Page 2 of Unwell
‘It’s not tha—‘ Robert didn’t hear my protest. With another sharp jab of his hips, he pinned me tight, groaning in my ear as his muscles clenched.
Too late.
Again.
Sometimes I wondered if we’d have more success in getting pregnant if I got to enjoy it too. I bet Angela did.
We stood there for a moment, Robert half slumped over my back, breathing heavily while I bit back the burn of tears. As much as I loved my husband, most of the time, I wanted to slap him upside the head and beat some sense into him.
‘There you go, doll. Now you can go to work with my cum all up inside you. Who knows, you might be pregnant by sundown.’
He withdrew with a clearing of his throat and a spank on my ass, a gush of warmth seeping between my thighs. Heat flushed my cheeks as I stood, pulling my wet dress over my legs.
‘I’m going to change,’ I muttered, heading for the bedroom.
‘Well, hurry up. We’re running late as it is.’
My nails dug into my palm with little moon-shaped bites. The pain eased my desire to cuss Robert out.
Selfish prick.
Silence filled the car for the twenty minutes it took us to get to Wellard Asylum.
Despite the beating sun, a pervasive darkness settled over the car as we approached the crumbling building. Overgrown trees reached over the driveway, knotting their branches to blot out the sunlight.
Glancing at Robert, I noted the relaxed way he chewed a matchstick, bobbing his head to the steel guitar leaking from the radio. The mournful voice, lamenting all the ways his woman had troubled him. Would Robert go into work telling the other doctors about his morning conquest? I’d heard often enoughhow the doctors talk about women, and I was under no illusion working there would exclude me from their disgusting chat.
Heck, my being a staff member would make it more fun.
Wellard ran on money. Profit drove decisions, not the welfare of the poor souls in there.
I hated my job.
Despised it.
Every year I said it was my last. Longed for the day I could give it all up and never have to set foot inside its corrupt walls ever again.
Robert often parroted my sentiments, but he always lacked conviction in his words. I tried not to focus on that too much. If I allowed myself to fall down that rabbit hole; I feared never being able to escape the truths I uncovered. What if my husband descended into the horrendous acts the other doctors at Wellard enjoyed?
No.
He wasn’t like them.
We met as baby-faced teens, and he’d always wanted to help people. The kind of man who’d stop the car to escort an old lady across the street. Though he hadn’t done anything like that for a while. One of the good guys. We were working at Wellard out of necessity only.
The heavy metal gate swung open as we approached, squealing with reluctance. Like it wanted to keep us trapped with the inmates.
Uneasiness settled deep in my bones, weighing me down with a thousand tiny, disturbing anchors.
No wonder I couldn’t grow a baby. Working there instilled a pervasive rot that destroyed from within.
A hostile environment.
A hostile womb.
TWO
GINNY
