(Featured by wattpad)Highest ranking #4 in spiritual.
Sold for nothing
Sisi finds herself stuck in an abusive marriage to a man whose purpose is to break her down. Fifteen years of abuse and five miscarriages later, it almost seems like her life cou...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Remi stretched both arms above his head, wincing at the pain that rewarded his movements. There was no way on earth he would make it to work today, not with his cramping muscles; he thought, frowning. He had had the worst evening of his life—sitting upright all evening with Sisi in his arms. She had clung to him like her life depended on it, making it impossible for him to readjust his sitting position. When she finally released him at dawn and fell asleep, he staggered to his feet and made his way to the living room, where he now lay on the couch writhing in pain.
He thought of Sisi, confused by her behavior last evening. What was it that scared her enough to keep her awake all night, clinging to a complete stranger? Perhaps he must ask her about it. He knew it would likely be a sensitive topic for her, but if he was to find a solution to her nightmares, he deserved to know the cause of them.
A sound interrupted his thoughts, causing him to raise his head in time to watch Sisi enter the living room. Their eyes locked for the briefest second before she looked away.
He raised a brow, slightly annoyed. The least she could do was thank him for his sacrifice the evening before. But no, Sisi was a stubborn woman, and the more time he spent with her, the more he hated her damn pride.
"Good morning to you too," he hissed and made to rise, unwilling to endure her presence. But pain rewarded his action, blurring his vision as he fell back painfully against the couch.
"Remi!" Sisi cried.
"I am fine," he winced, "just cramps. I stood up too fast." When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find her kneeling by his side, her warm breath tickling his face. Sad brown eyes stared back at him, concern further dimming them. His gaze trailed a thin scar, barely visible, from her left ear, past her agape dark lips, down to her jaw.
She was beautiful—he swallowed; even more so now that she was kneeling so close to him.
Unconsciously, he reached out to touch her face, but she pulled away, rising to her feet.
Embarrassed, he cleared his throat. "I'm fine."
"Good." She fiddled with her shirt—his shirt she borrowed the night before. "I was wondering why you're not dressed for work; it's almost seven."
"I thought that was obvious," he said, rising to a sitting position. "I didn't sleep last night. I'm cramping all over."
"Oh..." She cleared her throat. "That explains it. Does that mean you will not work today?"
He stared at her in disbelief. "Do I look like I can make it to work, Sisi?" he roared. This woman brought out the worst in him. Every time he thought he was done with his anger, she dug it up again.
"How should I know?" She became defensive. "Don't use that tone on me. I'm not your child. Suit yourself and do whatever you want!" She turned from him.
He gaped at her in unbelief of her ingratitude, considering what he went through—what he was still going through—because of her! And in that second, he decided it was the last time he would ever sacrifice for Sisi. The next time she suffered a nightmare, she could gorge out her eyes for all he cared. He was done caring about her!
..........
Fighting the urge to cry, Sisi slammed the door shut behind her. On top of her humiliation the evening before, when she shamelessly needed to cling to a stranger to fall asleep, she had been forced to endure Remi's condescending gaze this morning.
He loathed her, and she couldn't blame him for it because she was indeed pathetic. She was pathetic and weak and stupid! And like Remi, she hated herself for it. She hated her fear. She was so afraid of Chief, even in his absence, the fear of his presence tormented her, depriving her of sleep.
Leaning heavily against the door, she closed her eyes and heaved a shaky breath. She needed to pull herself together, and to begin, she would start by cleaning up her messy room and taking a warm shower.
Straightening, she gathered the sheets and pillows from the floor. Once she had rearranged the modest bed, she entered the adjoining bathroom and took a bath. The warm water was soothing, loosening her tense muscles. When she stepped out of the shower thirty minutes later, she felt refreshed.
She re-entered the room, realizing then that she had nothing to wear. Her only piece of clothing on the chair next to the dresser was the maxi dress she had worn the evening she arrived. It was the same dress she had been wearing when Chief attacked her that evening; beating her to an inch of her life.
Even now, she saw the rage in his eyes as he entered her room. He said nothing as he crossed the room to her. She felt the blows, and mentally, she told herself she deserved it. If she hadn't thrown his mistress out of the house... if she had stayed away from his rage...
Picking up the dress, she smelled it. The smell of blood assaulted her nostrils, forcing her to discard it once more. But it wasn't just the blood that made her step away from it, it was the memories attached to the fabric; the abuse, the pain, the nightmares.
Left with no choice, she thought of resorting to Remi's clothes from the day before, but they were dirty.
Frustrated, she propped herself on the bed and sat there, confused. A few minutes passed, and deciding to swallow her pride, she made her way to the door and pulled it open.
"Remi?" she called. When he didn't respond, she stepped into the hall. "Remi!" she called once more, louder this time. Securing her towel around her chest, she made her way to the living room to find him sleeping on the couch.
She frowned, unwilling to disturb his rest. Yet, she knew she didn't have a choice. She crossed over to where he lay and touched his arm.
"Remi."
"Hm?" he murmured, turning to the side. His eyelids fluttered open, his fatigued gaze resting briefly on her face, before creeping down her neck.
His gaze settled on her shoulders, where her scars were left exposed by the towel.
Releasing him, she stepped back and folded her arms. "I need some clothes. I know you can obviously tell how embarrassing it is for me to ask, but I'm desperate."
He watched her for several seconds, his frown deepening. "Yes, of course." He nodded. "I can't go up the stairs right now, but please, feel free to dig in my closet for something. I'll hopefully feel better by tomorrow; we could go shopping then. My room is the first door by the left when you get upstairs," he said, dismissing her with a wave.
"Um... Thank you."
She hurriedly turned from him to the stairs, finding his room as he had described. She pushed the door open to find someone lying on the bed. A smile settled on her face when she realized it was Jesse.
Slowly, and unwilling to disturb the child, she crossed the room to the matching wooden closet and began rummaging through the pile of masculine clothes.
