I Trusted Him, But He Only Used Me

When it was time for the new teacher representative to speak,

Christy stepped forward, holding the microphone, her gaze sharp and piercing as it landed on me like the tip of a blade.

“Today,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “my speech is about self-respect and self-love. And now, I’d like to share a short promotional video.”

The moment her words fell, my scream tore through the campus.

On the three-story-high LED screen—just recently donated by Sean to the girls' school—the video began to play.

It was that video - the one that should never have seen the light of day.

My naked body lay on a mottled bed, writhing under the lash of three long whips.

Welts and bite marks littered my skin.

Blood seeped into the once-pristine white sheets, turning them into a sickening shade of red.

Pain surged again, not from my body—but from my soul, as if a thousand insects crawled beneath my skin, gnawing away.

Before I could even react, a harsh slap struck my cheek.

A mother beside me pointed at my face, shrieking, “How dare a woman like you step foot in a girls' school? You shameless whore! It’s revolting!”

Another hand yanked my hair, dragging me from my seat and throwing me to the ground.

Voices thundered above me, raining down curses like stones.

“Your father gave up the government job he fought so hard to get for you—because of this filth! Your mother died holding his ashes! And you? You still have the audacity to live? You should’ve been buried with them!”

“You slut! A disgrace to this entire town! You deserved every second of that torture!”

I curled up, numb, as fists and feet landed again and again.

Compared to the night of the video… this was nothing.

Then Christy stumbled forward, her voice trembling with false concern.

“Sheri, I… I’m sorry. I don’t know how this happened. Someone must’ve switched the video…”

She reached to shield me from the beating, muttering apology after apology.

But in her tear-glossed eyes, pride sparkled like glass shards.

She wasn’t sorry.

She was victorious.

As the daughter of the influential Thornton Family, no one would question her. No one would dare.

A commotion behind me—

Sean rushed through the crowd, panic written on his face as he pulled me into his arms.

“Sheri! Why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to wait at home? It’s okay now, I’m here…”

His performance was perfect.

If I hadn’t heard everything with my own ears,

I might’ve believed him again.

Might’ve melted into that familiar, deceiving embrace.

But the humiliation at school shattered me all over again.

My mind broke. I screamed at the sight of any man who came near. I thrashed, cried, cowered from invisible terrors.

Sean held me tightly, tears streaking his face, his voice raw with heartbreak.

But even his sorrow felt like a lie.

Eventually, I was sedated and carried away in an ambulance.

When I opened my eyes, everything was dark. The bitter smell of antiseptic stung my nose.

I realized I was still in the hospital, my wrists and ankles restrained tightly to the bed. Outside the ward, muffled voices floated in.

Sean’s voice.

“Christy, are you satisfied now that Sheri’s like this?”

Another voice, low and sweet—Christy.

“Of course. Jason dated her for eight years. I had to be sure there were no lingering feelings between them. If I hadn’t done this, who knows what might’ve happened?”

She sighed.

“It’s hard for you, too, having to live with a woman like her. I feel bad every time I think about it. But because of our families, we can’t be together in this life. In the next life, I’ll repay you—no matter what. Even if I have to be your horse or ox.”

Through the glass door, fogged with condensation, I watched them laugh and lean into each other.