Chapter 6 The night I almost died

Amelia's POV

The sound of glass crunching beneath Richard's shoes echoed in the room, but I stood firm. My resolve burned stronger than my fear.

"Enough," I repeated, louder this time. My voice wavered, but the fire in my chest refused to dim. "I'm done being treated like your prisoner!"

His eyes narrowed dangerously, and his lips curled into a cruel smirk. "Watch yourself, Amelia."

"No," I snapped, taking a step back but refusing to let the anger drain from my voice. "I'm not going to live like this anymore. You don't own me, Richard. You don't get to treat me like some-"

The crack of his palm against my cheek was deafening. The force of the slap knocked me sideways, my hand flying to my stinging skin. Before I could recover, another blow landed, this time a fist to my jaw. Pain exploded through my face, and I stumbled, my vision blurring.

"Stop!" I cried, begging but my voice was weak, barely audible.

"You don't speak to me like that!" he roared, his voice trembling with rage. His hands were no longer restrained. Blow after blow rained down on me-my ribs, my stomach, my arms.

I tried to shield myself, curling into a ball on the floor, but it was useless. His strength far outweighed mine, and his fury was unrelenting. I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, unlike anything I'd ever experienced, before my body went limp.

Darkness consumed me.

When I opened my eyes, the blinding white light of a hospital room flooded my vision. My body felt like it was on fire, every muscle aching, every breath sending a sharp pain through my chest.

I tried to move, but a searing pain in my stomach froze me in place. I groaned softly, my hand instinctively reaching for my abdomen.

"You're awake," a calm voice said, startling me.

I turned my head slowly, wincing at the movement, and saw a middle-aged doctor in a white coat standing at the foot of my bed. His face was calm but tinged with concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

"I..." My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I feel pain... in my stomach. What happened?"

The doctor hesitated, his eyes scanning me as if assessing how much I could handle. "You were brought here by your neighbor. They heard noises from your house and found you unconscious. It seems you suffered significant trauma to your abdomen."

My breath hitched as fragments of the night came rushing back-the shouting, the blows, the unbearable pain. Tears pricked my eyes.

"I'm... alive," I whispered, more to myself than him.

"Yes," the doctor said softly. Then his tone shifted, becoming more clinical. "You were lucky, Amelia. In more ways than one."

"Lucky?" I repeated, a bitter laugh escaping me. "I don't feel lucky."

The doctor took a seat beside my bed. "Amelia, I need to tell you something important. You're pregnant. A few weeks along."

The words hit me like a thunderclap, reverberating through my mind. Pregnant? I stared at him, my heart pounding as disbelief and confusion consumed me.

"What?" I croaked.

"You're carrying a baby," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "Given the extent of your injuries, it's a miracle the pregnancy wasn't lost. But you need to be very careful. Any further trauma, stress, or physical strain could be dangerous-for both you and the baby."

I couldn't breathe. Pregnant? The doctor's words felt surreal, like they were meant for someone else.

"No, that's... impossible," I stammered. "It can't be."

But even as I said it, pieces began to fall into place. I remembered missing my period last month, brushing it off as stress from my marriage. I remembered the single, bittersweet night Daniel and I had shared before he disappeared from my life forever.

Daniel.

Oh, God.

I felt the tears spill over, hot and relentless. This baby wasn't Richard's. It couldn't be. Richard and I had never consummated our marriage. I had spent weeks dodging his advances with excuse after excuse. Somehow, I'd managed to keep him at arm's length for a month, but now...

Now, I was carrying Daniel's child.

The doctor watched me carefully, concern etched into his features. "Amelia, I know this is a lot to process. But you need to focus on your recovery-for yourself and for the baby. Do you have someone you can call? A friend? Family?"

Family. The word made me flinch. My mother's icy voice echoed in my mind: "If you do anything stupid, don't think of coming back to my house."

I shook my head slowly. "No one," I whispered.

The doctor sighed, standing. "Well, we'll keep you here for a few days to monitor your condition. After that, we can discuss options for support."

Support. The word sounded foreign, almost laughable. Who would support me? Daniel had left me. My mother had abandoned me to this life. And Richard...

A shiver ran down my spine. What would Richard do if he found out about the baby?

No, I couldn't stay. I couldn't go back to that house.

But where would I go?

The door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, offering me a small smile as she checked the machines beside my bed. I stared out the window, my mind racing.

I was pregnant. With Daniel's child.

The weight of it crushed me, and yet, somewhere deep inside, a tiny flicker of hope sparked. This child was mine. My link to the love I'd once known, even if Daniel wasn't here. My chance to escape, to rebuild my life.

But first, I needed to survive.

And I couldn't let Richard know the truth.

The door to the hospital room opened again, and I stiffened, expecting to see Richard storming in, demanding answers. But it was the neighbor who had called for help-a kind older woman who had smiled at me once in passing. She stepped inside, her expression soft but worried.

"I hope I'm not intruding," she said hesitantly.

I managed a small shake of my head.

"I heard the noises," she began, her voice breaking slightly. "I couldn't just... do nothing."

Tears filled my eyes as gratitude swelled in my chest.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She nodded, sitting down beside me. "You're strong, Amelia. You can get through this. But you can't go back there or else that monster will kill you".

Her words struck a chord, and I knew she was right.

But the question loomed over me like a storm cloud: How would I escape Richard's control, protect my unborn child, and find a way to start over?

The answer eluded me, but one thing was clear-this wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.