My Pain Had a Plot Twist

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift.

A black metal wristband.

Cold. Sleek.

He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system.

The other user was Violet.

His "girl bro."

The person he was closer to than his own sister.

Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough."

Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist.

So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle.

When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered.

I threw up blood.

While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain.

Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared.

"Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding."

To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place.

Their friends couldn't wait to watch.

Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her.

Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead.

Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

"Do you like it, Clara? Our third anniversary gift."

Kent Fenton's voice brushed my ear. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and snapped a cold metal wristband onto my wrist.

Click.

It locked.

"What is this?" I asked. The cold metal sent a chill through me.

"A surprise." Kent kissed my cheek. "My company's latest tech—a pain-sync system. I've already linked it to Violet's device."

My heart dropped.

Violet Burke.

Her name was a thorn in my marriage I could never pull out.

"Kent, what do you mean?"

"Clara, you're too coddled. You cry over the smallest scrape." He sighed like he couldn't help it. "Violet's different. She's strong, full of energy. I want you to feel some of her vitality. Learn from her."

Learn from her?

Learn how to flirt with someone else's husband and call it friendship?

Learn how one call at three in the morning can make him leave my side?

Learn how to stroll into our house in a tiny outfit and grin. "Clara, don't mind me. Kent and I go way back. No need to be so formal."

Yeah. Right.

I tried to take off the wristband, but it was seamless. No clasp. No switch.

"Don't bother. Only I can unlock it." Kent pressed a hand over mine. "Trust me. This is good for you."

A sharp pain suddenly tore through my left arm.

Once. Twice. Three times.

Hot and brutal, like countless burning needles stabbing into my skin and twisting.

"Ah!" I cried out, doubling over.

Kent caught me, frowning. "What's wrong?"

"It hurts... my arm..." Cold sweat broke across my forehead as the pain shot through my nerves and into my brain.

His phone rang.

A video call from Violet.

Kent answered. Violet's bright, dramatic face filled the screen.

She was stretched out in a tattoo studio chair, her back and left arm completely exposed. A tattoo artist worked on her arm.

"Kent! Look at this design. Isn't it cool?" She eagerly showed off the fresh outline. "Oh, Clara's there too? Clara, let me tell you, tattoos don't hurt at all. It feels amazing. You should try it sometime!"

She smiled innocently, every word a challenge.

On the screen, the tattoo needle pierced her skin.

Off the screen, pain ripped through my body.

I convulsed and nearly bit through my tongue.

I finally understood what this "gift" was really for.

It wasn't a gift.

It was a torture device.

Kent looked at me writhing in pain, then at the cheerful Violet on the screen.

A hint of satisfaction flashed through his eyes.

"Clara, look. Violet didn't even flinch. Be stronger."

"Kent... you scum." I forced the words through gritted teeth.

He ended the call, scooped me up, and tossed me onto the bed.

Then he looked down at me, his eyes cold.

"Violet's getting a full-back phoenix. It'll take more than ten hours. Lie here and learn what real strength looks like."

The door shut behind him.

The pain never stopped.

It swallowed me whole, endless and inescapable.

I stared at the ceiling as my consciousness drifted in and out.

Sometime later, Kent's phone rang again.

He put the call on speaker.

"Kent, I heard there's a new wingsuit challenge. I signed up! I'm going tomorrow!"

A trace of hesitation slipped into Kent's voice.

"That's dangerous..."

"Relax. I'll be fine! I'm the queen of extremes! What about Clara? She's so weak. She'll be okay, right?"

Kent fell silent for a moment.

His gaze landed on me, drenched in sweat on the bed.

"She'll be fine. She can handle it."

He hung up, then leaned over me.

"Did you hear that? Violet's going wingsuit flying tomorrow. Get some rest. Save your strength."