On our wedding night, my husband didn’t touch me. He claimed he was too exhausted and told me to give it some time. But every night, like clockwork, he slips quietly down to the basement. He returns needing a shower, with this strange smell lingering on him. When I asked what he was doing, he said he was working out. Working out in the middle of the night? Finally, one night, I couldn’t hold back and went down to the basement to see for myself. He caught me and, grabbing my nightgown, yelled furiously: “Get upstairs! You are NOT allowed in the basement! Otherwise, we’re getting divorced!” Content I gripped the railing, shaking with anger. My parents spent their life savings on this cottage to be our wedding home. This is my house! So why shouldn’t I be allowed in the basement? And as my husband, why does he have to speak to me so cruelly? Taking a deep breath to control my anger, I asked, “Evan Marshall, is this how you talk to me?” Evan still had a firm hold on my nightgown. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll explain in the bedroom.” “Can’t you just tell me here?” I pointed down at the pitch-black basement stairs. “Why can’t I go down? Don’t I have that right?” “I told you—I work out down there, and I’ve got some things that you can’t see yet.” Evan stepped down a few stairs, blocking my way. “Why?” I demanded. “Because it’s not the right time yet,” he replied. “When it’s time, I promise you’ll see.” My stomach churned with frustration. I took another deep breath to control my emotions. “And did you really have to say it in such an ugly way when you caught me?” “I was just worked up, okay? You know me—sharp tongue, soft heart.” I laughed bitterly and turned to go back upstairs. Sharp tongue, soft heart? Right. Fine then. Tomorrow, when he’s at work, I’ll have a look for myself. … Back in bed, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Something suspicious is definitely in that basement, and it’s got to be big. Was Evan hiding some kind of dark secret? I glanced over at him. He wasn’t asleep either, staring at the ceiling like he was lost in some secret worry. In the moonlight, his features looked sharp and handsome, his build even more rugged and alluring. Back when he was chasing me, I’d been flattered and didn’t dare believe it. He was so attractive, while I’m just… ordinary. Why did he like me? He said he liked my gentleness, my calm nature, something unique about me. And I’d believed him. But if that’s true, why hasn’t he wanted me at night? I’m his young bride, after all; we haven’t even finished our honeymoon yet. Is this normal? Unable to resist, I reached out and touched his face gently. “What are you doing?” he hissed, jerking away as if he’d been shocked, glaring at me with disgust. The look was the same one people give to stray dogs or beggars on the street. Anger filled me as I turned away. Why did he pursue me if he had no interest in me? Why stay with me? Suddenly, I turned back and glared at him. “You told me you’re sick, and that’s why we can’t be together for now. I accepted that. But why such a strong reaction when I touch you?” “I’ve told you a hundred times, it’s a psychological issue. I’m seeing a therapist for it. You just need to be patient.” Evan tapped my shoulder lightly with his phone instead of his hand. “Just give it six months, okay? After that, I promise I’ll love you right.” Too “dirty” to touch, but clean enough for marriage? Could I really believe him? For now, I had no choice but to wait. I sighed, frustrated, and turned away. Honestly, I’d given him everything since we started dating. He said he liked watches, so I got him one worth a fortune. He wanted to travel, so I went around the world with him. He wanted to invest, so I loaned him the money. Anything I had, he could ask for, and I’d give it freely. And now, just after our wedding, this is what I get in return. It’s that basement causing all this! I hate that basement. I’ll tear it apart if I have to, just to get to the bottom of it.
Morning came. Like usual, I made breakfast—the kind Evan likes. He ate in silence, keeping his usual indifferent expression. It felt as though I were his maid, not his wife. After breakfast, I drove him to work. We both worked in sales at Eden Fragrances. I parked, watched him disappear inside, and then told a coworker a few things before quickly leaving. Without my car, I caught a taxi straight back home. Once there, I rushed inside, heading straight for the basement. But when I got there, I was stunned. The door had been replaced! I had no idea when he’d done it, but now there was a steel security door with a keypad lock. Without the code, I couldn’t even get close. I took out my phone and snapped a picture of the door, thinking of finding out if these doors had any universal keys. “What do you think you’re doing?” Evan’s voice boomed from the top of the stairs. He’d actually followed me home! In three quick steps, he was at the bottom, his face dark with rage. He slapped me hard across the face. “How many times have I told you?!” “You hit me?” I put my phone away, glaring. He kept shouting, “How many times have I told you?!” I shouted back, “This is my house! Don’t I have the right to go down there? And if you changed the door, shouldn’t you have told me?” “You need to wait until I have time to tell you!” he barked, raising his hand as if to strike again. I leaned back, dodging his hand, and pulled out my phone. “I’m calling the police.” My cheek stung from the slap, my anger burning through me. Barely married and already he was hitting me? Where would this lead? Panic crossed Evan’s face as he grabbed my hand. “Why are you calling the cops?” “This