Ready To Run // h.s

thirty three

*Bit of a warning for this chapter, Matthew is a jerk.*

Mia

Four months later

  Four long months had passed.

  During those four months, I mostly tried to keep to myself. Matthew and I lived in a lavish mansion that was no more than three miles from the mansion that my parents owned. We had fifteen people on staff at our home- five for the cleaning, five for the kitchen, and five for the gardens. While Matthew spent his days at the office, I spent my days surrounded by the staff as they asked me relentlessly if there was anything they could do for me.

  "No thank you," I would smile politely. Once the person left, I would be approached not even ten minutes later by a new person on the staff and asked the same question. It was draining and at the end of the day I wished that we had no staff and I was left to do all the work. At least that would occupy my time.

  My relationship with my parents was still not good, but it was getting there. Mother would invite me over for tea every Thursday and we would sit in the large gazebo on the lawn and listen to the birds. Well, at least I tried to listen to them, but Mother would go on and on about how she wanted grandchildren soon and how she thought I looked too skinny. Little did she know that I had been skipping many, many meals because no longer did I have an appetite. My bones stuck out and made me look like a walking stick.

  My father and I did not speak. I was still horrified at what he had done to me. I was horrified at all of them, really. The pain and suffering that I had endured in the past four months was enough to make a person kill themselves. Not only was Matthew physically abusive, but my father was mentally abusive. The two of them combined made me no match for them, and so after trying time and time again to stick up for myself I finally just called it quits. It was too much energy to try and help myself, so I let myself be helpless as I sat around and wallowed in self pity. 

  Nighttime was the worst time of day for me. Matthew and I shared a giant king sized bed with plenty of room to have our own separate space, but he insisted that I lay right next to him every night. For hours I would lay awake as he snored in my ear, his arms wrapped around me, caging me in. He was similar to Harry in the fact that he liked to cuddle, but this made me feel more claustrophobic than comforted.

  Harry. I tried not to think of him much. Thinking of him only brought me pain. Sometimes, during the day when Matthew was not around, I would cry. I would kick and scream and bawl my eyes out as snot dripped down my nose and tears pooled down to my chin. I would cry until there were no tears left, and then I would lay in my big bed and try to sleep. Sleeping was my escape. But then, when I awoke, I was reminded that Harry wasn't with me, lying next to me in bed. That fact alone was enough for me to start up another fit. 

  But sometimes, at least once a day, I let my mind think of him. There were many things that I wondered, like- where was Harry today? Did he miss me? Did he move on? But there was no way for me to figure them out. On the first day that I became Mrs. Miles, I had all connections to the outside world taken from me. No longer could I sit on my phone and scroll through social media and the only time I was allowed to use the computer was under supervision. 

  Even if Harry had tried to contact me, the only way for us to be able to speak was if it was a face-to-face conversation, and I knew that would not happen in a million years. Sometimes I thought about Cat and how much I wanted to hold her and cuddle her. I wondered if she realized that I was gone and not ever coming back.