With a rip, Alexisâ dress was torn off and tossed aside.
Leonel, looking smug, ki*sed her aggressively.
âNo matter what you threaten, youâre not getting away.
â
With that, he forced himself on her.
Late into the night, the room felt colder, the light harsher.
In that lavish bedroom, Alexis endured Leonelâs assault, his relentless pounding leaving her trembling.
In this way, he kept torturing her and was unwilling to stop for a long time.
It wasnât until 4 a.
m.
that the torment finally ceased.
Exhausted, Leonel collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily.
After a long silence, he turned to Alexis, wanting to speak.
Bruises marred Alexisâ wrists and body.
She avoided Leonelâs gaze, pulling the quilt tightly around herself.
Talking or showering felt like too much effort.
She wished Leonel would just vanish.
Leonel, wide awake after their intense encounter, reached for Alexis, burying his face in her neck.
He felt wetness.
Was she crying?
In a hoarse voice, he murmured, âIâm sorry, Alexis.
â
Alexis gave no response, turning away.
Watching her, Leonel pondered.
Finally, he sat up, silent, and lit a cigarette.
After a drag, he spoke with difficulty.
âPlease, donât go to the cemetery tomorrow.
â
Alexis remained silent, her eyes closed.
Leonel had crossed a line that night, destroying what remained of their marriage.
Heâd forced himself on her before, but never like this.
Heâd r@ped her.
The next morning, Leonel woke feeling drained.
Last nightâs indulgence, mixed with alcohol and passion, had left him exhausted.
The bed was empty; Alexis mustâve risen early, leaving it cold and hard.