"I said the food is cold!" Vijay's voice echoed through the large dining room.
I startled, my hands trembling as I reached for the plate. "I'm sorry. I'll warm it…"
His hand struck my cheek before I could finish. The slap was hard, burning against my skin. I stumbled, grabbing the table for support.
From the living room, his mother and sister sat watching. Whispering. But they said nothing. They never did.
Vijay pushed his chair back with a loud screech. "You're a useless wife," he spat. "All I ask for is a hot meal after work, and you can't even do that?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I… I was finishing the laundry…"
His fist slammed against the table. "Excuses! That's all you ever have."
I barely had time to react before his fist connected with my side. Pain exploded through me, knocking the air from my lungs. I gasped, gripping the edge of the table.
Then came the knock on the door.
Everything went still.
Vijay's mother threw him a sharp look. "Calm down," she muttered.
Vijay ran a hand through his hair, taking deep breaths before striding to the door. When he opened it, Raymond stood there.
Raymond was our next-door neighbour. Quiet, polite, observant. Unlike the other neighbours, he never ignored the sounds coming from our home. And tonight was no different.
"I heard something," Raymond said, his voice cautious. "Is everything okay?"
Before Vijay could answer, his mother stepped forward. She gave a small, practiced smile. "It's a family matter," she said smoothly. "You should go."
Raymond's gaze flashed past her, landing on me. I didn't lift my head. I didn't want him to see the fresh bruise forming on my face.
He hesitated. Then, with a tight nod, he said, "Alright."
Vijay shut the door and turned back to me, his lips curling in rage.
"You just made things worse for yourself."
And then, the real punishment began.
***
I lay on the cold kitchen floor, my body aching. My ribs throbbed where Vijay had kicked me. My lip was bleeding. My arms, my legs, everything hurt.
The TV played softly in the living room. His mother and sister were still there. They had watched everything. And now, they were watching their show like nothing happened.
I swallowed hard. I needed to move.
Slowly, I pushed myself up, wincing. My fingers touched my cheek, it was swollen. My lip stung. I grabbed a dish towel and pressed it against my mouth.
Footsteps.
I tensed. Was he coming back?
No. It was his mother. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
"Get up," she said, her voice cold.
I stood, even though my legs were shaking.
She looked me up and down, then scoffed. "You should be grateful. He married you when he could have had someone better. Someone of our kind."
My hands clenched the dish towel.
She leaned in. "Learn to be a good wife. Next time, don't provoke him."
Then she turned and walked away.
I stood there, shaking. Next time?
Of course. There will always be a next time.
I didn't know how long I stood there, gripping the dish towel, staring at the kitchen wall. My body hurt, my mind was numb, but I had to keep moving.
I limped to the sink, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water on my face. The sting from my busted lip made me flinch. I pressed the towel harder against it, taking deep breaths.
I just needed to survive the night.
A soft knock at the back door made me freeze.
For a second, I thought I imagined it. Then, it came again. Soft. Careful.
I turned slowly, my heart pounding.
"Ivy?"
Raymond.
I hesitated, then limped to the door and unlocked it.
He stood there in the dim light, his hands shoved into his pockets, eyes scanning my face. His jaw tightened. He had seen the bruise, the swelling. He knew.
"Are you okay?" His voice was quiet, but firm.
I nodded quickly. "I'm fine." My voice cracked on the last word.
He didn't believe me. I could see it in his eyes.
He exhaled sharply, glancing toward the house. "I heard everything."
I swallowed. "You shouldn't be here."
"I had to check." His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach for me but stopped himself. "You don't deserve this."
Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
Raymond's voice dropped even lower. "Ivy… if you ever need help, just say the word."
A lump formed in my throat. I couldn't say anything, so I just nodded.
A door creaked inside the house.
Raymond straightened. "I should go."
He hesitated, one last glance at my bruised face, then stepped back and disappeared into the night.
I locked the door, leaned against it, and closed my eyes.
For the first time in a long time, someone cared.
But caring wouldn't change anything.
I was still trapped.
I turned to leave the kitchen…and froze.
Vijay stood in the doorway. Watching me.
His eyes were cold. His fists were tight.
"You were talking to him, weren't you?" His voice was low, sharp.
My stomach twisted. "No, I…"
SMACK!
The slap sent me sideways. My cheek burned as I grabbed the counter to keep from falling.
Vijay stepped closer, grabbed my arm hard. His breath was hot on my face.
"I don't like liars, Ivy."
He pushed me back, and I hit the table, gasping.
"What business do you have with him?"
My heart p
ounded. I had to say something to calm him down.
But then, he reached for his belt.
I knew what was coming.
And this time… I might not survive