The Scars She Hid From The World

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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I stared at myself in the mirror, rolling my eyes. I just couldn't believe that I would dress in such a revealing way, but I had no other choice.

Shane Hayes and I had been married for two years. Today was our wedding anniversary. He had been seldom in the mood to have sex. If I didn't take the initiative to seduce him, it worried me that I might lose him. Thus, I decided to go all out tonight.

Seconds later, I heard a noise outside the door.

I took off my coat and walked out of the room in a red slip dress.

"Honey, I really missed you!" I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

Shane pushed me away, eyeing me up and down. I noticed that he was in a trance for a moment.

Truthfully, I was happy, thinking that he might like seeing me in such an outfit.

"Why are you dressed like that?"

he asked, walking to the sofa to sit down.

"Do you remember what day it is today?" I asked, sitting next to him, hoping that he knew the answer.

For a few seconds, Shane contemplated before he said, "What day is it?"

Disappointment flashed through my heart, but I kept on smiling.

"Nothing special. I was just kidding." I threw myself into his arms, sliding my hand under his shirt and rubbing his chest. "Do you want to take a shower, honey? I'll prepare the water."

"That's not necessary. If you have nothing else to say, I'm going to head back to the study to get some rest."

He then pushed me away and walked towards his study.

As I sat on the sofa, I clenched my fists and felt my fingernails digging into my palms.

Ever since I got pregnant, he had moved into the study, because he said that he didn't want the baby to get hurt or something.

I was only twenty-six years old. I was married and pregnant, but I had to sleep by myself every single night. Nowadays, I had been living a lonely and miserable life.

I had once gone online to ask around in certain forums. One particular comment piqued my interest. Someone mentioned that my husband's lack of interest might stem from the fact that he had already seen lots of other women's bodies.

Shane was an obstetrician by profession, so this made sense.

But there was one tiny detail that kept nagging at the back of my mind.

Each time he stayed in his study, he would always lock the door. We were the only people in this house, so there was no need to lock the door. It made no damn sense! It made me wonder if he was hiding something.

I had been thinking long and hard about this for days, until it became my biggest concern. I was so troubled by it that it began to disrupt my daily life.

Not wanting to continue on guessing, I had installed a bug under his bed this afternoon.

As soon as I went back to my room, I put on earphones.

Once I had gained access to the bug, I heard the unmistakable sound of panting and moaning. I felt a lump in my throat, and my eyes welled up with tears.

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