Trapped By My Bully Novel by Diana. L _ Novel




Trapped By My Bully Chapter 01

I married my high school bully.
During the blind date, he acted as if we were total strangers, and I played along.
Even though the past lingered painfully, I agreed to be with him, compelling myself to let it go.
After all, my parents kept pressuring me as I wasn't getting any younger, and he checked every box.
After we married, he treated me with such care and affection that it felt unreal; I kept wondering if this gentle, attentive man was really the same monster who had pushed me down the stairs years ago.
He remembered what I liked to eat. He cooked late-night meals when I worked overtime. He held me when I couldn't sleep.
But the kinder he was, the more ironic it felt.
Then, one weekend, he asked me to set the alarm on his phone.
After I unlocked it, I accidentally tapped into his notes.
The top entry had been created three years ago.
It was just one simple sentence, but it made my whole body shake.
***
My husband, Matthew Guerrero, was bustling about in the kitchen.
The range hood hummed softly.
The air smelled sweet and smoky from the barbecue ribs.
I set down my design draft and walked in.
He wore a plain white T-shirt and the gray apron I'd bought him. The warm yellow light softened the lines of his profile.
He heard me and turned.
"Nattie, you're up?"
His voice was low and gravelly, with a magnetic pull like the deep resonance of a cello.
I nodded.
"You must be hungry. I'm almost done here."
He smiled, his eyes bright and shining.
I leaned against the doorframe, watching him work the pan with ease, brush on the glaze, then set the glossy barbecue ribs on a white plate.
It was our first year of marriage.
He treated me perfectly.
He remembered all my preferences.
I didn't like onions and garlic, but I loved cilantro.
I had a sweet tooth, but I also craved a kick of heat in every meal.
I drank warm water in the morning and hot milk before bed.
He remembered every special day—our wedding anniversary, my birthday, and even our very first blind date.
He'd often leave a light on and have a hot meal waiting when I got home late from work.
When my period cramps had me sweating, he pressed his warm palm against my lower belly and awkwardly rubbed in circles.
When I woke from nightmares, he pulled me close, kissed my forehead, and whispered over and over, "It's okay. I'm here."
All my friends envied me.
They believed I'd married the right man, who truly loved me.
They said I was lucky; husbands like him didn't come around often.
I always just smiled and never explained.
Because they didn't know that this gentle man, who treated me like royalty, had once been the person who pushed me into hell.
I could never forget that winter during my second year of high school.
It snowed heavily.
There was no heating in the school building's stairwell; it was freezing and damp.
Matthew blocked me on the fourth-floor landing with a group of guys.
Back then, he was tall and lean, his uniform hanging loose, his expression sharp and defiant.
An unlit cigarette hung from his lips. He tilted his head and smirked.
"Natalie, I heard you told Mr. Bullock about us messing with that nerd."
I gripped my backpack strap. My nails dug into my palm.
"I didn't."
"How dare you lie to us!"
One of the boys behind him shoved me.
I staggered into the cold wall, and pain shot through the back of my head.
Matthew chuckled and stepped closer.
His shadow swallowed me.
He grabbed my chin and forced me to look up.
His fingers were cold and strong. It hurt.
"You know what?
"I hate being lied to."
He smelled faintly of smoke mixed with that clean scent boys sometimes had.
But I could barely breathe.
A cold, suffocating fear clenched my chest and coiled tighter.
"I... I really didn't..."
My voice shook.
"Still denying it, huh?"
His eyes turned cold.
"You'll take the hit for that nerd then."
At that, he let go of me.
Before I could react, he kicked my knee.
An excruciating pain ripped through me.
I lost my footing and tipped forward.
My body tumbled down the stairs before I could stop it.
Everything spun.
The last thing I saw was him looking down at me.
His gaze was cold and dismissive, as if I were nothing more than a speck of dust.
I didn't remember what happened after.
I spent a month in the hospital.
My left knee was fractured, and it never fully healed.
Every time the weather turned damp, the pain came back sharp and deep.
That incident haunted my entire high school life.
And Matthew, the vicious school bully everyone avoided, didn't face any real consequences, thanks to his family's wealth and influence.
In the end, all they did was make him offer me a meaningless apology.
After that, I made sure to steer clear of him at all costs.
We never crossed paths again, living in separate worlds, until three years ago at that blind date.
When he took the seat across from me in that restaurant, I nearly bolted.
Ten years later, he was very different.
Gone was the fierce, aggressive look of his youth. And his features were more chiseled and defined than before.
He wore a tailored suit with an expensive watch on his wrist.
He'd become handsome, successful, and completely self-possessed.
But I recognized him instantly.
Those eyes were exactly the same as they'd been ten years ago.
He paused for a split second when he saw me, then gave a polite, distant smile.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Ramirez."
He extended his hand.
I froze in place and didn't move.
He didn't seem bothered, withdrawing his hand as if nothing had happened.
That entire blind date, I sat stiff and uncomfortable.
He, on the other hand, played the perfect match.
He spoke with a witty charm and carried himself with perfect decorum.
He never mentioned the past, as if we were strangers meeting for the first time.
I didn't expose him.
I wasn't sure whether he truly didn't remember me.
Perhaps to him, I was nothing more than an insect he had casually stepped on in his reckless youth, not worth remembering.
I figured the blind date hadn't led to anything.
Instead, he started pursuing me.
He sent me flowers every day, texted me right on schedule, and carefully chose gifts for me.
He took me to galleries, concerts, and restaurants I'd wanted to try for years but could never get into.
Everything he did was thoughtful and deliberate.
My parents couldn't have been happier. They kept pushing me to give him a chance.
"Nattie, you're not getting any younger.
"A man like Mr. Guerrero is hard to find.
"He treats you so well. What are you waiting for?"
Yeah. What was I waiting for?
I was already 28.
I wasn't chasing romance anymore.
To me, marriage meant finding someone suitable and building a stable life.
And Matthew was the most "suitable" choice.
As for the past...
I told myself to leave it behind, that I had to move on.
So, I agreed to be with him.
We married soon after.
Everything happened so fast it felt unreal.
"What's on your mind? You seem miles away."
Matthew's voice pulled me back.
He set the barbecue ribs on the table, walked over, and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind.
His chin rested lightly in the curve of my shoulder.
His warm breath brushed the side of my neck. It tickled.
"Nothing," I said.
I turned my face aside, avoiding his touch.
His arms around me stiffened for a moment.
Then, they relaxed, as if nothing had happened.
"Go wash up. Dinner's ready."
He let me go, ruffled my hair, his voice as gentle and indulgent as always.
I walked into the bathroom and turned on the faucet.
Cold water ran over my fingers.
I looked at myself in the mirror.
My face looked pale.
Could I really... forget the past?
The eyes staring back at me were full of uncertainty.
I didn't know.
But I was sure that his kind gestures had never stirred anything in me.
All I felt was deep irony and a faint, lingering... fear.
I was terrified that his tenderness was only a mask, hiding the same monster who had kicked me down the stairs ten years ago.

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