rid of all of my stuff when he gave me away, or better yet, when he fucking threw me away like a piece of fucking trash.
The dream of him buying me a pony, standing up and clapping during graduation, walking me down the aisle, and giving me away at my wedding will never happen. I am nothing, just like he said in the video.
I look over the closet full of clothes, lean in, and take a deep breath, taking in Christian’s scent and his smell is everywhere: on these clothes, the sheets, my skin. He has completely consumed me. I see he is trying, and my heart feels it, but my guard is up no matter what he does or says. My brain is screaming at me, my body hurts, everything just hurts. The bruises and cuts are fresh and remind me of the nightmares of my dreams. Once again, reminding me of the nightmare I actually fucking lived for three years.
So many baths and showers have been taken, and I still fucking feel dirty, disgusting, and marked. The same memories flood into my head of the old bucket, the rag I found on the ground, the unknown of if the water in the bucket was fucking water. Even after all the baths and showers, the water still feels harsh against my skin; my body is still adjusting. It always seems to take time to adjust, and after a few moments, my body relaxes, and my heart slows down.
You fucking Dirty Bitch.
You fucking Whore.
You know you like it Slut.
Welcome home, Puppet.
You are fucking Broken.
My breathing increased as my vision went blurry, their words echoing loudly inside my head, my racing thoughts making me feel completely out of control. In the end, all of them were right. They were telling me the truth. I am all of those things, and once Christian finds out that these things are, in fact, who I am, he will not want me anymore. He could have anyone he wants, but he won’t want me once he sees who I am and who they made me become.
A monster.
The fresh air from the open door hits against my face, making me turn around. The balcony door is open, the rain is still coming down, and my feet take me outside. No second thoughts; my hands reach out and grab the railing as I scan over the trees, grass, and flowers. The weather is getting worse here. I don’t know where we are, but I know we are not any place I have been before.
