Chapter 51

The small party lasted a few hours. We had lunch, and boy, was I happy to taste food other than hospital food! I think I ate the most that day—like a teenage boy with an insatiable appetite. Zach and Anna drank some wine and made jokes about the time they used to hang out, and Gabriel was the third wheel.

I didn’t talk much, but they filled the silence. I was tired when Gabriel kicked them out. He does that a lot these days, I realized. It wasn’t just Sam; anytime I felt drowsy, he didn’t hesitate to ask our company to leave. Zach and Anna didn’t mind his bluntness; they were used to it. They were his found family.

It was early evening when we went upstairs, and Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at me. “Where are you going?” he asked.

I blinked, confused. “To my room?”

He smiled. “You’re cute.”

I knew he was teasing, not complimenting, but my cheeks heated. Oh, I really was in trouble. “What?”

“I asked Luna to move some of your things to my room,” he replied nonchalantly. “Only some, because I didn’t have space for all of it. Once you’re feeling better, I can call my interior designer to help you make changes to the room to fit your wardrobe needs.”

I stared at him, flabbergasted. “What?” I sounded like a broken record.

“What?” he repeated. “You didn’t think I was going to let you live alone at the end of the hall, did you?” An eyebrow arched again, and his lips lifted into a smug smile. “Besides, we’re husband and wife. Don’t you think we should start acting like it?”

Had he forgotten the whole Lily thing that happened just before I left? It was two weeks ago, but the sting I’d been ignoring still felt fresh.

“Gabriel,” Reluctance must have been clear in my voice, because he sighed.

“Just come, please?”

I stared, sighed, and nodded. He led the way.

Once in his room, I saw it: the pastel pink throw from my room, a stark contrast to his modern furniture. His wardrobe, which had held business suits, was now filled with my shoes and bags (and I assumed, my clothes). The framed childhood picture of my parents and me, which had been on my nightstand, was also there.

“It isn’t much, but it’s yours,” Gabriel said carefully, watching me. “And if you don’t want to share the bed, I’ll happily take the couch.”

As if you’d fit on the couch, I wanted to tease, but I just shook my head. “Not necessary.”

“You’ll have all the privacy you need here.” His expression softened. “Just stay.”

Chapter 51 (Continued)

I didn’t want to do this, I didn’t want to talk about this; I just wanted to be delusional and believe the man I loved cared for me beyond a sense of responsibility. But I’d avoided this topic long enough, so I gulped and said, “Lily.”

He looked like he’d been expecting this. “Don’t waste your precious voice on her right now, hm?” He stepped forward, wrapping an arm around my back. “We’ll talk about it after you heal. I know I wronged you by not telling you the truth about her. I know I have a lot to make up for. But I meant what I said. You are my wife, Freckles. You…”

“A bath?”

A little smile escaped me. He mirrored it, placing a feather-light kiss on my forehead. “Now, you want me to run you a bath?”

I raised my eyebrows playfully. “You?”

“Yeah, I figured I better get used to it since I’ve self-appointed myself as your assistant these days,” he teased.

I laughed. He kept looking at me. Conscious of his gaze, I bit my lower lip. “What?”

“Nothing.” He really gave me no explanation, just moved to the bathroom. Moments later, I heard the water running. He really was serious about running me a bath.

I smiled, moving to my new wardrobe. Not knowing where my loungewear was, I settled on a bathrobe, figuring I’d ask Luna later. I could ask now, but I didn’t feel like talking. My throat felt tight, and my voice felt…tired—a feeling I didn’t know was possible.

When I stood in the bathroom before the long mirror, the clothes I was wearing pooled at my feet. I stared at myself in the mirror. There was a mark across my torso, spreading from under my left breast to the right and a little toward my back. It was stained purple, brown, and red.

It hurt. Even though there wasn’t physical pain because of the medication, touching it stung. This was the first time I’d seen the mark—and there were several. In the hospital, all my showers were sponge baths given by a nurse, and I’d been too dazed by painkillers to examine myself.

It was clear now. The belt wasn’t the only thing that left a mark. There were brown lines where ropes had been tied around my wrists and ankles (the ankle mark was more prominent). There were other bruises on my arms—ones I didn’t even remember getting. They all hurt to varying degrees.

I must have been staring at my bruises with undivided attention and pain, because I didn’t realize when the bathroom door opened. Gabriel hadn’t let me lock it in case I needed help. He said it would save him the trouble of breaking the door down. He was also paranoid; I hadn’t been left alone since I was found, not even for a minute. Someone was with me at all times. I think he thought I would break down, get scared, or have a panic attack.

I felt numb.

Chapter 31 (This chapter seems out of place. It should be integrated into the flow of the narrative or removed, depending on its intended purpose.)

Chapter 52

Days passed quickly. It was easy, considering my husband had essentially become my assistant. And then there was Luna, who acted like an overbearing mother. They customized my diet (more healthy food than I’d ever eaten!), there were plenty of warm baths, and doctor’s home visits—as much as I groaned about them.

Gabriel worked from home for two weeks, going to the office only once or twice when absolutely necessary. Even then, I wasn’t alone. Anna kept me company, and Luna gave hourly updates to Peter. Even his parents and grandparents visited, fully aware of what happened. Alice called every day, and Sam called every few days—despite Gabriel being next to me for every call, openly gloating about it.

It was almost embarrassing how they treated me like a child, but also sweet. I’d always taken care of everyone else, never being the one cared for.

My only complaint—and a big one—was that Gabriel refused to touch me. He did touch me, obviously, always keeping me within arm’s length, but he refused to kiss or make love to me. I was desperate, and it was frustrating. I slept curled up to him every night, and nobody knows how hard it was to not grab him and kiss him.

The bruises were healing, though they’d faded considerably. The silver lining in the past two weeks was that I could speak normally again. No screaming yet, but at least I didn’t have to whisper.

Today was the day things were supposed to return to normal. Although Gabriel preferred my new normal to be staying home and painting all day, that was a definite no. I’d go crazy. I loved painting, but it was a hobby; I needed work to stay sane.

We argued. Gabriel didn’t want me to work unless I was surrounded by four bodyguards (yes, I had bodyguards now, even though I hadn’t left the house in weeks), and I wanted to work no matter what. So we compromised: one bodyguard, and I’d work at his company, under his watchful eye. Not ideal, but anything else was off the table.

I had my own conditions, though. “I want to be on the payroll like everyone else,” I reminded him that morning while putting on my lipstick. Gabriel usually left for work earlier than his employees, but he was going in late today, it being my first day and all.

“Yes, Freckles.”

“And my name is Sofia Baker.”

This got his attention. He stopped going through his wardrobe of business suits. “No, your name is Sofia Whitlock.”

I gave him an obvious look. “I want to join your company as Sofia Baker. No special treatment just because I’m your wife.”

“You are my wife,” his eyes narrowed. “And your name and our wedding pictures were in every news article. Everyone knows you are Sofia Whitlock.”

“Viktor didn’t,” I reminded him.

He huffed. “As if.” He turned back to his suits, picking one out, making me wonder why he’d spent so long looking through them. They all looked pretty much the same to me.

“You know,” I set down my makeup, turning to him. “Viktor did mention he didn’t think you’d let me work under him, given your history.”

This is a significantly improved version. Remember to replace the asterisks (*) with the intended words. The Chapter 31 section needs further editing or removal to fit the narrative flow better.