The Garage Held His Secrets

n Moo

ore heading upstairs, I did a casual walk-through of the first floor, my heart thumping when I checked the security camera panel by the back door. As I su

in, quickly taking it with him into the garage. Through the crack in the door before he shut it, I caught a glimpse of a box. It wasn't music

ise on my arm, dabbing it with ointment. Adam didn't even glance at it. He was

y bedside lamp, he spoke, his voi

thinking about

o him. "A

divo

it felt like a business transaction. He wasn't as

untered, my voice

long? Marry the stable woman with the nice house, establish residency,

irst," he said

e elbow to face him. "Because if you' re not happy, you can leave. You can walk out

r a long moment before letting out a heavy sigh and

to his back, the words tasting like poison. I couldn't stop m

one night?" he snapped, his voice muffled by h

land. I thought about how different people could be in a marriage, wanting completely different things. I wanted a partn

focation. But I felt trapped, with no clear path out tha

ing jolted awake by a faint scraping sound. I opened my eyes. The digital c

garage. He had snuck out of bed, thinking I

had to see what he was

irs and listen at the door. But my body stopped short. My left a

own. My he

st. The other cuff was attached to a thick, h

seeing. It was impossible. This was my bed. My room.

tal bit into my wrist, cold and unforgiving. I was trapped. He had locked me in. He had chain

was a prisoner. I was a character in one of those horror movies, the woman chai

eak of the floorboards in th

anging the chain so it was hidden beneath the blankets. I turned onto my side, facing away from his side

gger, stronger, and clearly, more ruthless. I had to be sm

a muscle. I felt him carefully, expertly, unlock the handcuff from my wrist. There was a soft click,

I felt him gently nudge my should

still. I didn't even

e cocktail of scents drifted over to me. There was the faint, familiar smell of his cologne, but underneath it was something else. A chea

in there with him? The perfume... was it another woman? My mind reeled

e. I lay awake for the rest of the night, my mind a turbulent sea of fea

e a testament to my sleepless night. I looked at myself in th

house, in this bed, with this man. The psychological torment was