Chapter 10

Minerva’s body was indeed swollen due to last night’s bed session.

            Darwin already left for work and even gave her a sweet, wife-y kiss first before closing the door.

            She had been folding her apparel, ironing her undergarments, and washing his dirty clothes; like what a housewife should do.

            But Minerva wasn’t a housewife—not a wife either, not yet. She was only doing this as she had accepted the fact that from now on, she will be staying in this penthouse—she will be living from this moment with Darwin.

            She had swept the floor, washed the dishes, and even wiped some dusty things inside despite her condition. She doesn’t know why. She’s uncomfortable just staying and chilling in here. Minerva is used to being independent. Hence, she’s not used to letting other people do the housekeeping for her ever since she was young.

            As she was dusting, she saw a picture of Darwin atop a wooden cabinet. He looks so young and naïve in the photo—and so handsome, of course.

            She took it and caressed the frame, then his face. She then put it between her chest like some sort of a lovesick teenager holding her crush’s only photo.

            Minerva was so indulgent into it when her phone alarmed. “Gosh, it’s time to drink wheat milk.”

            Darwin had bought her a whole jug of wheat milk since it was his mother’s favorite dairy when she was conceiving him.

            Minerva took one sip and she almost puked if she didn’t cover her mouth with her hand.

            “I’m sorry Darwin but I don’t like this milk,” she uttered while wiping her mouth with kitchen tissue. She spotted a strawberry milk drink and seized it. “This is more I like it.”

            She left half of the bottle of strawberry milk for her lunch and then put it in the fridge. As for the wheat milk…she just poured a glass and fed it to Cleo, Darwin’s Siamese cat who was playing a yarn at the couch. The cat drank it cheerfully. She truly doesn’t like wheat milk to be honest.

            Minerva peered at Darwin’s picture again and fondled her belly lovingly. “Just wait, dearest. I promised you…I swear to you that you will have a father as soon as you come out.”

            It was more a task to resolve for her than a promise to her child. Her phone suddenly beeped and Rhea’s words greeted her. She tried to ignore it but Rhea says she wanted to meet her and talk about her being a payment to Darwin.

            The time that she was about to accept wholly her status of being a debt payment and completely forgot all about that is also the time that her mother bothered her and confronted her…and also wanted to talk about her situation.

            She doesn’t give a shit about it and was about to turn her phone off when Rhea said that, if Minerva can’t go, she and William will be the one to visit her in Darwin’s penthouse.

            Her mind changed in an instant. She never wants to bring nuisance in her new fortress. “It’s best to keep the mice away from the new home of the cheese.”

            She then replied to Rhea that she will agree to meet her if she doesn’t cause that much stress to her. Her mother agreed and told her that they’ll meet at her old apartment as the two had bought it for it to be rented by a tenant.

            Minerva grabbed a coat and a scarf and left Darwin a voice message telling him that she’ll meet Rhea. She bid farewell to Cleo first and even kissed Darwin’s picture.

            “I shall return,” she declared as she gave young Darwin’s picture one last look before going out.

***

“What took you so long, Minerva?” Rhea asked her as a form of greeting as she arrived at her old apartment. “I’ll be out for breakfast at the nearest diner for a while.”

            Minerva just shrugged, disregarding her mom’s thundering voice and proceeded to the door towards her bedroom.

            As soon as she recognized the back of the man who seemed to be searching something in her drawer, she froze.

            It was William Reeves, her mother’s bitch of a man.

            She was about to step back when she knocked down a pile of books that she realized were the ones she inherited from her father.

            William immediately turned back and greeted her with a smile, a fake and malicious one.

            “Hello Minerva.” There he is again—with his rasp, rough voice that somehow beckons her to undress.

            Minerva stepped back again. Her hand on her belly—a mother’s instinct to protect her little one in times of a predator’s presence.   

            “Your belly is now quite bigger than the last time, eh?”

            She takes hold of herself, forcing her mind to think clearly on what to do. William saw her throat bobbed—a sign of a prey’s fear. 

He yielded a step forward. She stepped back.

            Minerva was about to sprint for the door. But, with William’s size and strength, he managed to get to it first and sealed it shut.

            His smile is of a Cheshire’s cat, a victorious grin. Minerva went to the opposite side of her bed. She looked back and fathomed that the only thing on her back was the wall with a closed window a few inches from her. Her bed for years in front and a tiny bed-side table with a cheap lamp that she bought from Etsy.

            Technically, she’s trapped.

            “Come here, Minerva.”

            She tried not to cry or even shed a tear but her emotions seemed to conquer over her mind. She did shed one tiny tear. Then followed by another.

            “Why are you crying?” He is the only one who seemed to be able to talk between them.

            Minerva is panicking. Her hands are now on her back. She sighed before ducking to the floor and eventually bursting to tears.

            “Get out.” She managed to utter it despite her shaky voice.

            “I’m sorry, what?” William clarified as he tried to step towards her. He successfully did.

            “Get out!” She yelled now with great rage.

            Before she could duck again, William pushed her to the bed and began preying on her like how a lion feast on a lamb.

            “Stay still, sweetie,” he commanded as he fixed his body on top of hers.

            William began to take off his polo shirt, then his undergarment. He kissed her with force. She tried kicking him on his groin to no avail. Her two hands were locked as they were held by him on either side of her head.

            When William tried to distance a few meters away from her to remove his pants, she wasted no time. She shouted with all the voice she could, gathering all the forces that still cling on to her essence.

            William immediately covered her mouth. In punishment and anger, he slapped her on the face and punched her throat.

            Minerva wished she never went to this place again, even with her mother’s assertion.