Chapter 2
The next morning, Patricia acted as if nothing had happened.
She woke me at five-thirty by pounding on the door.
“Get up, girl. Nobody lies around in this house while everyone else works.”
From then on, my life became a nightmare.
I made breakfasts, did laundry, mopped all three floors, and waited on guests. My mother-in-law even forbade me from using the washing machine for Brad’s shirts because, she said, it ruined them.
My hands began to crack from the detergent.
The worst part was that nothing was ever enough.
“You can tell nobody ever taught you how to keep a decent home,” she would say, running a finger along the furniture.
Brad listened to all of it without saying a word.
But I had a secret.
Before the wedding I had studied bookkeeping, though I never finished my professional certification. I decided to enroll in an online program covering accounting, payroll, and electronic invoicing so I could get a better job.
The classes were online, every night.
When I asked to put a small desk in our bedroom, my mother-in-law burst out laughing.
“What do you need to study for? You already have a husband. Learn to cook the way God intended.”
She pointed to a narrow vanity next to the mirror.
“You’ve got plenty of room right there.”
For weeks I studied hunched over that surface, balancing my laptop on my knees because my books wouldn’t fit.
I slept four hours a night, sometimes less.
One Sunday we went to visit my parents.
Mom hugged me the moment I walked in.
“Sweetheart, why are you so thin? And what happened to your mouth?”
I had tried to cover the wound with makeup.
“I bit it while eating, Mom. I’m fine.”
Brad appeared then with a charming smile.
He helped my father carry some sacks of feed, praised the food, and promised to take them on a trip.
Watching him play the perfect son-in-law turned my stomach.
On the drive back, when we were alone in the car, he asked:
“You didn’t tell them anything about that night, right?”
“No.”
He smiled, satisfied.
That was when I understood how much he counted on my silence.
Days later I traveled to Des Moines to pick up some belongings. I took the chance to meet Jenna, my best friend, who worked in human resources.
When she saw my face and heard what had happened, she went cold.
“Megan, that’s abuse. You don’t have to wait until you get a job to leave. You can stay with me.”
I showed her the photos I had saved.
Jenna hugged me and promised to help me find work once I finished my training. She also asked me to prepare a safe way out.
I went back to Cedar Falls with a decision: I would not let them control my money or my documents.
In secret I bought a folding table for $45 and set it up in a little closet under the stairs.
It smelled of damp, was full of old boxes, and barely had any ventilation.
But there, nobody bothered me.
One night, Kelsey, my twenty-two-year-old sister-in-law, found me studying.
“Megan, I’m sorry I didn’t defend you when Brad hit you.”
Her eyes were full of tears.
“You don’t have to carry what your brother did,” I told her. “But never let anyone treat you that way.”
From then on she started helping me with the housework so I could study.
Three weeks later, Brad came home drunk from a get-together.
He stumbled in and found me going over practice problems.
“Still playing at being an accountant,” he sneered.
I tried to ignore him.
Then he grabbed my wrist.
“You know something, Megan? I didn’t even want to get married.”
A chill ran through me.
He kept talking, slurring his words.
“My mom’s the one who picked you. My other girlfriends had too many demands.”
Quietly, I turned on the recorder on my phone.
“Then why did you marry me?” I asked.
Brad burst out laughing.
“Because my mother and I made a deal before the wedding. And you turned out to be perfect for what we needed.”
He leaned in close to my ear.
May you like
“Want to know how much we saved by choosing you?”
And then he told me what they had really planned to do with me from day one.
