Numb

Something was wrong. I could feel it. I've been worried about her ever since I left her in his room. 

She appeared so solemn and quiet. To be more specific, numb. As if she had lost everything. 

This is not how newlywed women behave, especially when their husband is such an influential and desired man. Something was clearly wrong. 

Something I couldn't quite pin down.

Her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hide, I couldn't forget the sorrows and fear that were reflecting in those hazel eyes. Was she perhaps coerced into this wedding?

But why would Kevin force her when he didn't lack anything himself?  

He's perfect. He's every woman's dream. 

 

Jesus, nothing was making sense at all. I couldn't reach any conclusion. Her pale face and those sad eyes were all I could recall. She exuded an aura of melancholy and uncertainty, as though she was going through something very hard.   

My mind wandered back to the first time she was brought here. She seemed fine. Yes, she was quiet back then too, but not sad. 

I still remember the first time I saw her, when she smiled politely at me, and how it instantly warmed my heart. She's a lovely young lady with sparkling eyes that could captivate anyone and her sweet demeanor could melt hearts.

The second time she was here, she seemed worried and in utter desperation to meet him, and now this? 

This sudden wedding. 

What exactly is their relationship like? For some reason, these questions kept disturbing my peace over and over, but I chose to ignore them and focus on something else. 

Perhaps I was hallucinating and there's nothing like that. Even if there were, I had no right to intrude on their personal space. But I truly wished she was all right.

Anxiety always makes my heart beat abruptly. Inhaling sharply, to calm the inner turmoil, I walked out of my room. Unlike other servants, I live inside the mansion. Glancing up at the gigantic wall clock, my aging eyes read 2:45 am. Few hours left till dawn. Time seemed to crawl by as I battled with my restless mind.

Sleep was still miles away from my eyes. I couldn't sleep at all and decided to have my black coffee. 

After making myself a hot cup of coffee, I was heading back to my room but a familiar sound of footsteps caught my attention. 

Looking up I saw Master coming downstairs. He was casually dressed and his hair was neatly done. Probably leaving for the club again. But I thought he would have skipped it today considering the fact it's his wedding night. 

His gaze fell on me. He paused as though a fleeting thought halted his walk. 

"Take care of her," Master commanded, words quick, concern apparent on his face and then he left as soon as I nodded in agreement.

Leaving my untouched coffee on the counter, I decided to visit her as per his instructions. I knocked on the door once, then twice but received no response. 

Is she asleep? 

The lights were on, though. I timidly touched the door handle, too apprehensive to enter a newlywed's room at this hour. 

God knows in what condition she would be at the moment. Fingers fidgeting in nervousness, I entered the room, and the sight I witnessed left me speechless. It was a mess.

 

The lights were on, there were clothes on the floor, and master's strong cologne lingered in the air. As I got closer, I could see the duvet dangling from the bed and the disheveled sheets with bright stains of red at the center, and between the messy sheets, she lay motionless, her back to me. 

In the peculiar silence of the room, I could hear my heartbeat quickening as anxiety crept through my body. She wasn't moving. Not at all. 

I gulped and strained my eyes to see if she was even breathing, which, thank goodness, she was, albeit very slowly.

What did he do to her? 

I took quick steps over to the bed, and the sight stunned me. She's crying. Her gaze was fixed on the moon, as sparkling tears made their way down her rosy cheeks. 

One, then another, and then another. Tears were continuously streaming down her eyes. 

She didn't seem to be aware of my presence. I called her but she didn't respond. Bending down, I gently touched her upper arm making sure not to touch the fierce bite mark that was on her shoulder. However, she didn't look at me. Her teary eyes were looking at the night sky, blankly. This worried me a lot.

As she was lying on her stomach, my gaze was drawn to her naked back. Red marks and scratches abounded her pale skin. I peered lower and realized her wrists had finger imprints as well as if he held them too tightly. 

He didn't force her, did he? Although it may seem impossible, her condition suggested otherwise. It's not the way people treat their wives on the first night. Or ever! 

How could he leave after hurting her so badly? It wasn't lovemaking, he violated her. It was difficult to believe that Master did all this to her. 

Even though he dated a lot of women and even slept with many, I had never seen him treat women with disrespect. So why did he hurt her?

To rouse her from the world she was getting lost in, I hesitantly touched her wet cheek this time. Her gaze shifted from the moon towards me, blinking several times adjusting to the brightness of the room, she looked at me. 

The moment her gaze met mine, her hands fumbled over the white sheets hurriedly in an attempt to cover herself. She attempted to sit up, but the tense expressions on her face suggested that she was in much pain. 

"Good Heavens! Let me help you…" I leaned down hastily and put my hand on her bare back assisting her in sitting. I then aimed for the glass on the table while she rested her back against the bedpost. 

She didn't look alright.  No, she certainly wasn't.

"Here..." I brought the glass to her lips, but she held it in her right hand while her left hand grasped the sheets tighter against her breasts, hoping I wouldn't notice his brutality—those red bruises and marks all over her chest. However, those were too obvious to hide. 

My gaze returned to her eyes and then lowered to her bruised lips. Her bottom lip had a deep cut in the corner. I reached for a tissue and handed it to her so she could clean up the dried blood. 

