Chapter 2 The Will to Survive

The clock on the wall ticked louder than my own thoughts. Midnight. Another sleepless night.

The air felt heavy, and stagnant, like it had absorbed the weight of my pain over the years.

I sat motionless in the corner of the living room, knees drawn to my chest, my heart pounding in uneven beats. Even here, even now, I couldn't feel safe.

Upstairs, the house was quiet, but it wasn't peaceful, it was an eerie calm after a storm.

My children were asleep, or at least I prayed they were. I prayed Lorien wasn't awake, hearing the echoes of tonight's fight playing on a loop in his mind.

I prayed Azra wasn't curled into a ball, trembling under her blanket, flinching at imagined shadows. She always has a nightmare. Almost every night.

Kael was up there too, in our bedroom. Or was it still our bedroom? Lately, it felt more like a battlefield, a place where his words cut deeper than his hands ever did.

Where his fists cut sharper than a knife.

He'd slammed the door hours ago, after pushing me out of the bedroom and leaving me to piece together what was left of myself in the dark.

My fingers traced the edge of the photo frame on the table.

It was a picture from our wedding day, me in a lace gown, him in a crisp black suit. My smile looked genuine.

His arm draped around my shoulders as if he could protect me from the world.

How ironic that the very man who vowed to keep me safe had become the reason I feared for my life.

The man who was supposed to be for me is the one against me.

The glass of the frame was cracked. A single jagged line split my face in two. I didn't even remember how it broke.

Was it last week, when he threw the remote across the room in a fit of rage?

Or the week before, when he shoved me against the wall for questioning where he'd been?

The days blurred together now. Pain had a way of erasing time.

I shifted my gaze to the stairs. They loomed like a bridge between two worlds, the fragile innocence of my children's dreams and the nightmare I endured every day.

I wanted to run to them, hold them tight, and promise them that I'd find a way out. Take them out of here and give them a better life in a peaceful environment.

But what kind of mother makes promises she isn't sure she can keep?

A creak on the floorboards upstairs froze me.

My body tensed, instinct taking over. Was he coming down? My eyes darted to the front door. I hadn't locked it yet. I always left it unlocked at night, just in case. Just in case I needed to run.

But the creak didn't come again. Only silence.

I let out a shaky breath and leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

"God," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "How did I get here? How did I become this woman?"

I thought about the day I met Kael. His charm had been like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

He had this way of making me feel seen like I was the only person in the room.

And when he proposed, I said yes without hesitation.

Back then, I believed love could conquer anything. I didn't know love could also be a weapon.

The first time he hurt me, it was with words. I still remember how they stung, sharp, precise, and designed to cut.

He apologized afterward, of course. He always apologized.

Even now that he felt he could no longer apologize for hurting me over and over, I always forgave him.

Because that's what love is, right? Forgiveness.

But love didn't explain the bruise on my wrist from the night he grabbed me too hard.

It didn't explain the fear in Lorien's eyes when he saw Kael yell at me, or the way Azra clung to my leg every time Kael raised his voice.

Love didn't explain why I felt safer in my car, parked on the side of the road, than I did in my own home.

Another creak upstairs. My chest tightened again. I waited, listening, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring.

Nothing.

I stood, my legs shaky beneath me, and walked to the mirror hanging on the wall. The reflection that stared back was almost unrecognizable.

My cheekbone was swollen, the skin tinged with an ugly shade of purple from tonight's episode of his unending assault.

A cut on my lip stung every time I moved my mouth.

But it was my eyes that unsettled me the most. They were hollow, and lifeless, like a dying ember in a pile of ash.

I reached up, touching the bruise with the tips of my fingers. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.

"I can't do this anymore," I whispered to myself. The words felt foreign like they belonged to someone else. Someone stronger.

The sound of soft footsteps behind me made me spin around. My heart leaped into my throat. But it wasn't Kael.

Lorien stood at the bottom of the stairs, clutching his blanket, his small face etched with worry. "Mommy," he said in a trembling voice. "Are you okay?"

I blinked back tears and forced a smile. "I'm fine, baby. Go back to bed."

He didn't move. His big brown eyes, so much like mine, scanned my face. I saw the question he didn't dare ask: Why don't you just leave?

"Lorien," I said, my voice firmer now. "Go to bed."

He hesitated, then nodded. But as he turned to climb the stairs, he said something that stopped me cold.

"Daddy said you can't leave us," he whispered as he stood in front of me. "Is that true?"

My breath caught. I didn't know how to answer him. The truth was, I didn't know if I could leave. Not because I didn't want to, but because I was terrified.

Terrified of what Kael might do if I tried. Terrified of what the world would say. Terrified of losing my children.

"Lorien, listen to me," I said, kneeling so I was at eye level with him. "I will never leave you and Azra. Do you understand? Never."

He nodded again, but his eyes were filled with questions he couldn't bring himself to ask maybe for fear of what his father might do to him.

He turned and disappeared up the stairs, leaving me alone in the silence once more.

I sank to the floor, my head in my hands. The weight of his words pressed down on me like a boulder. Kael had won. Even when he wasn't in the room, he had control over me.

But as I sat there, something shifted. It wasn't hope, hope felt too far away. It was more like defiance. A small, flickering ember that refused to die.

Upstairs, Kael stirred, his footsteps heavy as he moved across the bedroom.

My heart raced, but I didn't freeze this time.

Instead, I stood and walked to the front door. I locked it, not to keep him out, but to keep myself in.

Tonight, I wouldn't run. Tonight, I would plan.

I would plan how to survive with my two children without a job and Kael's help.

I would plan how to raise the money to get a place to run to with my children even though Kael made sure I didn't get any allowance.

I would plan how to leave to live to at least experience what peace of mind is even if I had to die at Kael's hand at last.

Yes, I would plan.

Because tomorrow, I would choose.