Slapped on Our Anniversary - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading Slapped on Our Anniversary, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of Slapped on Our Anniversary.
"I'll agree to anything—just say something to me, okay?"
Ethan's voice pulled me from the haze of sleep. For a long moment, I lay there, disoriented, convinced this had to be a dream.
But he was really here.
After everything—after the hatred, the disgust he had for me, for this place—why would he come looking for me? Why pretend to care now?
Was this just another trick? Lure me into treatment so he could keep torturing me?
A shudder ran through me, and I twisted out of his arms.
"I'm sorry. You own this house—I have no right to stay. I'll leave now."
The second I stood, his arms locked around me again, desperate.
"Rachel, don't—you're my wife. I'll give you anything, just—" His breath was ragged against my ear, his voice breaking. "I was wrong. Please... don't shut me out. Come to the hospital with me."
"No."
I pushed against him, but his grip only tightened. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, tasting blood—still, he wouldn't let go.
"Let me go!" My voice cracked, raw with fury. "Ethan Evans, I paid my debt to you. Isn't that enough? Or do I have to die owing you before you're satisfied?"
He went still.
Then, slowly, his arms loosened. His jaw clenched, like he was fighting to keep control. "When did I ever ask you to repay me? When did I demand a single thing from you?" His voice dropped, rough with emotion. "Rachel, I know I hurt you. I wanted to hurt you. But you don't get to act like the victim here."
"You left me first. I spent everything I had to buy this house for you—and what did you do? The second I had nothing left, you walked away for someone with more money. I searched for you for a year, only to find out—" His voice shattered. "Only to see you—"
He was crying now, the words dissolving into something incoherent.
"Rachel, we've both hurt each other. Let's just... forget the past." His fingers brushed my wrist, tentative. "I've arranged the best doctors. Please... come with me."
I listened in silence, staring at him, searching his face for answers.
"Ethan," I whispered, "you hate me. Now that I'm dying... shouldn't you be happy?"
For one fragile moment, I wanted—needed—to hear him say he still loved me. Not out of pity, not out of obligation. Just... because some part of him still remembered.
But his next words shattered even that.
"Rachel, I'm not like you. I can't just turn off caring because it's convenient." His voice was thick, bitter. "Even if I hate you... how could I stand by and watch you die?"
So it wasn't love.
Just guilt. Just the weight of life and death forcing his hand.
"Save your money for Olivia."
I turned away. "In what little time I have left... I don't want to see you again."
Ethan's voice pulled me from the haze of sleep. For a long moment, I lay there, disoriented, convinced this had to be a dream.
But he was really here.
After everything—after the hatred, the disgust he had for me, for this place—why would he come looking for me? Why pretend to care now?
Was this just another trick? Lure me into treatment so he could keep torturing me?
A shudder ran through me, and I twisted out of his arms.
"I'm sorry. You own this house—I have no right to stay. I'll leave now."
The second I stood, his arms locked around me again, desperate.
"Rachel, don't—you're my wife. I'll give you anything, just—" His breath was ragged against my ear, his voice breaking. "I was wrong. Please... don't shut me out. Come to the hospital with me."
"No."
I pushed against him, but his grip only tightened. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, tasting blood—still, he wouldn't let go.
"Let me go!" My voice cracked, raw with fury. "Ethan Evans, I paid my debt to you. Isn't that enough? Or do I have to die owing you before you're satisfied?"
He went still.
Then, slowly, his arms loosened. His jaw clenched, like he was fighting to keep control. "When did I ever ask you to repay me? When did I demand a single thing from you?" His voice dropped, rough with emotion. "Rachel, I know I hurt you. I wanted to hurt you. But you don't get to act like the victim here."
"You left me first. I spent everything I had to buy this house for you—and what did you do? The second I had nothing left, you walked away for someone with more money. I searched for you for a year, only to find out—" His voice shattered. "Only to see you—"
He was crying now, the words dissolving into something incoherent.
"Rachel, we've both hurt each other. Let's just... forget the past." His fingers brushed my wrist, tentative. "I've arranged the best doctors. Please... come with me."
I listened in silence, staring at him, searching his face for answers.
"Ethan," I whispered, "you hate me. Now that I'm dying... shouldn't you be happy?"
For one fragile moment, I wanted—needed—to hear him say he still loved me. Not out of pity, not out of obligation. Just... because some part of him still remembered.
But his next words shattered even that.
"Rachel, I'm not like you. I can't just turn off caring because it's convenient." His voice was thick, bitter. "Even if I hate you... how could I stand by and watch you die?"
So it wasn't love.
Just guilt. Just the weight of life and death forcing his hand.
"Save your money for Olivia."
I turned away. "In what little time I have left... I don't want to see you again."
End of Slapped on Our Anniversary Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to Slapped on Our Anniversary book page.