Blinking back her tears, she sat up straight, allowing a better view of her upper body. At that time, I was at a loss for words or actions or anything. 

Her arms and neck were covered in hickeys, bites, and fingerprints. Those weren't love marks, but angry marks.

Her voice shook as she let out a small, "T-thank you," dodging eye contact. She reluctantly dabbed the blood with the tissue, and as she did so, a painful whimper escaped her lips. The cut was deep.

Not wanting to talk about him or anything related to him, I walked ahead and grabbed their clothes that were laying on the ground. I gave her a quick glance to see if she needed anything, but instead, I noticed that she was looking at the scattered clothes with a hint of sadness in her eyes. 

She must have had bad memories linked with them. My eyes glistened with compassion for her. 

Holy, I don't know what to do or say. I couldn't even ask if she was okay because I knew she was not. 

Everything seemed so strange, I thought she was someone special to him. Was I wrong? Does he not love her, but why do his eyes say otherwise?

I put their clothes on the couch and stepped forward to assist her as I noticed that she was having trouble standing. I put her arm around my neck and helped her to the restroom. 

"I can do it from here. P-please, leave," her voice was hoarse and it shook uncontrollably as she limped in and closed the door. With those pure-looking eyes, she exuded such innocence, and her tone was so gentle, concerns regarding her filled my heart. 

How did she end up with him? 

Restless, I stayed there in front of the closed door for a while wanting to help her, however, I took a reluctant step back once I heard noises coming from behind the door. The room soon echoed with her faint cries, shattering my heart. 

I wanted to talk to her but I knew it wasn't the right time. She was in no condition to talk about anything. I sighed deeply and walked out of the room, sadness coursing through my veins and prayers leaving my lips. 'God help her, give her strength.'

What else could I do but pray for this poor soul?

༻❁༺

The night was terrifying with snow storms hitting the window over and over again, the weather unexpectedly changed from serene to chaotic. 

Just like her life.

Painful whimpers escaped her lips as she dragged her feet toward the full-length mirror. Her right hand clenched the white sheet against her naked body while the left one held the cold wall for support. There's a noticeable limp in her walk. 

Emma took in a shaky breath attempting to endure the agonizing pain between her legs but it was futile. The hours-long session had sapped all of her energy. 

His stamina… he's a fucking beast. She couldn't even stand up straight, walking was next to impossible. 

As Emma gazed upon her own reflection in the mirror, her lips began to quiver and heart-wrenching sobs shattered the once peaceful silence of the room. Her pale skin was covered with hickies. There was a big bite mark on her shoulder. 

She was completely ruined with her neck covered in hickeys that were hurting, her eyes swollen, no clothes on, and her naked body wrapped up in a white sheet that had blood spots and splashes in the middle—her virginity blood—she looked dirty. 

She felt dirty. Emma's eyes welled up with more tears.

The reality of her life was brutal and gut-wrenching. She had been naively waiting for the perfect person, someone she could wholeheartedly love and trust. And this is what she got. A monster. A fucking beast.

Even though she didn't fight him when he was destroying her, he still manhandled her. His marks adorned her neck, while her chest was not pardoned by the ruthlessness of his mouth. 

He sucked and kissed and licked her however he liked, tongue, teeth, and lips all actively engaged in tainting and claiming her. His marks were everywhere on her body. She smelt like him. She belonged to him.

It had already been an hour. Emma was still sitting under the water, washing away his filthy touch. She rubbed her body vigorously, trying to remove his marks, trying her best to distract her mind, but all she could recall was his eyes. 

His eyes, she could never forget the darkness of those eyes. They were filled with lust so intense that her body shivered just by recalling it. His lustful growls were still echoing in her mind, setting a wave of distress to run through her body. 

She had a sliver of hope that he wouldn't force himself on her, but it died in this very room, on his very bed. 

Perhaps she had forgotten that nothing is ever exactly as it appears.

Appearances can be deceiving. Words are veiled. 

As the memories kept returning, playing right before her eyes as if she were reliving those traumatic moments again, tears that were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes began to melt down her pale face. 

He touched her. He touched her all over. She could still feel the sensations his touch caused. The way his hands ran all over her body touching her in places she didn't want to be touched. And the way he kissed her. It was killing her. The shame and grief were making it difficult for her to even breathe.

Minutes later faint sobs echoed in the room along with the sound of the water droplets. Emma sank to the floor. Resting her head against the misty glass wall, she finally wept her heart out. She let out the tears she had been holding back for days. 

Warm tears mixing with the cold water left no traces of the weakness she was showing at the moment. Her cries soon filled the space. 

How could she be so naive as to let him play with her? Money, a mere piece of paper, gave him the right to trample her dreams and dignity. 

Money, is needed for everything, and everywhere. If you have it, you're highly respected, if you don't, then you're destined to be subjected to never-ending humiliation. The world would be much better if the medium of exchange could be changed to love, care, and respect rather than mere pieces of paper. 

Half an hour later, Emma limped back to his bed, numbly—her mind was a mess. Where did she go wrong? What sin did she commit for facing such brutality of her fate? 

Too hurt to sleep, she spent the night looking at the crescent moon that had witnessed her demolition a while ago. Though her tears had dried up and she wasn't crying anymore, her heart and soul were still weeping.

The sex wasn't as painful as the feeling it left behind. He won!