After I was Domestically Abused

1

"Natalie, where's my breakfast?"

I woke up with a jolt, the burning pain in my back reminding me that I had been reborn—reborn to a time before my domestic abuse was exposed.

Sarah kicked open the door. "Didn't you hear me calling? Where's my breakfast?"

Looking at my young daughter in her school uniform, Sarah Miller, I recalled her indifferent attitude in my previous life after I was attacked online.

A wave of impatience surged in me. "Can't you make it yourself? You've got hands and feet, don't you?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Sarah's disbelief was evident.

"I'm talking to you! I don't owe you anything, so why should I serve you?" I stood up, supporting my waist, already planning to go to the hospital for an injury report.

Sarah continued to rant, filling the room with her curses.

I ignored her, grabbed my bag and phone, and walked out the door.

After picking up my medication and the injury report, I spotted my abusive husband, Joseph Miller, from afar.

The last thing I wanted was to see his disgusting face, especially after just coming back to life. I noticed Joseph entering the obstetrics and gynecology department.

Hesitating for a moment, I quietly followed him.

The woman in Joseph's arms was his first love, Amanda Harris.

Back then, Amanda had dumped Joseph and gone abroad, leaving him depressed for half a year. He even vowed that if he ever went back to Amanda, he wouldn't be a man.

I secretly snapped a few photos. The priority now was to gather evidence. In my previous life, I was kept in the dark until the very end.

As a well-known entrepreneur, Joseph skillfully used public opinion to make others believe I was the mistress while clearing his own name, driving me to death.

Before they noticed me, I slipped out of the hospital, realizing for the first time how exceptionally bright the sunlight was today.

In a daze, I found myself standing at the door of my grandmother, Sophia Rodriguez's house.

Just as I was about to turn and leave, I hesitated, and then her voice called out behind me, "Who's there? Why don't you come in?"

The moment I heard Sophia's voice, tears welled up in my eyes. I was an orphan, adopted by Sophia, the only family I had in this world.

In my previous life, when I was being attacked, Sophia, who was over seventy, had stood on the street holding a sign, arguing with people to protect me, and brought me back to her small courtyard.

Sophia had a stroke due to the stress, and despite being only two streets away from the hospital, the roads were blocked by online attackers, and she couldn't be saved.

"Natalie, why aren't you coming in?" Sophia took my hand.

"Oh dear, you're hurt?" Sophia immediately noticed the bruises on my arm and pulled out a first aid kit to tend to them.

I hadn't been at Sophia's place long when Joseph called, yelling at me the moment I answered and then ordering me to get back home.

I calmly finished cooking for Sophia, checked the time, and leisurely took a cab home.

When I returned, Joseph was sitting regally on the sofa, swirling a glass of red wine in his hand. It was a sign that he was furious.

The moment I set my bag down, Joseph stood up and hurled the wine glass at my head. The glass shattered on the floor, and warm blood trickled down my forehead.

He grabbed my hair, yanking me backward. I couldn't help but fall, my whole body hitting the ground as my head spun.

"Why didn't you make breakfast?" Joseph crouched down, his breath on my neck, cold and menacing, like something that had crawled out of hell.

I couldn't stop trembling, the old wounds on my body aching faintly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the flashing camera in my bag, and I started to laugh hysterically.

"Joseph, you're scared, scared that you're losing control over me." Perhaps it was the eerie laughter or the sight of my bloodied face, but Joseph hesitated for a moment before slapping me again.

I stood up and wiped the blood from my face.

He took a step closer, dressed in his fine suit, still looking every bit the gentleman, but it was just a facade.

I glanced at the freshly opened bottle of wine on the table, grabbed it, and, without hesitation, smashed it over Joseph's back.

Unfortunately, Joseph was too tall, and the bottle only barely hit his back, spilling wine all over his gray suit.

"Here's your bottle back. Don't touch me again, or I'll drag you to hell with me," I said with a smile.

When Sarah came home from school, she found the house to be a mess, but she was already used to it.

Seeing Sarah, Joseph refrained from continuing his assault.

The room fell into a deathly silence as I calmly took out the first aid kit to tend to my wounds.

"Sarah, I've made it clear to your father, don't expect me to serve either of you anymore," I said coldly.

Sarah glanced at Joseph, who remained silent. Finally, with a resigned tone, she said, "Got it."

2

Ever since I fought back against Joseph, he and our daughter had quieted down for a few days, giving me the chance to begin planning my return to the spotlight.

In my previous life, the domestic abuse Joseph inflicted on me gained public attention not just because he was a well-known entrepreneur but also because I had made a name for myself as a pianist.

However, after marrying Joseph, I gradually withdrew from the scene and stopped participating in any performances.

And now, the internet was buzzing with news of Amanda's upcoming performances. Joseph was truly willing to spend money on her, renting out the city's largest concert hall for her first show.

Such premium resources naturally stirred jealousy among others in the industry. As I scrolled through the comments, my finger paused on one.

