Chapter 85: A Life Changing Mistake

Easter~

I stood frozen at the door, watching as the red taillights of Natalie’s car disappeared down the road. My heart hammered in my chest, my mind racing with everything she had just said.

Pregnant?

No. That wasn’t possible.

I knew my own body.

I hadn’t been sick, I hadn’t felt nauseous, and my cycle was only a little late—probably from stress. My life was stress. There was no way Natalie was right.

A sharp, guttural voice ripped me from my thoughts.

"EASTER!"

I flinched, my stomach twisting violently as my husband’s angry voice boomed from inside the house.

"Where the hell is my sandwich?!" Ruben roared. "I think you have a death wish. If you don’t get your lazy ass in here right now, you’ll get what’s coming to you!"

Panic surged through me. My feet moved before I could think, my hands trembling as I rushed back inside, nearly tripping over the doorstep in my haste.

The kitchen smelled like stale bread and burnt oil. The sandwich I had been making before Natalie arrived sat half-prepared on the counter. My hands shook as I slapped the slices of bread together, adding the ham and cheese as quickly as I could. My breath came in shallow pants, my body working on pure muscle memory.

It doesn’t matter what she said.

She doesn’t know me.

She doesn’t know my life.

I wasn’t pregnant.

I wasn’t.

With shaky hands, I grabbed the plate and hurried into the living room. Ruben sat sprawled across the couch, one leg propped up on the coffee table, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. His dark eyes, glassy from alcohol, landed on me the moment I stepped into the room.

I barely made it two steps before his expression darkened.

"The fuck took you so long?" he growled.

I swallowed hard, lowering my head as I approached. "I—I was making sure it was—"

His fist struck my cheek before I could finish the sentence.

Pain exploded across my face, the force knocking me sideways. The plate clattered to the floor, the sandwich landing facedown. Before I could react, his foot came down hard on my ribs.

I gasped, the air leaving my lungs in a painful whoosh.

"You think you can just take your damn time?" Ruben hissed. Another kick, this time to my stomach. My body curled in on itself, but I didn’t cry out. I couldn’t. I had learned a long time ago that screaming only made it worse.

"You think you’re too good for me now, huh?" His boot pressed against my back. "Maybe I should remind you who the hell you are, and who you belong to."

My ears rang. My body ached. My heart shattered all over again.

Somewhere in the distance, I could feel my daughter probably trembling in fear.

My beautiful Rose.

I forced myself to move, biting back the agony screaming through my ribs as I pushed up from the floor. I didn’t look at Ruben. I didn’t say anything. I simply stumbled away, cradling my side as I made my way to my daughter’s room.

By the time I reached the door, my legs barely held me upright. My fingers fumbled with the doorknob, but I managed to slip inside and lock it behind me.

I expected to find Rose curled up in the closet, her tiny body shaking like she always did after one of these nights.

But instead, she was... asleep.

Curled up on the floor of the closet, her little face peaceful, her hands tucked beneath her cheek.

A strangled sob caught in my throat.

She had slept through it all.

For the first time in a long time, the weight of exhaustion settled deep into my bones. I knelt beside her, brushing a strand of her golden-brown curls from her forehead. My sweet girl. My perfect, innocent baby.

She deserved more.

I wished—God, I wished—she would never have to know what it felt like to be trapped like this. I wished she would never wake up to bruises on her mother’s skin. That she wouldn’t grow up thinking this was normal.

But what way out did I have?

None.

There was no way out of this misery.

Unless...

Natalie’s words echoed in my mind.

"Meet me tomorrow."

"You should take a test."

"I can help you."

I had dismissed her at the time. She didn’t know what she was talking about.

But what if—

My fingers trembled as I pulled the blanket up over Rose’s small body. I placed a kiss on her forehead, then stood, glancing toward the locked door.

I made a decision.

I took the key and slipped it into my pocket. If Ruben tried to come in here, he wouldn’t be able to.

Then I grabbed my purse and quietly, carefully, unlocked the window.

The hot afternoon sun licked my bruised skin like wild fire, but I didn’t stop. I climbed out, landing on unsteady feet, and took off toward the street, heart hammering.

