Grace Morgan's POV

I open my eyes to the gloomy morning sky, the clouds heavy with rain as a sense of melancholy washes over me. The sound of distant thunder rumbles in the distance, adding to the somber atmosphere. My cheeks were still wet with tears from the night before, a reminder of the emotional turmoil that had kept me awake. I felt the pain between my thighs as I ended up having an intercourse with Derek after all. He was forceful, and I had no choice.

The memory of his rough hands on my skin made me shudder. The feeling of violation is still fresh in my mind. I could still hear his harsh breathing in my ear and his words of manipulation and control ringing in my head. I tried to push the memories away and focus on the present moment, but the weight of what had happened lingered like a heavy cloud over my head.

I turn around to face Derek, who was sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of the turmoil he had caused me. He looked so innocent in his slumber, but I knew that the facade would soon fade once he woke up. I touched his hand gently, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me. The sense of betrayal and hurt still lingered, but a small glimmer of hope for a better future also began to emerge.

I need to get ready for my dancing recital. I slowly get up from my bed and start my morning routine, trying to push aside the negative thoughts and focus on the upcoming performance. As I stretch and warm up, I remind myself that dancing has always been my escape, my way of expressing emotions without words. Today, I will pour all of my feelings into every movement, letting the music guide me towards healing and peace.

I quickly brushed my teeth, took a shower, and changed into my attire. I tied my hair into a tight bun, took a deep breath, and visualized myself on stage. I stared at the clock and realized I needed to cook breakfast before Derek woke up, or he'd be in a bad mood.

As I hurried to the kitchen, my stomach growled in anticipation. I cracked eggs into a hot skillet, and the sound of them sizzling brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. Derek's alarm clock beeped, signaling that he would be awake soon. I scrambled to set the table, pouring a cup of coffee and placing a plate of steaming food in front of his usual seat.

Just as he stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and yawning, I smiled and said, "Good morning." Today I'll behave; I'll not give him any reason to be mad at me.

Derek's face lit up with a smile, and I knew that today was going to be a good day. I felt as though two arms wrapped around me in a warm embrace and left wet kisses on my cheek before sitting down to enjoy his breakfast. I was grateful for the peaceful start to the day.

I saw as he ate a piece of the scrambled egg, and his smile faded away. I realized that I had forgotten to add salt to the eggs, a mistake I promised myself I wouldn't make today. Derek's disappointment was evident.

"I'm sorry, I'll add it right now." As I quickly reached for the salt shaker, I accidentally knocked over my glass of orange juice, spilling it all over the table and on his shirt. Derek's expression turned cold as he looked down at his stained shirt. I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach, knowing that the peaceful morning had been disrupted by my clumsiness.

Feeling frustrated, I quickly apologized to Derek, "I'm so sorry, let me clean that up." I grabbed a cloth and began to wipe up the orange juice, but the damage had already been done.

I felt as he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me towards him, his eyes burning with anger. "You clumsy fool," he spat out, his grip tightening on my hair. I winced in pain but maintained eye contact, refusing to show fear.

With a deep breath, I mustered up the courage to speak calmly, "Let's resolve this peacefully, Derek." Derek's face softened slightly, but his grip on my hair did not ease. He stared at me for a few moments, contemplating my words. Finally, he released me, allowing me to stand up straight.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice filled with frustration. "But you're going to make it up to me." I nodded, relief flooding through me as I knew I had dodged a potentially dangerous situation. I quickly went inside and brought him a clean, pressed shirt from his closet, hoping to appease him and avoid any further conflict. Derek accepted the shirt with a nod, his expression still tense but no longer filled with the same level of anger as before.

I went back to the table to clean up the mess that I had caused earlier. Derek doesn't like dirty spaces, and I knew that keeping things tidy would help prevent any future outbursts. Out of nowhere, he grabbed me by my hand, and in a second, I was on the kitchen counter near the stove. He held me down by my head. I was frozen with fear, not knowing what to do.

"I'm sorry, I'll never do it again," I pleaded, hoping to diffuse the situation.

He slowly turned on the stove, his eyes filled with rage as he watched the flame ignite. I could feel the heat from the burner intensify as he leaned in closer to me, his grip tightening on my hand.

"Please, please stop," I begged, tears streaming down my face as the situation escalated.

The smell of burning flesh filled the air as he pressed my hand against the scorching hot stove. The pain was excruciating, and I screamed out in agony as Derek continued to hold me there, his expression cold and unyielding. In that moment, I realized just how dangerous and unpredictable he truly was.

"Now we are even," he whispered ominously before releasing my hand and walking away, leaving me trembling in shock and fear.

I sat on the floor, clutching my burned hand, trying to process what had just happened. The searing pain throbbed through my entire body, and I could feel the blistering skin on my palm. I was in shock, unable to comprehend how someone I once trusted could inflict such cruelty on me.

