My Eight Years Marriage Almost Killed Me

Just then, a girl tugged nervously at Everett’s sleeve.

“Everett, pouring water over ice will make it stick to skin like glue,” she said timidly. “If she moves even a little, her flesh will tear. She’s due any day now—something terrible could happen...”

His hand, mid-gesture, paused in the air.

He hesitated.

But before the moment could shift, a soft, pitiful voice came from behind him.

“Everett... let it go. My time in the ICU wasn’t as unbearable as you imagine...”

Maeve’s words instantly turned his hesitation to stone. His gaze darkened.

The hand he had paused slowly lowered as his voice turned cold again.

“Do exactly as I said.”

The young girl opened her mouth to protest again, but Everett waved her off.

“What she’s going through is nothing compared to what Maeve suffered. I already have an ambulance waiting outside—what could possibly go wrong?”

With that, she fell silent.

Now emboldened by Everett’s command, the men returned to the freezer—this time, carrying even more blocks of ice.

One of them grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me upright. They surrounded me with slabs of ice, building a wall around my body.

Then, a basin of icy water was dumped over my head.

The next second, my skin adhered to the ice like glue—bonded by freezing water. Each breath burned my throat. Each pore pulled tight with searing pain as the cold seeped into my bones.

I glanced at the clock.

I’d been trapped in the freezer for over five hours.

My limbs had turned dark purple from the cold.

To shield my unborn child, I tried to shift my body slightly—to find a posture where my stomach might retain some warmth.

But every tiny movement ripped more of my flesh from the ice.

The baby’s movements inside me had grown faint. Alarmingly faint.

I gritted my teeth, ignoring the raw pain as chunks of skin tore away. Slowly, I maneuvered my body to shield my belly as best I could.

Bright red blood began to smear across the crystal-clear ice.

By the time I managed to reposition myself, the once-clear ice around me was stained a ghastly crimson.

The laughter outside died.

Even the jeering men, who had earlier mocked me, fell silent at the sight.

Through the blur of blood and frost, I glared at Everett and screamed hoarsely, “Everett! If anything—anything—happens to this baby, then you, his biological father, are his murderers! I swear I’ll pray day and night to his spirit—so that you never know peace!”

His expression wavered.

The steel in his eyes faltered as he stepped closer, peering through the blood-fogged glass.

Then a shout rang out behind him.

“Everett! My dad just said—there’s a plane on the Richardson family’s private air route!”

Everett’s face drained of color. His expression twisted with panic and fury.

He pounded his fist against the glass, roaring at me. “Laura! What the hell is this?! You think you can scare me with your Richardson family name forever?!”

Before I could answer, Maeve rushed to his side, gently rubbing his back and shooting me a look that combined hurt with quiet blame.

“Laura, if you won’t admit your mistake, that's fine. But why must you torture Everett like this?” she said, tears glimmering in her eyes. “You know how much suffering he endured back when Mr. Richardson was alive. Now he’s gone, and the Richardson family’s wealth has long been sold off. What’s the point of staging this farce?”

Then she gently tugged Everett’s hand, her voice like a breeze as she added, “Let it go, Everett. Let her out. If something really happens to the baby, we’ll be the ones blamed. It’s not like she ever cared about us lowly nobodies anyway.”

Her words didn’t soothe him—they only fanned the flames.

His eyes lit with renewed rage. He spat out a curse, then snapped toward his men with a roar. “Turn the freezer down to negative 100 degrees! Do it—now! ”