CHAPTER 5
Work was also going well for me. Eventually, I received a raise, which allowed me to move into a bigger apartment.
Life finally felt stable.
I concluded my horse-riding training and decided to focus entirely on my job at the hotel.
About a week later, I was asked to deliver some belongings that one of our clients had accidentally left behind during their stay.
The items belonged to a Mrs. Robinson.
I drove to the address given to me and knocked on the door.
When it opened, I froze.
Standing in the doorway was Taylor, the horseman from the ranch.
For a brief moment we both looked surprised.
Then we exchanged greetings politely. I handed him the belongings and returned to the hotel.
After that day, Taylor began appearing at my workplace from time to time. Not because he was following me, but because the hotel often called him whenever there were electrical problems with the power.
He was an electrician.
Looking back now, I sometimes think he was the temptation God placed before me.
And I failed to resist it.
We slowly became friends.
Sometimes he would visit me, and I would teach him how to cook. We spent time talking, laughing, and getting to know each other.
Before long, we had become very close.
Taylor began opening up to me about his life.
He told me about his past addiction to gambling and how he had supposedly overcome it. The way he spoke about it made me believe he was truly trying to become a better person.
For someone like me, trust did not come easily.
But somehow…
I trusted him.
My guard had always been up around everyone.
But with Taylor, I slowly let it down.
One day he asked me out.
And I agreed.
I felt safe around him.
I allowed myself to become vulnerable.
Back then, people used to say that love was a beautiful thing.
I don't know if they still say that now.
Curious—and perhaps a little tempted by the idea—I wanted to experience love for myself.
So I let myself fall.
He made me smile.
He made me laugh.
He stayed beside me when I needed someone.
I believed he would never hurt me.
Since I had no one to walk me down the aisle, we eventually decided to marry quietly.
After the wedding, Taylor moved in with me because he didn't have a house of his own.
For our honeymoon, we traveled to Havana.
But something unusual happened during that trip.
We didn't have sex.
Every time he tried to undress me, painful memories would rush back into my mind.
Flashbacks of the past.
I would panic.
Sometimes I clawed at him, digging my nails into his skin as I fought him off without meaning to.
To his credit, Taylor was patient.
He understood that I was still healing.
Three months passed after our wedding, and we still had not been intimate.
Eventually, we began attending therapy sessions together.
They helped… a little.
I even went through hypnosis. I was told that confronting my fears would help me conquer them.
The therapist advised me to relax and allow myself to feel safe when the moment came.
The next time we tried being intimate…
It finally happened.
And surprisingly, it was wonderful.
The sensation was something I had never experienced before.
For the first time in my life, intimacy didn't feel like violence.
We had finally consummated our marriage.
At that moment, I allowed my walls to fall.
I believed it was time to let go of my anger.
What I didn't realize was that the very anger I was trying to abandon had been protecting me from manipulative people.
Seven months later, at the age of twenty-two, I became pregnant.
It was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me.
I never once regretted it.
When Matthew heard the news, he called to congratulate me.
He asked who the father was.
When I told him it was Taylor, he grew quiet.
Then he warned me about Taylor's past and advised me to be careful with him.
But I dismissed it.
I believed Taylor had changed.
At least…
That was what I thought.
During my pregnancy, I developed fibroids, which caused heavy bleeding. The doctors warned me that there was a high risk of miscarriage.
Then I went into labor earlier than expected.
Complications followed.
The baby was not positioned correctly, so the doctors recommended a C-section.
Both Taylor and I agreed.
By God's grace, my son was born.
His name was Jordan.
He was premature, but he was alive.
However, the doctors delivered devastating news afterward.
The fibroids had grown so severely that I was at high risk of developing cervical cancer.
The only safe option was to remove my womb.
We agreed.
Which meant one thing.
I would never have another child.
Jordan would be my only descendant.
But when I first held him in my arms, none of that mattered.
He was the most beautiful baby boy I had ever seen.
Curly hair.
Green hazel eyes.
Detective, if you had seen his first smile…
You would have melted.
Jordan was a calm baby.
He rarely cried.
He was peaceful.
Almost too peaceful for a child.
I eventually quit my job at the hotel because Taylor had secured a decent-paying job, and I wanted to stay home to take care of Jordan.
So I became a full-time mother and housewife.
Taylor's job often required him to work late hours.
At least…
That was what he told me.
But the truth was something else entirely.
Taylor had never conquered his gambling addiction.
Every day after work, he went to the casino.
He had lied to me.
For a long time, I suspected nothing because he still acted like a responsible husband and father at home.
But at the casino…
He owed people a lot of money.
One night, Taylor lost a three-million-dollar bet.
The man who won demanded his money immediately.
Of course, Taylor didn't have that kind of money.
So he told the man to come with him so he could retrieve it.
Fearing what might happen, Taylor drove somewhere with the man.
And then…
Taylor murdered him.
Taylor didn't own a car.
He always drove mine.
That night, I was at home playing with Jordan when Taylor suddenly burst through the door.
His shirt was covered in blood.
The moment I saw it, I felt the blood drain from my own face.
I asked him what had happened.
He told me he had gotten into a fight.
The fight escalated…
And he had killed someone.
Then he added something that made my heart stop.
"The body is in the car."
To this day, I don't know what came over me.
Maybe I was trying to prove that I was a loyal wife.
Maybe I was just terrified.
But I told him to stay home with the baby.
I took his bloody shirt and went outside to deal with the situation.
When I got into the car, the first thing I noticed was the bloody knife on the passenger seat.
I picked it up and wiped the blood off.
Then I opened the trunk.
The sight nearly made me faint.
The man's body was covered in so much blood that I couldn't even see where he had been stabbed.
My mind was racing.
Why had Taylor even been carrying a knife?
Before I could process anything, I heard sirens.
Loud.
Close.
Within seconds, I was surrounded by eight police officers.
They ordered me to drop the knife.
But I was still holding it when they rushed toward me.
They arrested me on the spot.
Everything happened so fast that I couldn't understand what was going on.
At first, I believed Taylor would come forward and explain everything.
I believed he would clear my name.
But days passed.
Then weeks.
And I never saw him.
Not even once.
That was the moment I realized the truth.
Taylor had used me as a scapegoat.