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Undergraduate @ Redeemers university
My Husband Always Gave Me Red Tea Every Night — Until I Found Out It Wasn’t Tea.
<p>Episode 3</p><p><br/></p><p>Should I drink it, just this once, like he said?</p><p>But if it’s safe… why has he never drunk it himself?</p><p>Why does he go out first, then hide to make the tea?</p><p><br/></p><p>I took a deep breath, shook my head, and whispered,</p><p>“I can’t. I can’t drink it.”</p><p><br/></p><p>His eyes trembled. “Please,” he said softly. “You’ve known me for years. I took care of you even before we got married. Do I look like someone who could hurt you?”</p><p><br/></p><p>“Then why are you insisting I drink it? Why?” I snapped.</p><p>“What’s so special about it? Drink it yourself, maybe then I’ll drink too.”</p><p><br/></p><p>Then suddenly, his tone changed.</p><p>The man who was calm, soft, and pleading seconds ago… changed completely.</p><p>He raised his voice, sharp, furious.</p><p>“Oh, because I’m begging you? Who do you think you are? You must drink it!”</p><p><br/></p><p>For the first time, I saw real anger in his eyes.</p><p>I leaned back a little. “So now it’s a must?”</p><p><br/></p><p>“Yes!” he barked. “Take this and drink now! Don’t waste my time!”</p><p><br/></p><p>I shook my head slowly. “Then I’m leaving this house. Right now.”</p><p><br/></p><p>He laughed, a cold, wicked laugh.</p><p>“Leave? And go where? Orphan like you, no family, no home. I made you who you are. Marrying you was a favor. You’ll do what I say, when I say it.”</p><p><br/></p><p>His words cut deep. I was speechless.</p><p>I opened my mouth, but no words came out.</p><p>The pain of remembering my parents… the loneliness… the struggle growing up… it broke me.</p><p><br/></p><p>Tears rolled down my face.</p><p><br/></p><p>I looked up at him and said, trembling,</p><p>“Yes, I’m an orphan. Call me whatever you want. But if man fails me, God never will.”</p><p><br/></p><p>He stared, but before he could speak, a knock came at the door.</p><p><br/></p><p>The room went silent.</p><p>He froze, eyes wide with fear.</p><p>His hand trembled, and the tea spilled thick, dark, dripping slowly down the cup.</p><p><br/></p><p>I saw it. My stomach turned.</p><p>Was this really what I’d been drinking all along?</p><p><br/></p><p>The knock came again, softer this time.</p><p>I steadied my voice. “Yes, hold on, I’m coming.”</p><p><br/></p><p>I moved toward the door.</p><p><br/></p><p>He shouted, “No! Don’t open it!”</p><p><br/></p><p>The knock came once more, slow, deliberate… almost careful.</p><p><br/></p><p>Panic filled his face.</p><p><br/></p><p>“I said don’t open the door!” he yelled.</p><p><br/></p><p>But I didn’t care anymore.</p><p>I reached for the handle.</p><p><br/></p><p>To be continued..</p>
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