As I struggled to stand up, I saw Derek leaving for work, wearing the new shirt I gave him. The sight of him nonchalantly going about his day after what he had done left me feeling a mix of betrayal and disbelief. The betrayal cut deeper than the physical pain.

Before leaving, Derek glanced back at me with a cold expression and simply said, "Stop crying and get over it." The words echoed in my mind as he walked out the door, leaving me alone to deal with the aftermath of his actions.

With tears streaming down my face, I reached out to touch the bruised and burned hand that bore the marks of his cruelty. Gently cradling it in my uninjured hand, I whispered soothing words, trying to ignore the pain, both physical and emotional, that he had inflicted upon me. I applied an ice pack to reduce the burning sensation.

"Everything will be alright," I repeated to myself.

I stared at the clock and realized that it was time to get ready for my dance rehearsal. In an effort to distract myself from the pain and heartbreak, I decided to change into my dance attire. Swiftly shedding my stained clothes, I slipped on a comfortable leotard and tights. Ignoring the tears still clinging to my cheeks, I wiped off my makeup and started afresh, applying a fresh coat of mascara and lipstick to boost my confidence. As I stepped in front of the mirror, I noticed my burned hand, and to cover it, I wrapped it with a bandage before grabbing my dance shoes and heading out the door. The weather was sunny again so I didn't bother to carry an umbrella.

I walked towards the dance studio, the familiar streets and buildings blurring past me as I concentrated on reaching my destination. The rhythmic sound of my dance shoes clicking against the pavement echoed in my ears, providing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of my emotions. Despite the turmoil inside me, I knew that once I arrived at my dance class, the comforting routine would help me find peace.

Soon I arrived at the dance studio, its name emblazoned in bold letters across the front entrance. As I pushed open the heavy wooden door, the familiar scent of sweat and rosin enveloped me, instantly making me feel at home.

"Right on time, Grace," a warm voice greeted me as I stepped inside. Looking up, I saw my instructor, Ms. Brielle, standing tall with her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, accentuating her sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me. Dressed in a black leotard and tights, she exuded a sense of discipline and elegance that commanded respect from all her students.

I put down my things and quickly joined the other dancers, who were already stretching and warming up for class. Ms. Brielle came forward to me, and I saw as her eyes laid on my burned hand. She raised an eyebrow, and I felt a pang of guilt for not having mentioned it earlier.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice stern but not unkind. I explained how I had accidentally burned it while cooking the night before, and she nodded in understanding. "Make sure to take care of that; we don't need any injuries hindering your progress," she said before leading the class in a series of rigorous exercises.

Nobody would ever doubt that Derek could do something as cruel as hurting me. He was always portrayed as the perfect gentleman, but I knew the truth behind closed doors. Everyone told me how lucky I was to have him as a partner, but they didn't see the bruises he left behind. It was a secret I kept hidden, knowing that no one would believe me even if I spoke up. I had tried to leave him before, but he always found a way to manipulate me into staying. The fear of what he might do if I tried to break free kept me trapped in a cycle of abuse.

As the music played softly in the background, I found solace in expressing myself through dance. Each step I took was a silent rebellion against the control he had over me. With each graceful movement, I felt a sense of freedom that I rarely experienced in his presence. My body moved with purpose and determination. As I twirled and spun, I could feel the weight of his abuse lifting off my shoulders. In that moment, I was in control of my own moves.

Soon the class came to an end as Ms. Brielle thanked everyone for their hard work and dedication throughout the class. She encouraged us to continue practicing and to keep expressing ourselves through dance. As we gathered our belongings and prepared to leave, she reminded us of the upcoming recital, where we would have the chance to showcase our skills.

A sudden hand on my shoulder jolted me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see Amber smiling at me, her eyes filled with pride. "You're a natural," she said softly.

Amber is my best friend and biggest supporter. She was the only friend I had in this town. Although she knew nothing about my condition at home, she knew something wasn't right between me and Derek. Derek has already warned me about her. To keep Amber safe from him, I made sure to keep my distance from her whenever Derek was around.

"Come on, you are even better than me," I said, trying to distract her from the truth. Amber's smile widened, and she gave me a playful shove. "You're just saying that to make me feel better," she replied, not noticing the unease in my eyes.

"How can you be so careless? You hurt yourself again." I quickly brushed off her concern, making up an excuse about being clumsy. Despite the guilt gnawing at me, I knew it was the only way to protect her from the danger lurking in the shadows.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Amber asked, her eyes filled with genuine concern. I nodded, forcing a smile to reassure her before changing the subject to something lighter.

"Let's head to the coffee shop," I said.

"I heard there is a new coffee shop open; let's go there and try their specialty drinks." Amber smiled, relieved that I seemed okay and eager to explore the new coffee shop together.