chapter five
2038 Words
CHAPTER FOUR
A sharp crack split the air.
SMACK!
Naomi’s head snapped to the side. A burning sensation spread across her cheek.
Before she could react—
SMACK!
Another blow landed, harder than the first.
She stared at him in shock, her lips parting as a trembling hand touched the sting blooming on her face.
"Drake… you slapped me again?"
Her voice wavered, barely a whisper.
His expression was cold. Unmoved. "I had to. You caused it. That’s not my fault."
Tears welled in her eyes before spilling over, silent and endless.
His gaze darkened. "Why are you crying?"
"I… I want a divorce," she choked out, her breath catching in her throat.
Drake's eyes flashed with something unreadable before narrowing. "Do you want to get slapped again?"
Naomi flinched.
"You know what?" He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "I’m staying home today. You’re not going anywhere."
She looked at him in disbelief—angry, hurt, but mostly defeated.
How much longer would she endure this? How much longer before she lost herself entirely?
She turned to leave, but a cold grip locked around her wrist.
"You don’t leave unless I say so. Understand?"
A whimper escaped her lips, and she nodded, too afraid to resist.
"Drake, please… let’s talk."
He raised an eyebrow. "About?"
"Am I doing something wrong? Is there something you don’t like? I love you, and I want to make things work."
Drake scoffed. "It’s not like I want to hit you, Naomi. But you do stupid things that force my hand. If you’d just behave, I wouldn’t have to do this."
The manipulation cut deep.
She inhaled sharply. "Tell me… why do you love her?"
A smirk curled on his lips. "Because you were the easier prey." His tone was venomous, laced with cruelty. "Not every girl is as cheap as you."
Her heart cracked into splinters.
"I don’t love you. I never will. Get that into your thick skull."
Naomi nodded, swallowing the sob clawing up her throat.
Drake leaned back, his gaze flickering over her. His nose wrinkled. "You look ugly and fat in that dress. Take it off. Put on makeup, maybe then I’ll consider looking at you."
Her hands clenched at her sides as she stared at her reflection.
Was she really that unattractive?
She forced a smile. "Okay… Thank you, Drake. I’ll take note."
---
The next morning, she did exactly as he said.
She wore a dress that concealed more of her body, applied makeup to hide the bruises, and nervously approached his room.
"Drake… how do I look?"
He barely glanced at her. "Okay."
Her chest tightened with something unfamiliar—happiness.
It was the first time in two years he had acknowledged her appearance.
That single word fueled her. She dressed like that every day, desperate for another sliver of approval.
But then—
"Drake… why don’t you ever touch me?" she whispered one night.
His laugh was sharp. "Because I’m not attracted to you."
Her heart dropped.
"Have you seen your body? You look like I don’t feed you. Look at other wives—they're useful to their husbands. You’re the only exception."
Naomi’s breath hitched, her self-worth crumbling.
But she swallowed it all, smiling as if his words hadn’t just shattered her.
Then, the worst betrayal happened.
---
That evening, Drake leaned against the doorframe. "Your family is visiting today. Dress decently. Be nice."
Naomi froze. "My… my family?"
"They’ll be here in an hour."
Her heart raced. She hadn’t seen them in so long. Would they notice how broken she had become?
The knock came quicker than expected.
"Naomi!" A voice rang out as her younger sister, Tracie, rushed into her arms.
For the first time in ages, warmth flooded Naomi’s chest.
But her parents?
They didn’t move an inch.
"Two years and no kids?" her mother remarked, lips pressed in disapproval.
Naomi opened her mouth, but Drake cut in smoothly, smiling.
"I don’t want to stress my wife’s body. When she’s ready, we’ll have a child."
Naomi swallowed bile. Liar.
Her sister beamed. "I’ll stay with you tonight!"
Naomi’s breath hitched. She snuck a glance at Drake. His jaw twitched, his eyes darkening, but he said nothing.
Relief flooded her.
At least for tonight, she wouldn’t be alone.
---
That night, Naomi walked to Tracie’s room, excitement bubbling inside her.
"Tracie, wake up—"
The words died in her throat.
She froze.
Her husband—Drake—was hovering over her sister.
Her breath strangled in her chest.
"Get away from her!" Naomi screamed, shoving him with every ounce of strength she had.
Drake barely stumbled.
He turned to her, his lips curling into a wicked smirk.
"Your issue?"
A cold shiver ran down Naomi’s spine as she stood frozen in the dimly lit bedroom, watching Drake push himself up from the marbled floor,sweat trickling down his forehead. He swayed slightly, his hand gripping his temple, his hazy eyes flickering between confusion and rage.
"How dare you?" Naomi’s voice cracked with fury, her fingers tightening into fists. Without thinking, she lunged forward, her palm striking his face with all the strength she could muster.
SMACK!
The sound of the slap echoed through the room, but she didn’t stop.
SMACK!
Again, her hand connected with his cheek, this time harder, fueled by years of bottled-up pain, resentment, and disgust. Her body trembled with adrenaline, her breaths coming out in ragged gasps.
Drake barely reacted. He simply stood there, his expression a mixture of annoyance and amusement, as if she were a child throwing a tantrum.
"Naomi, what the hell—"
"How dare you?" she screamed this time, shoving him backward. "How dare you try to r**e my sister?"
Drake stumbled, blinking slowly as if trying to process her words. His drunken state made his movements sluggish, but his lips curled into a twisted smirk.
