Chapter 20

No, no, no, what am I thinking? He's my husband—how could he possibly be that pervert? I must have been traumatized by the abuse to the point where I'm seeing threats everywhere, suspecting every man of being that monster. My mother-in-law glared at me, grinding her teeth, but in the end, out of respect for Ethan, she didn’t actually hit me again. I helped Ethan lie back down on the bed. "Are you okay? Does it hurt? Are you dizzy? Can your body handle this?" I asked him anxiously. He seemed to have exhausted all his strength earlier, breathing weakly in shallow gasps. He smiled at me, as if to reassure me—I'm fine, don't worry. The flicker of hope I’d felt earlier faded. His condition hadn’t improved after all. I stayed by his side until he fell asleep, then returned to my room. Mary came in with a glass of milk. "Young Madam, your milk." Perhaps it was a tradition in wealthy households—every night, Mary would bring a glass of milk to each person’s room. Without much thought, I drank i