is my house. Why can’t I go down to my own basement? Why did you hit me? Can’t I call the cops?” I stood firm, ready to dial. “Lily, calm down,” he said, his tone softening. “I… I just lost my temper.” “Oh, so that means you can hit your wife?” I pulled my hand free, saying, “Let go! I am calling the police!” Once again, he grabbed my hand. “Lily, it’s really not a big deal. If you feel we can’t get along, then maybe we should get a divorce.” Divorce? I took a step back, silent. Things were bad, but I didn’t think they were that bad. My parents had high hopes for our marriage; they’d want grandkids soon. And if we divorced, this cottage would be split in half, and my parents would lose out. I couldn’t let that happen. “If you want a divorce, then the house stays with me,” Evan said. “Otherwise, we keep things as they are. Now, go back to work.” After a long look, I turned and left. I couldn’t let him take away my parents’ hard-earned money. “Hey! Get back here!” I stopped and turned. “Don’t you think you owe me an apology after everything?” Tears welled up in my eyes, and I slammed my fist onto the railing, feeling the sting as my knuckles split. Blood ran down my hand. After a glare at him, I walked away. … “Lily, what’s wrong? You look awful,” my coworker Megan Blake asked when I got back to the office. “I’m fine,” I replied, sitting down and opening my laptop. I’d bandaged my hand but kept it hidden under the desk so she wouldn’t see. “Hey!” Megan slid into the chair next to me, giving my shoulder a nudge. “Your honeymoon must be wild. You look like you’re about to pass out!” I forced a smile. If only she knew what a mess things were. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she reminded me. “Company’s doing that family team-building event, so partners are supposed to come. If you don’t go, they’ll fine you.” I didn’t care about the outing, but I didn’t want the fine. Evan always loved these company outings and had never missed one before. “If Evan goes, then I’ll go,” I said. “I already asked him. He said he’s not going. Without him, you two lose the monthly bonus,” she added. “I’ll go talk to him.” I went over to his department. He was sitting with two male coworkers, laughing and gossiping about something. I overheard them talking about a hit-and-run accident outside Eden’s office a couple of months ago. Some woman had hit three employees and fled, and they still hadn’t found her. I walked up and asked quietly, “You’re not going to the company outing?” “No,” he replied, as cold as ever. “If you don’t go, we’ll be fined.” “Then let them fine us,” he shot back. “I just think we don’t need to—” “Could you stop nagging?” he suddenly shouted, loud enough for the entire office to hear. The room fell into an awkward silence, my face burning. Here he was, my new husband, yelling at me in front of everyone. What was there left to say? I just lowered my head and walked away. Any illusions I’d held about Evan vanished in that moment. “Lily, I’m sorry for pushing you earlier,” Megan said quietly when I got back to my desk, giving my shoulder a supportive squeeze. “It’s fine.” I suddenly remembered something, took out my phone, and sent her a photo. “Megan, you’re my go-to. Can you find out if there’s a universal key for this kind of keypad lock?” Megan checked the picture, nodded thoughtfully. “Sure thing. I know someone who sells these doors. I’ll ask around for you.”
It was evening again, and as I prepared dinner, I checked the home monitoring system on my phone. Still broken, just like that morning. Was Evan messing with it on purpose? I finished cooking and set the table. A few minutes later, Evan came home carrying a cake. He hid it quickly in the storage room, but I caught a glimpse—it was a fancy French mousse cake, artfully made. I froze for a moment. It wasn’t his birthday, and it wasn’t mine either. What was he up to? He didn’t say anything, and I didn’t ask. At dinner, we barely spoke. He ate as though he were a customer at a restaurant, and I was his waitress. Later, as I replaced the bandage on my hand, Evan broke the silence. “So, Lily, have you thought it over?” I looked up. “Thought what over?” “About the divorce. Have you made up your mind?” he asked, his tone casual, as if we were discussing dinner plans. I let out a cold laugh. Was his only goal with this marriage to get the cottage? “What do you want?” I challenged. “Do you actually want a divorce?” He didn’t answer. “If you’re not happy with me, feel free to ask for a divorce,” I said calmly. “I won’t stand in the way of your happiness.” He shot me a hard look and turned away. “Just go to sleep.” I pressed him again, “You told me to give you time. You said once you got better, things would be different. Isn’t that right?” “Can we just drop it?” he snapped, annoyed. “I’m exhausted. Go to sleep!” After changing my bandage, I turned off the light and lay down. There we were, side by side, but worlds apart. Living like this was torturous, but I had no choice but to endure it for now. Eventually, I fell asleep. It might have been instinct or some inner sense, but in the middle of the night, I woke up. Moonlight spilled into the room, faint but enough to see clearly. Evan wasn’t there. He must have gone to the basement to “work out” again. This time, I was determined to see what he was really doing. But as I shifted to get up, my wrist suddenly felt weighed down. I pulled, and a cold shock ran through me. I was handcuffed to the bedpost with a thick silver chain. I tugged hard, but it wouldn’t budge, and the strain made my wrist burn. Furious, I whispered, “This is too much!”
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