Chapter 534: Are You Just Married?

Elvis rolled over, lazily leaning against the bed’s stiff headboard. He bent on one knee, took a cigarette from the pack, placed it between his thin lips, and lit it. After smoking, he frowned, took a deep breath, and raised his head slightly, exhaling a plume of smoke. The smoke veiled his handsome face, now slick with sweat. Tiny beads of perspiration traced his strong muscles; his wet bangs obscured his red, weary eyes. He took a few more puffs, and as the intense feeling in his bones subsided, he regained his composure, turning to look at the woman beside him.

Olive lay on her side, her back to him. Her milky skin was marked, a testament to his recent actions. Elvis stopped smoking, his gaze dropping to the blood on her thigh. He hadn't noticed before, but the sight of her bruises confirmed the extent of his violence. He leaned toward her. “Why…?” he began, but before he could finish, Olive shifted closer to the bed, rolling away from him. She shrugged, her body radiating resistance and distance. “Isn’t it enough?”

Elvis froze, unable to approach. He stood, retrieved his pajamas from the floor, quickly dressed, and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed harshly. Olive didn’t understand his outburst. She lacked the energy to ponder it; her small face was pale, drained of color. Excruciating pain tore through her body. She curled up, barely daring to move, each movement leaving her breathless, slick with cold sweat.

She didn't know when she fell asleep, only waking to a persistent “bang bang” on the door. Early morning sunlight streamed through the curtains. Lil’ Nathan was knocking. Aunty Layla’s voice soothed him: “Little master, Miss Hart has been with you for days. She’s tired and hasn’t woken yet. Let’s go downstairs to play. When she wakes up, she’ll go to kindergarten with you.” The sound of footsteps faded. Lil’ Nathan had obediently gone downstairs. His obedience warmed Olive’s heart; she felt revived, rising to shower.

It was 11:45. The pain persisted. She suspected a tear. Although she knew how to stitch herself, a hospital visit was necessary. The memory of the heartbreaking pain from giving birth to triplets three years ago—the lateral incision—was still vivid. Last night’s assault only intensified her desire to escape his predatory possessiveness.

After showering, she saw Aunty Layla entering to clean the room. The aunt's pale face flushed; the room’s disarray and crumpled sheets spoke volumes. “Aunty Layla, I’ll do it,” Olive said, stepping forward. Aunty Layla smiled, “Miss Hart, don’t be ashamed. But…the blood on the sheets…the boss was too aggressive. He hurt you.”

Olive’s shyness prevented her from discussing Elvis. She remained silent, quickly leaving the room. Elvis was gone, likely at the company. She sent Nathan to school, then went to the hospital. A female doctor stitched Olive’s wound. “Your married life sounds stressful. Your husband’s a beast! Ten stitches,” the doctor declared. Olive blushed, lying, “We’ve been apart a long time. This…is the first time in a while. He’s not usually like that…”

The doctor nodded understandingly. “So, newlyweds? You need to take it easy. No sex for two days. Tell your husband to restrain himself.” Olive’s eyelashes trembled. Two days without Elvis’s advances? Impossible. His anger would prevent her from seeing Lil’ Nathan, whose crucial speech therapy couldn't be interrupted.

Olive spent the day with Nathan at kindergarten, then took him outside after school. A Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly pulled to the curb; Elvis had arrived to collect Nathan. He remained in the car, observing Olive through the glass. She wore a demure outfit—a floral silk shirt with a bow, and a black lace dress reaching her ankles—concealing the marks he had inflicted. Surrounded by children, she smiled gently. The breeze played with the hem of her long skirt, creating an ethereal aura. Elvis’s gaze never wavered. Even after all these years, her beauty moved him. She was undeniably the most captivating sight in the after-school rush.

Several fathers passed by, their excited chatter audible. “The new teacher. So pretty,” one commented. “My daughter calls her ‘Miss Fairy.’ Even prettier today!” another exclaimed. They discussed her gentle voice and considered approaching her.