His Favorite Mistake

Chapter Two

"You called me?" I stammered, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom, pulling the edges of my silk robe tightly across my chest.

Frederick was standing in the center of the dim sitting room, his back rigid, illuminated only by the cold blue glow of his phone screen. When he turned to face me, his expression wasn't just cold; it was dripping with a lethal, punishing disdain that made me feel like an intruder in my own home.

"Why did it take you so long to get here?" he snapped, his eyes raking over me with visible, bitter disgust.

"You know I was half dressed, and I needed to put up my dress or something," I started, my voice trembling under the sheer weight of his glare.

"For what reason?" Frederick cut me off, stepping closer, his voice dropping into a harsh, venomous hiss that made my blood run cold. "Do you realize how bad and unattractive you are? Look at you. You are an absolute eyesore."

"Frederick, please…" I reached out a shaking hand, desperate to pierce through his armor, to remind him of the warmth we used to share before the coldness consumed our marriage. "Look at me. Look at us. We used to talk for hours, we used to laugh, and you used to hold me without me having to beg for scraps of your time. What happened to us? What did I do wrong to deserve this endless punishment?"

He didn't soften. If anything, his gaze hardened into chips of dark ice, pulling back from my touch as if my skin were infected.

" You want to know what happened? "Frederick laughed, a dry, mocking sound that tore right through my chest. "You stopped trying. You let yourself go completely. You don't look decent anymore. You don't just look ugly; even your body stinks badly. Don't you shower? Or are you just naturally repulsive now?"

The words struck me with the force of a physical bludgeon. My breath vanished. It wasn't just a critique; it was an absolute execution of my dignity, delivered with a casual cruelty that proved he no longer saw me as a human being, let alone a wife who loved him.

"You're pathetic, Esther," he continued relentlessly, his eyes narrowing as he gestured toward the front door with a wave of utter dismissal. "You better take care of your body and behave like a married woman instead of whining like a neglected child. Now get out of my sight, and go sort yourself out."

"Sort myself out?" My voice cracked, a fiery surge of defensive fury breaking through my tears. "I spend every single day trying to anticipate your moods! I keep this house running, I wait for you until this night, and when I finally try to offer you my body as your wife, you treat me like trash! Why are you so determined to break me? Is it because you never loved me the way I loved you?"

"Loved you?" Frederick scoffed, his lip curling in pure mockery as he leaned down, his face inches from mine. "I married a wife, Esther, not a charity case. You think crying and throwing tantrums will make me desire you? You are disgusting. The mere thought of sleeping with you turns my stomach."

The cruelty of his words hung in the air like poison.

"Get out of here," he repeated, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "And don't come back out until you've scrubbed that stench off your skin."

I didn't scream. I couldn't. The sound died entirely in my throat. This wasn't the first time Frederick had systematically dismantled me piece by piece, turning humiliation into a weapon he wielded whenever he pleased. Month after month, I had absorbed his venom, pretending that endurance equaled love, letting him erode what was left of my soul while I stayed trapped in the cage of my own making.

Without a word, tears spilling silently down my cheeks, I turned around and retreated back into the bedroom. I locked the door behind me and collapsed against it, sliding down onto the cold floorboards. I sat there in the dark, shivering violently, hugging my knees to my chest as the full, suffocating weight of the rejection crushed every remaining trace of warmth from my body. The physical ache of unspent desire twisted into a sharp, bitter knot of self-loathing, a painful reminder of how eagerly I had offered myself to a man who looked at me with pure contempt.

Time blurred in the silence. Minutes bled into an hour as I sat huddled in the dark, letting the numbness wash over me, until a sharp, jarring sound suddenly sliced through the heavy quiet of the apartment.

Brrrring! Brrrring!

I jumped, my heart leaping violently into my throat. A phone ringing in this house at this hour was entirely unexpected, a sudden intrusion on my misery.

Realizing it wasn't the phone in the bedroom, I remembered I had left my mobile near the kitchen counter hours ago while rushing to prepare the evening meal before he arrived. Needing to stop the noise before it woke the entire house or worse, drew more of his wrath. I pushed myself up off the floor on trembling, weak legs.

I unlocked the bedroom door and stepped out into the quiet sitting room, heading toward the kitchen to silence the screen. But as I passed through the open living space, something felt deeply wrong. The heavy silence of the apartment felt vacant, devoid of any presence.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes scanning the room. Frederick’s jacket was gone from the hook. His car keys were missing from the counter. The front door was pulled shut, but the air was still.

He hadn't just told me to sort myself out; he had walked out and abandoned me here in the wreckage of another miserable night.

Panic seized my chest, hot and sharp, overriding the numbness. I abandoned the ringing phone, my feet carrying me toward the dark hallway as a cold terror gripped my spine.

"Frederick, where are you? Are you there?"