"Look at yourself! Is that the woman who begged me to come home? Don't you dare tell me you don't love me, Alice!"
His rage was so volatile that even Bonnie flinched in the corner.
But I didn't cower. I laughed.
I laughed at his arrogance. I laughed because he truly believed his own delusions.
Years ago, when Evan first started parading Bonnie around as "Mrs. Delgado," I had asked for a divorce. The family refused. Catherine had torn my university acceptance letter into confetti.
"You will not leave Evan's side until you give me a great-grandson," she'd commanded. "No matter who he sleeps with, you will fulfill your duty. Your dreams are irrelevant. Your only purpose is to serve your husband."
She doubled the dosage of those vile fertility tonics. To avoid drinking the bitter sludge that made my hands shake—to escape this hell sooner—I submitted to Evan's twisted demands. Not out of desire, but desperation. I needed to get pregnant again. It was my only bargaining chip.
The Delgados never made a losing deal. They had invested years in me and were determined to squeeze out every drop of value.