"r**e?" He laughed, shaking his head. "Come on, don't be so dramatic. She wanted it."
Naomi felt something inside her snap.
"She was asleep, you bastard!" she roared, her voice raw. "She woke up to find you on top of her!"
Drake rolled his eyes, rubbing the spot where she had slapped him. "You're exaggerating. Your sister is more beautiful than you—hell, she’s got everything you lack. Maybe if you had a body like hers, I wouldn’t have had to look elsewhere."
Naomi's fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. The room seemed to spin with rage, her vision blurring with unshed tears.
Her sister. Tracie.
Tracie, who had always been her lifeline in a family that barely acknowledged her existence. The one person who loved her unconditionally. The only person who made her feel seen.
And Drake had tried to take that from her.
She turned sharply, grabbing Tracie’s trembling hand. "We're leaving," she said firmly.
Drake scoffed. "Oh, don't be ridiculous. Where the hell do you think you're going at this hour?"
"As far away from you as possible."
Drake stepped forward, but Naomi positioned herself between him and her sister, shielding Tracie with her body.
"You are not touching her again," Naomi hissed.
Drake studied her for a moment, his head tilting. Then, his lips twisted into a cruel grin.
"You think you can leave? Fine. Take your useless sister and go. But don't come crying back when you realize you have nothing without me."
Naomi ignored him. She grabbed Tracie’s wrist and stormed toward the door. Her heart pounded as she yanked it open, dragging her sister into the dark hallway.
Tracie sniffled beside her. "Naomi, I—"
"Don't," Naomi whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Let's just get out of here."
The front door felt miles away, but Naomi forced herself to move faster. Each step away from that nightmare felt like breaking free from chains she hadn’t even realized were shackled to her.
When they reached the front porch, Naomi fumbled for her phone, her shaking fingers barely able to navigate the screen. She called for an Uber, her heart hammering in her chest as she glanced over her shoulder.
Drake hadn't followed them.
Good.
The car arrived in record time, and Naomi all but shoved her sister inside.
"You're coming with me, right?" Tracie asked, panic lacing her voice.
Naomi hesitated, her hands gripping the edge of the open car door.
No.
She couldn’t. Not yet.
Tracie was safe now, but Naomi had unfinished business.
She forced a smile, cupping her sister’s face. "I'll meet you soon, okay? Just go to Aunt Melissa's house. She’ll take care of you."
Tracie's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. "Promise me you'll be okay."
"I promise."
The moment the car drove away, Naomi took a deep breath, steeling herself.
And then she turned back toward the house.
---
The Final Straw
Naomi stepped back inside, her heart thudding in her ears. She half-expected Drake to be passed out on the floor where she had left him.
But he wasn’t.
He was sitting on the couch, his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling with glassy eyes. Blood had dried on his forehead, his shirt wrinkled, his posture lazy and indifferent.
As if nothing had happened.
As if he hadn’t just tried to assault her sister.
As if he hadn’t spent years breaking her, piece by piece.
Naomi clenched her fists.
"Drake," she said, her voice deceptively calm.
He turned his head lazily toward her. "You’re back?"
"I want a divorce."
His expression didn’t change. "Oh? That again?"
She stood her ground. "I'm serious. I want out."
Drake sighed, rubbing his temple as if she were an annoying inconvenience. "Naomi, don't start this. You're not going anywhere."
"You don’t get to decide that anymore."
His lips curled into a sneer. "You think you can make it without me?"
Naomi took a slow step forward. "I'd rather have nothing than stay here and be treated like nothing."
Drake chuckled darkly. "You want to leave?" He stood up, staggering slightly. "Fine. But not before I remind you why you belong to me."
Naomi’s stomach twisted as he advanced toward her, his eyes dark and predatory.
No.
Not this time.
She darted backward, her mind racing. She needed to get out before he—
Drake lunged.
His hands clamped around her wrists, yanking her forward. Naomi gasped, struggling against his grip.
"Let me go!" she cried, thrashing wildly.
Drake’s grip tightened. "You think you can just walk away?" he growled. "I’ve spent two years putting up with you. You owe me, Naomi."
Her blood ran cold.
She had spent two years enduring his cruelty. Two years being told she wasn’t good enough. Two years trying to be the wife he wanted, only to be met with disdain.
And he still thought he owned her?
The rage boiled over.
Naomi lifted her knee and slammed it into his groin.
Drake let out a strangled sound, his grip loosening just enough. She didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the nearest object—a porcelain vase—and brought it crashing down against his head.
The impact sent him sprawling onto the floor, blood seeping into the carpet.
Naomi stood there, panting, her chest rising and falling with adrenaline.
For a split second, a wave of panic threatened to consume her. Had she killed him?
No.
His chest still rose and fell. He was alive.
But she couldn’t wait for him to wake up.
She turned on her heel and ran.
---
Freedom
Naomi didn’t stop running.
She didn’t pack a bag. She didn’t take her jewelry, her clothes, or even her wedding ring.
She left everything behind.
As she stepped out into the cold night air, something inside her shifted.
For the first time in years, she felt light.
Free.
She reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and yanked out the SIM card, tossing it into the bushes.
Drake would never find her.
She would never go back.
Naomi took one last look at the house she had once called home.
Then, without hesitation, she turned her back on it—on him—and walked away.
"And that is how I Naomi Carter ran away from my toxic marriage"
- Writer
