Chapter 7: Michael’s Reign Tightens

Amelia's weekend at the cabin had been a fleeting glimpse of the freedom she longed for, but as soon as she returned to the city, the weight of her reality came crashing back down. Michael was waiting for her at her apartment, his expression a mix of relief and something darker that made her stomach twist.

"Where have you been?" Michael's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room as soon as she walked through the door.

Amelia hesitated, her heart racing. She had purposely left her phone behind, wanting to disconnect from everything—including him. But she knew now that it had been a mistake.

"I needed some time to myself," she said quietly, trying to keep her tone neutral. "I went to a cabin by the lake. Just for the weekend."

Michael's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "You didn't tell me."

"I know," Amelia admitted, her voice wavering slightly. "I just… needed some space."

"Space?" Michael echoed, his voice growing colder. "From me?"

Amelia's breath caught in her throat. She could see the storm brewing in his eyes, and she knew she had to tread carefully. "It's not like that," she tried to explain. "I just needed time to think, to clear my head."

Michael took a step toward her, his presence looming over her like a dark cloud. "You needed time to think," he repeated, his tone laced with accusation. "Think about what, Amelia? About us? About leaving me?"

"No, Michael, that's not what I meant," Amelia said quickly, her voice trembling. "I just needed to get away for a bit, to relax. It wasn't about you."

Michael's expression darkened, and he reached out, gripping her arm tightly. The suddenness of the gesture made Amelia wince, a sharp pain shooting through her as his fingers dug into her skin.

"You don't just leave without telling me," Michael hissed, his face inches from hers. "Do you understand? You don't get to make decisions on your own. We're a couple, Amelia. We make decisions together."

Amelia nodded, fear gripping her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn't mean to upset you."

Michael's grip on her arm tightened, his eyes blazing with anger. "You need to start thinking about how your actions affect me," he said, his voice low and menacing. "I've given you everything, Amelia. I've taken care of you, protected you, and this is how you repay me?"

Amelia's heart pounded in her chest, the fear she had felt at the cabin returning tenfold. She tried to pull away, but Michael's hold was too strong. "Please, Michael, you're hurting me," she pleaded, her voice trembling.

Michael's eyes flickered with something like guilt, but it was quickly replaced by anger. He released her arm with a shove, sending her stumbling back. "You're the one who's hurting me, Amelia," he snapped. "You're the one who's making this difficult."

Amelia stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes. She felt trapped, caught between her fear of him and her fear of what might happen if she tried to leave. "I'm sorry," she repeated, her voice breaking. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Michael's expression softened slightly, but the tension in the room remained thick. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as if trying to calm himself. "I just don't want to lose you, Amelia," he said, his voice quieter now. "I love you. But you need to understand that when you do things like this, it makes me feel like you're pulling away. Like you don't trust me."

Amelia's heart ached at his words, the guilt washing over her. She knew she couldn't leave him—not now, not when he was hurting. "I do trust you, Michael," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Michael stepped closer, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I just want us to be happy, Amelia," he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You and me, together. That's all I want."

Amelia forced a smile, though it felt hollow. "I want that too," she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Michael smiled, leaning down to kiss her softly on the lips. The kiss was tender, but Amelia could feel the possessiveness in it, the unspoken demand for her compliance. When he pulled away, his hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin.

"Good," he said, his voice warm again. "Now, let's forget about this and move on. We have a life to build together."

Amelia nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her decision. She knew she had just surrendered another piece of herself, but she couldn't see a way out. Michael's love was suffocating, but it was also the only thing she had left. She had pushed everyone else away—her friends, her family, even herself—all in the name of keeping the peace, of keeping Michael happy.

As the days passed, Michael's grip on her life tightened even further. He began dictating her schedule, telling her when and where she could go, and who she could see. He questioned her every move, his paranoia growing more intense with each passing day. The freedom she had tasted at the cabin was a distant memory, replaced by the oppressive weight of Michael's control.

One evening, Amelia mentioned wanting to see an old friend from college. Michael's reaction was immediate and intense.

"Why would you want to see her?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "You haven't talked to her in years."

"She reached out to me," Amelia explained, trying to keep her tone calm. "I thought it would be nice to catch up."

Michael's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. "And what does she want? To drag you back into your old life? To take you away from me?"

"No, Michael, it's not like that," Amelia said quickly, sensing the danger in his tone. "It's just a friendly catch-up. Nothing more."

Michael shook his head, his expression hardening. "I don't like it," he said firmly. "You don't need her. You have me."

Amelia's heart sank. "Michael, she's just a friend…"

"Friends who fill your head with ideas," Michael interrupted, his voice rising. "Ideas that make you question our relationship, that make you think you don't need me."

Amelia flinched at the intensity of his words. She knew arguing with him would only make things worse, but the thought of cutting off another person from her life filled her with despair. "I'm not questioning us, Michael," she said softly, trying to placate him. "I just wanted to see her. But if it bothers you, I won't go."

Michael's expression softened, but his eyes remained cold. "I'm only looking out for you, Amelia," he said, his voice calm again. "I know what's best for us. You don't need anyone else. Just me."

Amelia nodded, the feeling of entrapment closing in around her. She had given up so much for Michael, and each concession made her feel smaller, weaker, until she barely recognized herself anymore. She was trapped in a life she no longer controlled, her every move dictated by Michael's desires and whims.

That night, as they lay in bed, Michael pulled her close, his arms wrapping around her possessively. "You're mine, Amelia," he whispered against her skin, his voice both tender and chilling. "Forever."

Amelia closed her eyes, the tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She felt like she was drowning in his love, a love that had turned dark and suffocating, leaving her gasping for air. She knew she needed to escape, but the way out seemed further away than ever.

As the night wore on, Michael's hand slid down her body, his touch both gentle and demanding. He kissed her, his lips trailing along her neck, his breath hot against her skin. Amelia's heart raced, a mix of fear and resignation flooding her senses. She knew what he wanted, knew she couldn't refuse him, but the thought of giving herself to him made her feel sick.

She let him take what he wanted, her body going through the motions while her mind drifted away, detaching itself from the moment. She imagined she was back at the cabin, by the lake, with the cool breeze on her skin and the sound of the water lapping at the shore. She pictured Liam's smile, his warm, easy presence, the way he had made her feel seen and safe.

But no matter how hard she tried to escape into her mind, Michael's touch kept pulling her back, reminding her of the reality she couldn't escape. When it was over, he held her close, his breath slowing as he drifted off to sleep. Amelia lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the tears still slipping silently down her face.

She was trapped, caught in a web of control and fear