"Who gives you the permission to use my stuff?" his angry voice startles me, making me jumped from the desk.

"Since when I need permission from you?" I snarl.

"Since the house is still mine because you suck at being honest," he pushes me away from the desk before slumps into the chair and reads my conversation on the macOs screen. "You've been confiding our problems to strangers again, haven't you?!"

"Razlan was my senior back in uni," I explain while he's half-listening and moves up the cursor to view my status.

"Have you no shame?! You rather publicize our problems to the world than to share them with me?!" he vexes. "Do you think people would give a damn about us? We're a laughing stock now thanks to you!"

"You never care about me. All you care about is your daughter. What about my feelings, Saint? What about them?!" I bark back.

"Come on! Saloma's just a baby," he groans. "Talk to mommy instead. She'd gone through shit that you can't even bear. She'll tell you to suck it up and be strong."

"I'm not like your mom, Saint. You and I have our own issues and talking to her doesn't solve it," I defend.

"You're the one who has issues," he points out. "I've to handle Saloma's welfare while you mope around thinking how miserable your life is. What about me and the things I do for us?"

"That's what I'm doing right now. We need counselling because we're hurting ourselves and it's not healthy for Saloma either," I reason out.

He swivels the chair towards me and snickers. "Don't play dumb with me, Sofia. Couples therapy often leads to divorce. You are manipulating the scene so you can take Saloma away from me. We both know this country doesn't allow me to win her custody regardless. That's your plan."

"No, we need help. We're not being fair to each other," I repeat and I can feel my voice is cracking.

"You talk about fairness like I haven't got a clue. You're the one who doesn't make sacrifices for us," he alleges. "And stop pretending to be weak for others to sympathise with you."

"And you aren't holy either, are you? You pretended to be Anita's victim so I could fall for you," I disclose.

He pauses to my statement and I can see his anger churning deeper inside him. "But I had you even before my break up. What's the difference?" he retorts. "So, you spoke ill of me to her behind my back?"

"Was I the reason you two split?" I brave a question.

He gets up from the chair and paces a few steps forward while I edge away from him a few steps back. As his burly self gets closer, he lowers his head and penetrates his angry eyes into mine for intimidation, but I gather every courage to confront him.

"What's your verdict?" he asks back.

"I think you're one selfish bastard," I allege. "You just get what you want, you don't really care who gets hurt."

"Yeah, I am because you made me this way!" he admits in between his bitter laugh.

Suddenly, he grabs me by the throat and pushes me to the bookshelves behind me. Out of panic, I tiptoed backwards but his force is stronger that my legs lost coordination and I almost trip. I look at his aggrieved face only to find that it is more threatening than angry. He is not the same Saint I once knew, he is dangerous.

"Saint, don't!" I choke, prying off his fingers from putting pressure on my air supply but fail.

He ignores my plea and strangles me until I cough hard and he finally eases his grip. "You shouldn't be meddling with my affairs. Those are out of your concern."

"Saint, please. No!" I beg in between my gasp, still trying to break myself from the choking. "Sayang, I'm sorry."

"Now you're supplicating because I'm a threat!" he sniggers, fury running red through his veins. "I love you, I always have. But I've been heartbroken all my life when you walked out on me.

"Yes, I made you want me so I can take everything from you just to settle some scores. But I crave more than that, I want to own you when no one else can. Only then I can control you. This is the only way to love, the way I wanted to."

As much as I try to regain myself from the sudden lack of air into my system, I'm too confused by his unexpected confession that I realise I don't know my husband anymore. What have I done to turn him into this monster?

I find an impulsive urge to move my body around aggressively to lose his grip. I turn around and thrust his rib with my elbow several times until he recoils in pain. When I'm fully released, I sprint out of the study towards his bedroom where Saloma is to rescue her from this callous beast. I need to get out from this place and I'm taking Saloma with me. Saint is not fit to be a husband, never mind being a father. And I fear that he might do something unthinkable to his daughter or turn aggressive on her whenever he can't have me to relish himself.

I delicately but swiftly drag Saloma out of the bassinet that's attached to the bed and almost have her in my arms when Saint seizes from behind to stop me. Saloma is shocked by the sudden movement that wakes her up from her nap as she witnesses the distresses in the room, all confused.

"Let go of me!" I exclaim, writhing through his tight grasping once again.

"Stay away from my daughter, you fat bitch!" he bellows.

Our brawling frightens Saloma that she whimpers before it gradually turns into a loud cry. Saint swiftly straddles on top of me in between the fight while I lie facing down. As I scream for him to stop, I feel my pyjama dress has been lifted above my butt while he lowers his body against mine. I try to escape but the weight of his body on top of me stalls my movement and Saloma's amplified crying has weakened my soul.

Saint however, is unaffected by her screaming. He resumes hurting me and takes a few rough strikes inside me from behind, unleashing his long waited desires that I ignored for months since our baby's birth. I bit my bottom lip, enduring the pain of his violation and pray that he doesn't touch Saloma the same.

After he's done with me, his grip softens and he sobs apologetically behind my ear. I tilt my head up towards Saloma, watching her screaming becomes unsettling rather than dwindling. I feel sorry for her that she had to see the mess her parents made during her infancy. I obviously failed her as a mother.

I glance behind to see Saint still sobbing above me. Feeling disgusted over his actions, I turn my sight away from him. He may have won the fight but he had lost the battle. I don't feel love for him anymore and I don't think I want to be a part of his memory moving forward after what he had done to me.

With all the remaining strength I have, I move my body around to face him, lying flat on my back. I watch tears streaming from his remorseful eyes but I offer no emotions in return. He tries to apologise but I refuse to accept it. I feel numb that I have no more strength to love him. I feel hurt by him.

"You're just like Naim!" I taunt at him. "In fact, you are far worse. You're an animal. I hate you."

Wow! You've made it all the way to 30th Chapter! Thank you so much. It means a lot to me!

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Photo source : (Cover photo) weheartit.com, (Inline photo) MakeAGIF.com