I barely thought as I walked—no, ran—to the nearest pharmacy.

The cashier barely looked at me when I grabbed a pregnancy test and placed it on the counter. I paid in cash, shoved the test into my bag, and hurried home, sneaking back in the same way I left.

Once I was inside, I locked the window, then rushed to the bathroom.

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely tear the box open.

I took the test, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as I set it on the counter.

Then I waited.

Seconds felt like hours.

I told myself I wanted it to be negative.

Because if it was positive, it meant I was carrying another one of Ruben’s children. It meant I would have another baby to protect. Another life to worry about.

Another reason to stay up at night wondering if I could keep them safe.

But... if it was positive...

Natalie had been telling the truth.

And if she was telling the truth about this, then maybe—just maybe—she really could help me.

The thought was terrifying.

But it was also the first shred of hope I had felt in years.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, gripping the sink as I stared at the test, waiting for the answer that would change everything.

And as I waited, my mind drifted back.

To when I was seventeen.

To when my nightmare had only just begun.

********

Four and a Half Years Ago

"Come on, Melody! Just this once, please!" I clasped my hands together, shaking them dramatically as I begged my twin sister.

Melody chewed her lower lip, clearly torn. "Easter, you know Dad would kill us if he ever found out."

"He won’t find out," I whispered, stepping closer, my voice filled with excitement. "Think about it! We’re seniors, Mel. We’ve never been to a single high school party. Don’t you want to experience it—just once?"

Melody hesitated, her fingers twisting the hem of her oversized church blouse. She was the good twin—the obedient one. I was the troublemaker, always pushing the boundaries our father set. But tonight, I didn’t want to be alone in my rebellion. I wanted my sister by my side.

"Please," I whispered. "For me."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Okay."

A victorious grin spread across my face. "Yes! Okay, go change. We’ll sneak out after Mom and Dad go to bed."

An hour later, we slipped out through the back door. I could still hear the music pounding against the walls, feel the vibrations beneath my feet, the scent of alcohol and sweat thick in the air. The party was wild—flashing lights, bodies moving, laughter spilling from every corner.

I had never felt so alive.

"Come on, Mel, loosen up!" I shouted over the music, tugging my twin sister forward. She hesitated, biting her lip, her fingers clutching the hem of her too-modest dress. We didn’t have anything else to wear. Our parents were strict when it came to our clothes, especially our father.

"Easter, I don’t know about this," Melody whispered, glancing around like a deer caught in headlights.

I rolled my eyes. "Mel, we’re finally out of that house. No rules, no lectures. Just fun. Live a little, will you?"

She clutched my arm with her trembling hands. "Seriously Easter, Dad would kill us if he found out."

"You’ve been repeating that like a broken record; he won’t find out," I said with a smirk. "Come on, just one drink?"

Melody sighed, her eyes flickering with uncertainty. I knew her. I knew that deep down, she wanted this too—wanted to escape the suffocating life our father had forced on us. She just needed a little push.

"Fine," she murmured. "Just one."

I grinned, throwing my arm around her. "That’s my girl!"

For the first time that night, Melody smiled.

I should have held onto that moment.

But I didn’t.

That night, I felt free. Free from my father’s rules. Free from the suffocating expectations of my family. I laughed, I danced, I drank the fruity punch some guy handed me, and for a moment, I forgot everything.

And that was my biggest mistake.

Because when I finally turned to check on Melody—she was gone.

Panic struck me like lightning. I spun in circles, scanning the crowd. "Melody?" My voice was swallowed by the music. My heart pounded.

She was just here. She was just right beside me.

Where was she?

I pushed through the bodies, calling her name over and over again, my hands shoving past sweaty strangers, my eyes searching, desperate.

And then I found her.

In one of the upstairs rooms, sprawled on the bed like a broken doll, her dress rumpled, her hair disheveled, her lips parted in a whisper of a breath.

My stomach dropped.

"Mel?" My voice cracked as I rushed forward, shaking her gently. Her eyes fluttered open—dazed, unfocused.

Tears burned my eyes as I took in the bruises forming on her skin, the way she flinched at my touch.

Oh, God. No. No, no, no.

