I Crawled Through Hell. Turned To Be My Don Husband’s Loyalty Test Chapter 09
Linnea’s POV
When I stepped off the plane, I braced myself. Marcus was going to rip into me. I was sure of it.
He just pulled me in and held on.
“You’re home.” His voice was rough. “That’s all that matters.”
I grabbed the back of his jacket and fell apart.
“I’m sorry.” It came out broken, barely words. “Marcus, I’m so sorry.”
Five years of holding it together. Five years of swallowing every cry, every flinch, every scream.
One hug from my cousin and the dam collapsed.
He didn’t ask questions. He drove me straight to the hospital. Got my arm cleaned and stitched, then ordered a full workup.
The doctor unwrapped the makeshift bandage.
I watched Marcus in the corner of the room, jaw locked, staring at the wound. He didn’t speak for a long time.
Then: “When I get the chance, I’m going to destroy that son of a bitch.”
“You want Grandpa to hear you talking like that?” I said. “You remember what happened last time you got into a fight.”
“Besides. It’s over. There’s nothing between us anymore.”
Marcus let out a low, bitter sound.
“Worry about yourself tonight. Your Dad flew in. So did your uncles. All of them.”
A beating and a lecture. That’s what was waiting.
I turned to the doctor. “Could you wrap the arm a little thicker? Extra padding.”
If the old man saw the wound, he might go easy on me. Worth a shot.
Marcus got the exam results first. He sent them straight to the family group chat.
The whole ride home, he didn’t say a word.
I poked his arm. “It’s not like I’m dying. What’s with the face?”
“So my spine’s a little curved. My shoulder bones are slightly caved in. My knees are a little worn down. It’s nothing.”
He glanced at me. “I’d shut up if I were you.”
…
Nobody yelled at me. Not one of them.
Uncle Enzo, the hardest man in the family, the one who’d made me run drills until I cried when I was nine, just sat there and sighed.
“You’re home. That’s enough.”
That night I lay in bed and every bone in my body screamed at once.
Five years of hauling the dead. It had all settled into my joints, my spine, my knees. Waiting for the moment I stopped moving.
All those years, I never once complained to Dominic or Luca. Not a word.
I was terrified of being a burden.
I forgot the oldest rule: the child who doesn’t cry doesn’t get fed.
…
Days passed. I did nothing but heal and sit by the lake with my grandparents. Fishing rods in the water. Sun on my face.
I lay in the rocking chair and for a second it was like I was ten years old again.
A smaller chair sat next to mine. A pudgy little girl was curled up in it, asleep. Cheeks round and flushed.
Marcus’s college friend had dropped her off. The parents wanted a weekend alone. So naturally the mess landed on me.
I’d brought her out to the hot springs resort. She fell asleep on the way back.
I couldn’t help it. I poked her cheek. Soft. Warm. She scrunched her nose and kept sleeping.
I picked her up and started walking toward the room.
A small shadow followed behind me. I didn’t notice it until something slammed into my legs.
Two little arms wrapped around my knees. Tight.
“Mommy.” The voice cracked. “I found you.”
“How come you didn’t come see me for so long?”