I turned towards Caleb, my voice tight with barely contained anger. "Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now? Do you really hate me that much?"
He refused to let Nina go to a party full of men, but somehow, dressing me up like a toy didn't bother him. Caleb's eyes flicked over me, filled with irritation.
When he finally registered what I was saying, he snapped out of his thoughts, and a cruel smile crept across his face.
"Hate you? Of course, I hate you. I wish you were dead."
After Caleb's parents divorced, his father hired my mom to look after him, worried he would have no one without a mother.
But what started as care evolved into something deeper between them, and eventually, my mom and his dad got together.
Caleb hated my mother for it, convinced she'd schemed her way into their family.
So, all his resentment and anger were directed at me. Tormenting me became his favorite hobby. Caleb never understood that my mother loved him more than his biological mother ever did.
Right then, the party started. As I walked into the room, I realized that the men inside were just like Caleb.
Their eyes raked over me like I was some kind of trophy, their grins lecherous as they shoved drinks into my hand, toasting me over and over again.
For the sake of my mother's ashes, I forced myself to keep drinking. The alcohol burned all the way down in my stomach.
Each glass only made the pain worse, and soon, I was battling with nausea.
A woman getting drunk at a party like this? I didn't need to think too hard to know what would happen next.
A sharp pain twisted in my abdomen. I walked out and stumbled towards the bathroom, hoping to slip away unnoticed.
But just as I reached the door, my phone buzzed. A message from Caleb flashed across the screen:
'Get back here.'
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the door handle.
Another buzz, and this time, a picture appeared. My stomach dropped as I opened it. The photo showed Caleb's hand gripping my mother's urn, casually dangling it over the edge of a tall building, ready to drop it at any second.
Panic surged through me as I looked up, scanning the area. Across from the party, in the building opposite, I spotted him.
Caleb stood there, one hand in his pocket, the other holding my mother's urn, watching me with that same cold, detached expression.
He had seen how I'd been humiliated, my failed attempt to escape, and ultimately, my surrender.