"What's Amanda compared to Natalie? In terms of skill and looks, she doesn't hold a candle to Natalie. It's just a shame Natalie faded from the scene."

My mentor, Andrew Lewis, was a renowned pianist in the industry. This was the first time I contacted him since stepping away from the stage to focus on my family.

Back when I decided to leave, Andrew called me many times to persuade me otherwise, but I refused to answer.

Andrew was about my age, with exceptional talent in piano. Being able to learn from him was a rare opportunity that money couldn't buy.

I met Andrew when I was playing the piano part-time at a high-end restaurant. He noticed me and, from then on, began sponsoring my piano education. I became his only publicly acknowledged student.

A cool voice came through the phone, "Who is this?"

"Andrew, it's me," I tried to keep my voice steady.

I arrived at the restaurant as promised, feeling a bit nervous as I stood at the entrance. To my surprise, Andrew appeared behind me. "What are you standing there for?"

I smiled awkwardly and followed him inside.

It was true what they say: bad luck never comes alone.

Joseph's table was conveniently positioned near the entrance, and I was sure he had seen me.

"Your husband and Amanda?" Andrew was clearly caught off guard by the situation.

I rolled my eyes and looked for a better spot further inside.

"Natalie, are you dining with Mr. Lewis? Why don't you join us?" Amanda said with a smile, pulling out a chair next to her.

Just as I was about to refuse, Andrew walked over and glanced at Joseph. "Ms. Harris, someone of your status shouldn't have to pull out a chair yourself."

Joseph snapped out of it and stood up. "Oh, look at me, too focused on eating." He moved to pull out the chair for me.

"Mr. Miller, no need. Natalie doesn't like to trouble others, so I'll do it," Andrew said with a smile.

I silently applauded him. Seeing the scar on my forehead that had just begun to heal, he likely pieced together what had happened to me.

I sat down, and Andrew casually handed me the menu. An eerie atmosphere hung over the table.

"I've already arranged everything. After this meal, you'll come to the studio tomorrow to practice," Andrew said.

I was taken aback. I hadn't even mentioned that I was planning a comeback, yet Andrew had already made the arrangements.

"Are you making a comeback?" Two voices spoke simultaneously from across the table. Joseph stared at me in disbelief.

Realizing she had lost her composure, Amanda quickly added in a soft tone, "Natalie, when did you decide this? I haven't heard Joseph mention it."

"Why would she need Joseph's permission for her own career?" Andrew shot back without a hint of mercy.

Amanda hadn't expected such a response from Andrew and looked visibly embarrassed.

"And what business is it of yours? Natalie is my wife. And be polite to Amanda," Joseph said, his eyes carrying a warning.

"So, you do remember that she's your wife," Andrew mocked. "I thought you'd lost interest by now."

Joseph clenched his fists, his entire demeanor suggesting that any moment now, he would hurl me to the ground and beat me with a stick. I was all too familiar with this behavior, and it was the prelude to one of his outbursts.

"Joseph, don't be rude to Mr. Lewis. It's true, I was out of line," Amanda said soothingly.

"I've made up my mind to return, and I simply forgot to discuss it with you. But even if you disagree, I'm still going to do it." I raised my eyebrows at Joseph.

"Ms. Harris, there's no need to calm him down. From what I know of him, he won't dare do anything here," I said, turning to Amanda with a sweet smile.

Amanda's face flushed, and she quickly withdrew her hand from Joseph's arm.

3

After leaving the restaurant with Andrew, he handed me a folder as we parted ways.

When I opened it, I found a comprehensive record of Joseph's infidelity.

No wonder Sarah's attitude toward me had been getting worse, and it turned out Joseph had already introduced her to Amanda. The three of them had even gone on trips together right under my nose.

The more I read, the more shocked I became, especially when I saw the photos and records of Amanda visiting the hospital for pregnancy check-ups. She was three weeks along.

Satisfied, I carefully tucked the evidence away. When I got home, Joseph was already there, and as expected, he grabbed me by the throat the moment I walked in. "Who gave you permission to play the piano?"

The feeling of suffocation was unbearable. I kicked Joseph hard. "What's the matter? Afraid my comeback might overshadow Amanda?"

Joseph released me, and I gasped for air, desperately filling my lungs with it. I grabbed his suit tie and snarled, "I've warned you many times, don't push me."

Joseph looked at me, stunned.

"What's wrong? You can't bear to hit Amanda, so you come home and take it out on me?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them, laced with bitterness.

Joseph's expression grew tighter. He picked up a broom from the corner and began hitting me with it in a frenzy. I shielded my head as best I could.

"I didn't give you permission to play the piano. How dare you?" Joseph pulled me up and kept slapping me in the face.

I had anticipated this. Any sign of defiance would only make him hit harder. But that was fine, and the camera caught everything.

Exhausted, Joseph put down the broken broom and gripped my chin, glaring at me. His voice was venomous. "Don't think you can defy me. Remember Sophia, she lives alone."

His words sent a shudder through me. The threat to Sophia, my only family, hit me like a thunderclap.