My Husband defends my molester

The mention of Julian and Lesley together, coupled with the terrifc reality of my situation, snapped something inside me. The fear was instantly replaced by a volcanic eruption of sheer, blinding fury.

This wasn't just about a broken marriage; it was about survival, about my very dignty being crushed.

I didn't scream. I didn't beg. The tremor in my body ceased, replaced by a terrifying, cold calm. He loosened his grip, confident in his victory. That fraction of a second was my salvation.

My hand shot out, not to strike his face, but to seize the fruit knife lying on the floor beside the couch.

Adrenaline-fueled, I swung the small blade, a desperate, clumsy movement. Deccan gasped, his expression melting into vicious shock as the knife nicked his cheek. A thin line of blood immediately beaded and trickled down.

"You bitch!" he roared, stumbling back and freeing my hair.

Scrambling backward, I pushed myself off the couch, clutching the knife like a talisman.

"Stay away from me, Deccan," I spat, my voice low and steady."Julian may have sold me, but I am not bought. You will not touch me."

He watched the blood on his fingers, his eyes narrowing to slits of murderous intent. He was formidable, half-dressed, a terrifying blend of raw power and bruised ego. He took a slow, menacing step. "You actually think that tiny thing can stop me?"

"I won’t stop you from hurting me," I countered, locking my gaze on his. "But if you come one step closer, I swear on my mother’s grave, I will cut something off you, and you will spend the rest of your life regretting it."

The sheer, venomous intensity of my threat gave him pause. He was used to cowering victims, not defiant executioners.

“You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, his tone shifting back to a forced calm, though the fury simmered beneath.

“Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing,” I countered, taking a ragged breath.

It was a desperate bluff, but it seemed to work. He didn't charge. He simply stood there, breathing heavily, his wounded ego warring with the potential pain of another strike.

I grabbed the oportunity and ran away. Reckless and exhausted, I reached the road outside the villa only to be blinded by headlights

I watched in terror as a black SUV followed me with the speed I couldn't imagine and the next second my back was hit and I was thrown away.

I felt like all the bones in my body were crushed and perhaps this was it. However, what hurt me the most– The black SUV that hit me belonged to Julian, the very same car he went with Lesley.

***

I stayed two whole weeks in the hospital, paralyzed and under coma. Never once did Julian call me or tried to inquire about me. Not even pretending to hide his intend.

When I opened my eyes in a government hospital, I was told to be left by some passersbys.

My trembling fingers found my phone on the bedside table. I powered it on, the sudden bright screen a cruel assault on my eyes.

The notifications flooded in, but one name dominated the screen: Lesley.

A cold knot formed in my stomach as I opened the messaging app. They weren't apologies, nor were they inquiries. They were a digital trail of my husband's betrayal, sent with deliberate, venomous intent.

[Hey! Guess where we are? The Art Gallery downtown! Julian said you always wanted to come here on your birthday, but we just couldn't wait.]

Attached was a picture: Julian, looking happier and more relaxed than he had in years, his arm casually draped over Lesley's shoulders. They were standing in front of a modern abstract piece, a sardonic backdrop to their vulgar reality.

[Just had the most amazing lobster bisque at that fancy new French place Julian loves. He said you took him there once, ever since that day he wanted to take me there to enjoy the food!]

A picture of two champagne flutes clinking, Julian's hand recognizable by the silver watch I had bought him, now raised in a toast to the woman he had sold me for.

[Morning, sleeping beauty! Julian is making me breakfast in bed. Pancakes and fresh coffee. He's such a domestic god! You know, he never did these things for you. So sad!]

A disgusting, overly bright picture of a breakfast tray resting on white satin sheets. Julian's hand was visible, pouring syrup, wearing the wedding ring I had put on his finger.

I wanted to throw the phone across the room, but my hand was frozen, compelled to scroll. Lesley's messages were a steady stream of calculated cruelty, designed not just to inform me, but to dismantle my self-worth piece by piece.

But, I was desperately looking for some news about my brother. I did not know how he was.

Seeing no texts or calls from the police station or Julian, I quickly got up from my bed.

Doctors told me my body was weak and they could not discharge me yet. But, I insisted.

Once I signed all the necessary documents and came out of the hospital, I rushed to see my brother in the police station.

"Your brother's breathing was unstable. We had to shift him to the hospital two weeks ago."

My whole body began to shake. With trembling hands, I saved the location of the hospital my brother was admitted to and rushed to meet him.

Lesley’s vile taunts and Julian’s final, crushing betrayal had been momentarily blurred by a single, terrifying truth: my brother was in a hospital.

Not the luxurious private clinics Julian frequented, but a state-run hospital. Just like the one I had just abandoned.

I clutched the address the officer had given me, a crumpled piece of paper that felt like a lifeline. I hailed the first available cab, barking out the location, the urgency in my voice startling the driver.

The drive was a blur of traffic and anxiety. Breathing unstable. The words spun in my mind. Deccan had promised to make him pay for interrupting their sick game.

Had Liam been beaten? Was he... molested? My failure to protect him weighed on me, a monstrous counterpoint to the rage I felt for my husband.

Liam was the only family I had left, the only person who had stood between me and that vile man.

When the cab pulled up to the second hospital, I paid the driver and practically fell out onto the pavement.

My legs stumbled as I watched my brother lying on general ward, abandoned and uncared.

"Liam..." I rushed to his side. He barely managed to open his eyes to see me once before he closed them again, relieved.

He had been so weak that he had lost the ability of even speaking. My hands clenched into fists.

Julian had promised me that they would leave my brother alone once I go to Lesley's place with him. But, it seems like they hadn't fulfilled their promise.

They left him starve for days and when his condition worsened, they had not even shifted him to a proper hospital. My blood boiled in my nerves watching how my brother was abandoned like some orphan.

In rage, I grabbed my phone to call Julian. But, before I could dial his number, a random message from an unknown number beeped in my phone that made the air freeze in my lungs.

It wasn't a text, but a video.

My private intimate videos with Julian!

Another message came, then another. All same.

My private video got leaked and people were forwarding it, making it viral everywhere!