He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 239

"I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to kill myself three times. Then, my attending doctor took a liking to me. For every time I let him touch me, he’d cancel one of my 'treatments'. For every time I stripped naked for him, he made things slightly better, eventually moving me to a private room."

"It was only after I got the private room that I realized he wanted to sleep with me. He told me to spread my legs... so I castrated him."

"The hospital threw me in solitary confinement. They starved me. I almost died in that pitch-black room."

"Later, they assigned me a new doctor. He didn't want my body; he just wanted money. I remembered the gold bars you gave me, sitting in a bank vault. I bought him off."

"And that's how I got out."

Ottilie let out a dry, broken laugh as she spoke. "Hating you became the only thing keeping me alive. And now you want to sleep with me? To me, you're no different than the disgusting men in that asylum unzipping their pants."

Every single word she spoke twisted like a serrated blade in Yorath's chest.

His heart was shattering, pieces of it physically breaking off.

The agony was excruciating, like being gutted alive without anesthetic.

He began to tremble, his eyes entirely bloodshot.

He reached out, trying to wipe the tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea they dared to... I will make them pay."

But the more he wiped, the more her tears fell. He couldn't dry them fast enough.

Ottilie didn't even realize she was crying. She couldn't feel the tears on her own face.

All she felt was his clammy hand, touching her like something filthy.

A wave of pure revulsion crashed over her. She slapped his hand away violently. "Get off me! Don't touch me!"

He leaned down, trying to kiss her eyes, desperate to kiss away her tears and her suffering.

"Ottilie, I love you."

The words sounded grotesquely hollow to her.

"I don't love you. Get out."

Using all her core strength, she bucked hard, throwing him off her. She scrambled off the bed and bolted for the door. "I'm going to find Mr. Walden! He's a hundred times better than you! He actually cares about me!"

Yorath lunged after her, catching her by the entryway and slamming her back against the display cabinet.

"You're not leaving," he ordered harshly.

But Yorath stepped right into it, letting his chest collide with the lethal, jagged shard.

Because of their earlier struggle, his sleepwear hung open. The porcelain plunged deep into his flesh with zero resistance.

Ottilie froze.

Two seconds later, reality snapped back. She dropped the shard and stumbled backward.

She hit the heavy oak door, staring in pure horror at his chest.

Yorath clamped a hand over the wound, leaning heavily against the cabinet. "Don't be afraid," he murmured softly. "Call 911."

Ottilie didn't seem to hear him. She remained glued to the door, her eyes locked on him without blinking.

Yorath slowly slid down the cabinet until he hit the floor.

"Yorath..." she whispered. "Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't hurt," he replied, tears pooling in his eyes. "It's okay if you don't call 911. I owe you for the last three years. This life... is yours to take."