Isaiah
“Isaiah, please!”
Zella.
My eyes snapped open to see my wife writhing against the sheets, her small fists clawing at the air like she was fighting something I couldn’t see. Her breath came in ragged gasps, broken sobs tearing out of her throat.
“No… please stop!” she choked, twisting against the bed. “Don’t touch me, don't touch me, you bastard!”
My stomach dropped. Horror sank deep in my gut as I realized what was happening.
I grabbed her wrists, to keep her from hurting herself, and cupped her face with my other hand.
“Ella. Ella, wake up,” I murmured, keeping my voice as low and calm as I could despite the fire roaring in my veins. “Princess, open those eyes, baby, look at me. It’s me. You’re safe.”
She didn’t hear me. She kept struggling, tears streaking down her cheek
