Forced To Marry My Husband, I Ended Up In Bed With His Cousin

STACY “Zaya is your daughter too, William!” I screeched despairingly, the back of my throat burning with sorrow and unshed tears. My hair was disheveled and a strap of my dress was falling off my shoulder. My face streaked with dried tears. I was in a state of panic, panic, fear and sorrow all at once. “I told you I don’t have money.” He said, anger tightening his voice as he readied himself for work, appearing impeccable and distinguished while his five year old daughter was battling brain cancer. The doctors said she had a chance but the treatment was expensive. Very expensive. But money wasn’t the problem. It never was in the Carter household. Being the only son and heir of Carter Corporation, William was doing more than well for himself. He could effortlessly afford this treatment for our daughter, but he didn’t want to. “William, you want our daughter to die?” Fresh tears welled to the surface of my eyes, falling onto my cheeks. My body was weak from the lack of food. For three days, I haven’t eaten anything proper. Who could think of food when their five year old baby was lying ill in the hospital? Zaya’s condition? Three days ago, the doctor had called that Zaya didn’t have much time left. The cancer was eating deep, and it was only a matter of time before it got too late. “What do you want me to do, Stacy?” He turned away from checking himself out in the mirror to glare at me, “I do not have the money.” “You do, William! You f*****g do!” I screamed, wailing beside him, “you bought that expensive watch last week and you know your daughter needed that money to get better! Why are you like this, William?! I know you don’t care about me, what about the daughter we had together? Don’t you care?!” “No, I don’t.” He replied calmly, his expression stoic and hard, “I wanted a son. An heir, but what did you give me? A daughter.” He said those last two words like he’d tasted something distasteful and decided he was disgusted by it. “What do I do with a daughter? She’ll grow up and be given out in marriage just as your father did you.” The insult behind his words hit me like an avalanche. Disappointment and sorrow clung tightly to my heart, squeezing tight. Memories from six years ago flashed through my mind, hitting me harder then his words. I was seventeen. Fresh out of high school and excited about college. I had even applied, was positive about getting in when my dad had forced me into marriage to repay the debt he owed the Carter family. My words didn’t count. My pleas didn’t matter. All my gambling, drunk addict of a father wanted was to ensure he ruined by life because he decided to be careless with money and his own company. Twenty years. That was the deal. Twenty years before the debt would be fully paid and I would get my freedom. However, I didn’t think I had anything to go back to, so I decided this was my life and to live it as I could, not minding the pain and suffering William and his family put me through each day. Well, that was done. I was in the present and I had a daughter who needed to live and grow to have the freedom to choose as her mother wasn’t allowed. “Whether it’s a son or a daughter, William, that child needs her parents, please. Let’s not abandon her. Please, the doctors say…” “I don’t f*****g care what th doctors say, Stacy. I don’t have money and that’s it. If you’re so hellbent on making sure she survives, then pay for her bills, you’re her mother too, aren’t you?” Tears fell as I met his hardened gaze, then it hit me. He truly, really didn’t care about his child simply because it wasn’t the gender he and his family wanted. “How can you be so cold, William? You know I don’t work. I don’t have a means of income.” I tried to keep my voice steady but it was hard. His laugh was cynical and mean, “it’s no one fault you’ve become what you are.” He adjusted his tie, studied his appearance and nodded his satisfaction. He turned away to get his briefcase, “I’m leaving for work.” He picked up the clothes he dumped on the bed earlier that morning and tossed it at me, specifically in my face, “wash those and gave them ironed before I return.” We had household staff, but William preferred I be his personal maid. I didn’t catch the clothes, I let them fall to the floor, pooling at my empty feet. He spared his clothes a glance, then my face, “pick those clothes and launder them. I’m off to work.” He carried his briefcase, preparing to leave. I stepped onto his path, clasping both hands together, ready to grovel, “p-please. She needs that surgery, William, please.” Just as I was about to go on my knees, he nudged me hard so I fell on my behind. It hurt but I didn’t feel it. I tried to stand and run after him, “please, William. Please, I beg you!” He shut the door in my face, his footsteps receding. I crumbled to the floor, remained there, bawling my eyes out as I thought of how to go about saving my daughter. My eyes caught one of the clothes that was on the floor, a hundred dollar bill spilled out from the pocket. I wiped my tears, and crawled forward to search for more. I saw more bills but it was still too small. In total I got four hundred and twenty dollars, a far cry from the amount the doctors had asked. My eyes strayed to his side of the closet. I got up and hurried towards it. He had warned me to never touch what was his, and I had obeyed, until now. Desperate times called for desperate measures. So for the first time in six years of being his wife, I disobeyed. I opened his closet and began to ransack, hoping to find more cash. Maybe even a safe. I slipped my hand into the inner pocket of a suit and what I felt made me freeze. I brought it out, condoms — three wrapped ones. A different kind of pain squeezed my chest. What were condoms doing in the pocket of my husband? I searched more pockets and saw receipts. With trembling hands and tear-filled eyes, I read through. Payments for hotels and exclusive getaways. So he had money to spend on hotels with a strange woman while his child laid sick in that hospital?! While I had once begged him to continue my education with promise to pay back once I landed a job? While I was home tending his and his insufferable family’s needs? God, this man was evil! He was hurting me. Abandoning our child. And he didn’t care one bit. I continued my search and came up with more receipts. Gifts He had bought for this mystery woman of his. Jewelries, designer shoes and bags. Things he’d never given to me. Places he’s never taken me. Another woman was enjoying all of it. My heart shattered, despair cloaked about me. I didn’t find any cash that would save my daughter’s life. I collapsed on the bed, thinking of my life, of Zaya, how her parents were disappointing her, how I was failing her. My phone rang. I reached across the bedside table, and panic settled heavy like ice in the pit of my stomach wh en I saw the caller ID. The hospital was calling.