The Wife Who Never Loved

And sure enough, Hunter, who had been absent for days, returned that very evening.

Kaylee, who hadn' t seen her father in days, immediately ran into his arms, leaving my hand cold and empty.

They played in the living room, their laughter echoing through the large, empty house. I retreated to the kitchen, pretending to help the housekeeper. There was nothing for me to do, really. I just stood there, occasionally washing a vegetable or handing over a bowl, mostly lost in thought.

The housekeeper sighed. "Mr. Walls really does care about you, you know," she said softly. "He calls every day to check in when he' s away."

She paused, then asked, "Why are you always so afraid of him, ma' am?"

The word "afraid" felt like it was branded onto my very bones.

I remembered my first attempt to escape after we were married. Hunter had made one phone call, and Alan, my college boyfriend, had lost his job.

My second attempt, he fired our long-time housekeeper, a kind woman who had worked for his family for ten years.

The third time, he sabotaged my brother' s wedding.

I had cried, begging him, "Why won' t you just let me go?"

He' d raised his wine glass, a cruel smile playing on his lips, savoring the fear in my eyes. "Everything you care about, Krystal, I care nothing for." He' d laughed. "You can never win against me."

I had learned my lesson. Each time I fought back, someone else suffered. Hunter knew my weaknesses, my attachments. He could always find a leverage point, something to push me back into the abyss.

Suddenly, Hunter was standing in the kitchen doorway, holding Kaylee in his arms. He looked at me, a lazy, calculating smirk on his face.

I quickly composed myself, forcing a tired smile.

"I wasn' t hiding," I said, my voice carefully neutral. "Just helping out." I extended my arms to Kaylee.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against my cheek. His voice, a low rumble, sent a shiver down my spine. "Are you jealous, Krystal?"

I couldn' t believe this was his first question after being gone for days, after our daughter had been so upset. I didn' t answer.

Later, after Kaylee was asleep, I watched Hunter emerge from the bathroom, humming a tune, clearly in a good mood.

"Hunter," I said, my voice steady. "You and Aubrie can be together. I won' t be jealous."

He stopped humming.

"Jealousy is reserved for people I actually love," I continued, my voice unwavering. "And you, Hunter, don' t deserve to be loved."

The tune died on his lips. His eyes, once bright, darkened. His large hand shot out, grabbing my arm, his face a mask of fury. He slammed me against the bed, his grip like iron.