He slammed his fist on the table.
—I know better than you what is best for your future.
On my wedding day, people came up to me, hugged me, and told me how happy I looked.
I was only smiling because my mother had warned me that if I cried in front of anyone, my father would burn all my school books.
During my first week at Ryan’s house, I realized that that place would never become my home.
Ryan was incredibly messy.
He would throw his dirty clothes on the floor, walk into the bedroom with his shoes on, and leave used cups under the bed for days. He worked at his father’s company, but often returned home before noon and spent the rest of the day lying on the sofa.
I was expected to clean up everything he dirtied, wash his clothes, prepare his favorite meals, and even pick up the trash he left lying around.
Every morning, at five o’clock sharp, Margaret would open the door to our bedroom.
He never called.
She would simply walk in and announce that there was no room in her house for a lazy daughter-in-law.
If I found a speck of dust on a table, I’d make myself clean the whole house again. If dinner tasted even slightly different from what Ryan wanted, I’d lift the pot and dump everything in the trash.
At night, when I sat exhausted by the window, I watched the students returning from school.
Sometimes I recognized some of my former colleagues.
When that happened, I would hide behind the curtain so they wouldn’t see me.
Ryan expected me to accept him immediately as my husband. But I didn’t love him, I didn’t trust him, and I refused to let him near me.
There was never a marital relationship between us.
At first she was furious. Then she started telling her mother everything.
Margaret insulted me and said I had dishonored her family. Once she even suggested taking me to the doctor to prove that “the problem was with me.”
I locked myself in the bathroom and stayed there all night.
I barely managed to endure five months in that house.
The only person who sometimes spoke to me as if I were a human being was Helen.
She was Ryan’s older sister. She lived in another city and visited her mother once a month. Helen always silently watched as Margaret gave me orders.
One day he found me in the small backyard of the house. I was cleaning the mud off Ryan’s shoes while I cried silently.
