I returned to my rundown shack, gathered up the recyclables I had collected, and prepared to sell them before disappearing. But no matter how quickly I moved, I was still too late.
As I dragged the bag to the door, a cold, male voice cut through the air.
“Lindsey Thomson, where do you think you’re going?”
In the sweltering summer sun, a chill ran down my spine. Even after three years of not hearing it, I recognized that voice instantly.
My palms turned clammy, clutching the bag tightly as my heart pounded against my chest. The terror I had buried deep inside surged back, overwhelming me.
Footsteps echoed on the ground as he approached me, closer and closer.
Finally, unable to stand, I collapsed, curling up on the ground, my body trembling uncontrollably.
Carter Hall.
He still wasn’t willing to let me go.
……
For the past decade, I had loved Carter desperately. But he had hated me just as intensely.
Our engagement had been arranged by our grandfathers.
Unfortunately, he already had someone else in his heart and was completely against the marriage.
But I was oblivious to all of this.
As the only daughter of the Thomson family, I was spoiled beyond measure.
I tried to force him to accept my affections with sheer stubbornness.
That year, when the Hall family business ran into trouble, my father provided funding and forced Carter to marry me.
I was too naive.
I truly believed our marriage was meant to be, that if I was good to him, he would be good to me in return.
But I was wrong. No matter how I treated him, you can’t force someone to love. However, this was just the spark that ignited his hatred.
His loathing for me escalated on our wedding day.
His father committed suicide in our marital home, leaving behind a note blaming me for his death.
Our wedding turned into a funeral, and Carter seemed to become a different person overnight.
I tried to explain, to deny any involvement.
He just smiled and took my hand.
In front of others, he acted normally, treating me well.
But at home, he exploded with rage.
He would often grab me by the throat and say, “Lindsey Thomson, you deserve to rot in hell, atoning for your sins for the rest of your life.”
