Chapter 32

Matt’s voice dropped to a venomous hiss, the words dripping with contempt. “You’re just like her, aren’t you?”

The question, sharp and laced with disdain, hung between them, freezing the air. Colette felt the weight of his accusation slam into her like a physical blow. The storm inside him had not subsided; if anything, it had only intensified, and she could feel its fury emanating from him in waves. He was standing so close, just a breath away, his raw disgust radiating from his eyes—disgust so intense it seemed to sear her skin. Colette didn’t need to ask who he meant—she knew.

“My mother,” he spat, the bitterness in his tone cutting like a knife. His voice was a low, dangerous growl, each word filled with venom. “She was the same way. Blackmailing my dad day in and day out. Anytime something didn’t go her way, she’d threaten to leave, cry, fight with him until he gave in. I was only five when she decided she wanted another child, and she did everything in her power to make it happen. She blackmailed him, fought with him every night, kicked him out of their bed until he caved under the pressure and agreed.”

Colette felt as if the floor had dropped out from under her. She hadn’t known—had never imagined—the depth of the wounds Matt carried from his childhood. The anger in his voice was the anger of a man who had lived through the consequences of his parents’ toxic relationship, who had witnessed the damage done by his mother’s manipulations and his father’s weakness.

His voice shook with the memory, the anger and pain of a lifetime boiling to the surface. “He didn’t earn enough for a bigger family, but she didn’t care. She pushed and pushed, and like a lovesick fool, he gave in. Five fucking kids later, we were living in a practically poverty-stricken house with barely enough food to survive, all because she knew how to twist him around her finger. And he let her, because he loved her.”

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the air thick with unspoken accusations. Colette could barely breathe, her heart pounding in her chest. She could see the pain in Matt’s eyes, the hurt that went far deeper than anything she had realized. But there was also something else—something darker, more twisted, lurking in the shadows of his gaze.

Matt’s eyes were dark with self-loathing as he added, “I guess I’m a bit like my father too. Because I love you, and I’m ready to do anything you want.” The words were a bitter confession, filled with the cruelty of a man who hated himself as much as he hated the situation he was in. The cruelty in his voice as he said those words made Colette shiver violently, the words leaving an icy trail down her spine. “So here you go,” he hissed, his tone laced with bitter venom. “I give in. Stop this blackmailing game. For the last two years, you’ve been crying for a baby, haven’t you?” He was gripping her arms now, his fingers digging into her skin as he spoke. “You want a baby? Fine. I’ll give you one. Come home tonight, and I’ll be the stud you wanted. I’ll fuck you raw, for as long and as hard as you want, so you can finally have your heart’s dearest desire—a child.”

The words were too much, a twisted perversion of everything she had ever wanted. It was as if someone had taken her sweetest dreams and twisted them into a horror film. The cruelty in his words, the venom in his tone, was unbearable. It was as if he was taking every hope and dream she had ever had and shattering it into a million pieces.

And then it happened. Before she even realized what she was doing, her hand flew up and struck him across the face. The slap echoed in the tense air between them, a harsh crack that seemed to freeze time.

For a moment, neither of them moved, both shocked by what had just happened. The silence that followed was deafening, filled with the echoes of her action and the weight of their shattered relationship. Colette stared at her hand, trembling, as if it belonged to someone else. But the sting on her palm was real, and so was the burning anger in her chest. She hadn’t even been aware of the action, but it had happened with all the force of her pent-up frustration, pain, and sorrow.

Matt’s face remained turned to the side from the impact, his cheek already reddening. The shock of what had just happened hung between them, the silence filled with the heavy realization that they had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.

The Stormy Reclamation: A Marriage in Ruins
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