Page 70 of My Dark Divine
I’m officially a part of Zayden’s business, and he drags me along with him—not because he trusts me with his work, but because I’m merely a showpiece, a doll dressed in pretty clothes and adorned with shiny diamonds around my neck. My father keeps reminding me to listen closely. He emphasizes howcrucial it is to remember every detail from the meetings. I don’t know why he insists on this—he never bothers to enlighten me about the specifics—but I do it anyway.
However, with each passing day, my memory seems to worsen, as if my brain is playing tricks on me, setting obstacles in my path, just waiting for me to trip and fall. Nobody believes me when I tell them I forget things—not my mom, nor my dad. Zayden is the only one who lets it slide, no matter how much it annoys him. I can see the reaction in his body, the flash of irritation in his eyes when I admit I’ve forgotten something again, but he never yells at me.
Not like my parents do.
“I don’t feel well today,” I say quietly, pressing my hand against my lower stomach. “Can I stay in bed, please?”
Zayden pauses in his task of adjusting his tie, our eyes meeting in the mirror’s reflection. “You know the answer to that, Venetia,” he grumbles. “Today is important.”
“Like every single day,” I mumble under my breath, bowing my head.
“What did you say?”
A shudder races through my body as a wave of dread washes over me, cold and suffocating. A sharp pain pierces my lower stomach, prompting me to squeeze my eyes shut in an attempt to ease it, my grip tightening on my skin. “Sorry,” I rasp. “I just... I feel nauseous, and my head is a little dizzy.”
He raises his hands in exasperation, a shrug rippling through his shoulders. “Then go take some pills or whatever’s in the med kit in the bathroom.” He clicks his tongue in irritation, yanking at the tie that hangs half-tied around his neck. “Why am I explaining this to you? You should know this by now.”
I rise from the bed, and despite the burning discomfort, close the distance between us, my hands moving to help him with his tie. “I feel like it’s a different kind of issue, Zayden,” Imumble, embarrassed to admit this. “There’s pain in my lower stomach, and it’s making me dizzy and nauseous.”
He frowns in confusion, and a moment passes before skepticism twists his expression. “You can’t be pregnant. We—” He pauses, clearly caught off guard. “I use protection all the time. And as far as I remember, you were on the pill, right?”
“Yeah, but—” I trail off, adding the finishing touches to his tie. “I’m taking too many meds. I don’t think that’s good for me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I doubt you want to get pregnant,” he cuts in, annoyance dripping from his words. “Is that all? Because we’re already late.”
“Zayden, there are bruises on my skin,” I blurt out, tired of swallowing my worries. They’ve built up inside me into a hot, coiling ball of emotion. I can’t stay silent anymore. His friends are coming over more frequently now, and everything becomes a blur for me in those moments. A blur I can’t seem to shake off.
“And?” he asks, tilting his head. He genuinely doesn’t seem to understand what I’m hinting at, or maybe he’s pretending not to. “You kick in your sleep a lot, baby. Maybe you’ve just hit yourself.”
“I always feel so sore,” I continue, a tremor running through my lip as I feel myself unraveling. My breathing quickens, and my emotions start to take over. It’s frustrating that after all this time, I still can’t control them. They overpower me to the point that I can’t finish my thoughts. More often than not, I’m so consumed by emotion that I forget what I am going to say.
That’s why no one believes me.
“Are you accusing me of something, Venetia?” Zayden asks, his hands moving to my shoulders and giving me a slight squeeze. “Are you implying that I or my friends did something to you?”
I never said that. He’s getting defensive again, and I feel ashamed for bringing it up, but I can’t remain silent any longer. I want him to understand, to help me.
But he doesn’t.
“No, no, I just?—”
“You don’t trust me?” he snaps, his grip on my shoulders tightening, and a cold wave of dread crashes over me. My stomach knots painfully, and a lump in my throat cuts off my air. “How many times do I have to repeat that you’re safe with me?”
That’s the thing—he doesn’t need to keep saying it. One action would suffice. It would prove his words, and I wouldn’t feel so paranoid all the time.
But he just… says a lot without doing anything.
“Let me go, Zayden,” I plead, my hands gripping his arms as I struggle to free myself. “You’re scaring me.”
“I’m scaring you?” Laughing, he squeezes harder, and a sharp pain shoots through me, causing tears to blur my vision. “Well, if you want to see me as a big, scary monster, maybe I should act the part?”
In the blink of an eye, he whirls me around and forces me into the wall. The thud of my back hitting it sends a ripple of tingles over my skin. My mouth opens in a soundless scream, black spots flickering at the edges of my vision, and a soft ringing fills the air around me.
The sound of him storming out echoes through the room as he slams the door, leaving me to face my demons alone once again. I wait for him to come back, to offer his usual apology, but he doesn’t return.
Not after five minutes. Not after an hour.
“Now,I want you to be honest with me, Venetia,” the doctor says, removing his glasses and locking eyes with me. “Do you take any drugs?”