"Easter..." Her voice was hoarse, barely audible. Then her body trembled, and a single tear slipped down her cheek.

I couldn’t breathe.

"Who did this?" My voice was raw, my hands balled into fists. "Mel, tell me who did this!"

But she just shook her head.

And then—her eyes hardened. Her fingers curled into the bedsheet, and she whispered words that shattered me completely.

"This is your fault," she choked out, her voice laced with so much pain it sliced through me like a knife.

"Mel—"

"You left me." Her body shook as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "You were supposed to be with me, Easter. You promised. But you left me."

Guilt consumed me, a fire burning me from the inside out. "I—Mel, I swear I didn’t mean to—"

"Don’t." She cut me off, her voice hard despite her broken state. "Just... don’t."

I bit my lip, fighting the sobs threatening to choke me. "Let’s go home," I whispered, reaching for her again. This time, she didn’t pull away.

I helped her clean up that night, brushing out her tangled hair, wiping away the remnants of someone else’s cruelty. I wanted to tell her I was sorry, that I would do anything to undo what had happened but I knew nothing would help, our bond was shattered.

Instead, she just made me promise.

"Never tell anyone," she whispered as we lay side by side, our pinkies linked in a silent pact. "Not even when we’re old and gray. This dies with us."

I promised.

And for a while, it seemed like it really had.

Until a month later.

Until the video arrived.

One message. One anonymous text.

A video of an unconscious girl being violated. Melody’s face wasn’t fully visible, but we knew. We knew.

And so did our father.

Pastor Isaac James had stormed into our shared bedroom, his phone clutched in his trembling hands. "Which one of you?" His voice had been like thunder. "Which one of you disgraced this family?"

We didn’t answer.

He pulled off his belt. "Answer me!"

Before I could speak, Melody stepped forward. Her voice was eerily calm when she said, "It was Easter."

The world tilted beneath my feet.

I turned to her, my mouth falling open, but no words came. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

She wouldn’t—she couldn’t—

But she did.

And my father believed her without question.

I didn’t fight back. I couldn’t. Because in some twisted way, I felt like I deserved it.

I had abandoned her that night.

I stayed silent when my mother turned her back on me, when Melody avoided my eyes.

My father simply nodded. "So, you want to live in sin? Then you will live as a wife. "

And just like that, my life ended.

The next day, my father, mother and Melody came into our room; my father was the one who spoke, "A man from the church has agreed to take you as his bride. Pack your things." Nothing else was said after that.

I was married off to a widower twice my age, a man who looked at me like I was filth. He didn’t just remind me of the scandal every day—he made me pay for it.

My father had blocked every form of contact between Melody and me for fear that I would corrupt her with my wayward ways. I had nothing left of her except a worn-out pink wallet she had given me years ago, with our childhood picture tucked inside.

Every night, I clutched it to my chest and prayed she was safe.

That she was happy.

That she was free from the burdens of that night.

Every night, I wished I could go back and change everything.

*********

A sharp knock on the bathroom door jolted me back to reality.

Rose’s sleepy voice drifted through. "Mommy?"

I wiped my tears hastily, taking a deep breath before answering. "Go back to sleep, baby. I’ll be out in a minute."

She was silent for a second. Then, she replied, "Okay."

My fingers trembled as I stared at the pregnancy test lying on the counter, the two red lines glaring back at me like an undeniable truth. My stomach twisted, but I couldn’t tell if it was from the nausea of reality sinking in or the bruises Ruben had left on me.

Pregnant.

I was pregnant.

A hollow laugh bubbled up from my throat, one so dry and bitter it felt like sandpaper scraping against my insides. Of course, this would happen. Of course, my life would find yet another way to trap me, to remind me that there was no escape.

My knees buckled, and I sank onto the cold tile floor, pressing my forehead against the edge of the sink. My chest ached—not just from the pain in my ribs, but from something much deeper. Something raw.

I thought I had no more tears left in me. I was wrong.

A choked sob clawed its way out of my throat, I had one option now.

Natalie.

She had told me to meet her. She had told me she could help.

I didn’t know if I believed her.

But I knew one thing for sure.

I refused to let another child of mine to be raised in this nightmare.

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