Episode 8

...BELEN CLINT...

Working at the club became burdensome, my schedule changed, and now I had to stay later, something my boyfriend did not like at all.

He was always at the club and could feel his gaze on me with every step I took. If I responded to a client, he looked at me differently, I could sense his disdain for my interacting with anyone else, much like my own dislike for all these people.

Every time I got home, we argued about his jealousy, and I knew today would be no different.

"Miss, where is the men's restroom?" a young man asked me, somewhat embarrassed; it was evident he was in urgent need to find it.

"Go straight ahead and to the right, you'll see it," I directed with my hand.

"Thank you," he said and took off almost running, and I couldn't help but laugh. But when I saw my boyfriend, the smile faded from my face.

His mood grew increasingly volatile, stressing me out, making me feel insecure, and at times frightened.

The girls at work always told me that jealousy meant love. Their boyfriends were jealous of them, and they'd sigh with adoration, believing it signified their partners' love and concern for them. But there was a chasmic difference. Their boyfriends weren't constantly watching how they served clients, only to make a scene afterward.

I collected my earnings, received many tips, and finally left the place exhausted, my feet aching from the heels. No matter how long I'd been working, I couldn’t get used to them, and neither could the other girls. The heels were simply too high, and with steps and people pushing, walking without falling wasn't easy.

My boyfriend was waiting outside to take me home and he grabbed my hand roughly when he saw me. I looked at him fearfully, unsure of what to say when he was this irrational.

"You were whoring around with that guy, huh? Was he asking you how much you charge for a blowjob or did he want to screw you in the restroom?" I looked at him in disbelief, offended, hurting.

"What are you talking about? I was with you only, and you know I don't do that thing you mentioned," his gaze turned darker.

"If you love me as much as you say, you'll do it when we get home," he said, and I thought he was lying, but he wasn't. "Don't play the prude with me and save your crocodile tears. As a woman, you should do what I tell you if you love me that much. Or don't you?" he looked at me with what I perceived to be genuine evilness.

I wiped my tears and nodded.

When we got home, I took off my shoes, and he kissed me passionately.

"Let's see if you love me," he smiled. "Get on your knees and open your pretty mouth."

I looked at him, hoping he'd tell me it was a distasteful joke, a graceless game.

His foot tapped on the floor impatiently, and he took my shoulders with sustained pressure to make me bend over.

He had never made me do anything like this, and I didn't believe I would have to do this, or in this way, especially after an argument.

I did as he said, and he smirked lasciviously. He then opened his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers.

I found it hard to believe this situation could excite him.

What happened next, I did not enjoy. It was rough, and I felt like I was choking. Tears streamed down unbidden and I wanted to vomit. He didn't stop until he was finished and I ran to the bathroom to throw up, hearing his laughter.

When I returned to bed, he was already asleep, and I... I didn’t even know how to sleep. It had been a bad day, like the previous ones, but this one, in particular, he made sure it was unforgettable.

The worst part of all this was that he kept my money and I didn't know where. I also had no spare keys to the house, and to top it off, I had no family or place to go.

I cursed the moment I fell in love with him, when I agreed to live with him, when I met him. Any remnants of the chivalrous knight in shining armor had long vanished.

In the morning, I had slept very little. I got up earlier than usual and remained lost in my thoughts until I heard him stirring. My heart began to pound mercilessly, wanting to burst out of my chest.

I served him breakfast with shaky hands. I was afraid of his reaction today after such a terrible night.

"Good morning, my love," he greeted me with a smile and kissed me on the lips.

"Good... morning," I replied doubtfully, confused. Had he gone mad?

Had it not been for the fact that I hadn't been drinking and could vividly remember, I might think that what happened last night was a dream because now he was once again the sweet man I so deeply loved. He even hugged me.

"The breakfast is delicious. I was going to ask for something you like a lot but you surprised me, you're the best, my life," he told me while he ate with relish.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: This novel will contain some quite harsh scenes centered around a very real theme that many unfortunate people experience: abuse. This is a fictional story created in my imagination, but what’s more terrifying is knowing that these situations occur in real life and, worse... not everyone can escape them.

If you or someone you know is going through a situation of violence, there is always a way out—do not stay with someone who harms you, ask for help.

Are you ready for more chapters? Love you all 🥰

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