The days were getting longer. Molly was staying awake more and more each day. Molly had finally gotten to where she could wiggle her toes. Even though she was healing enough to almost move on her own, the thought of being healed enough to start the torture over again wasn’t exactly giving her much in the way of peace. She had started noticing how long he was going to be gone each day. She was begging to hatch a plan to get loose.
She knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Her plan was to try and wiggle free from her shackles. Then she was going to have to get some sort of sharp object in her hands. She wasn’t going to be able to get completely free so her plan was to stab him during his nightly visit where he had his way with her.
Molly couldn’t turn her head enough get a good look around the room. She knew there had to be something she could get her hands on. Molly knew it wasn’t going to be easy. She knew that if she was going to survive this she needed to get at least one of her hands free. She knew she only had a few days more go to. She was starting to get movement back in her legs. She could bend her knees. Her wounds were sealing up. It was only a matter of time before she was healed enough to start the final process of finishing her off. Drake explained to her how her body wouldn’t be able to recover the next time. She knew her days were numbered. At her current rate of recovery she anticipated she would have no more than two weeks left before it was over.
Despite everything she had been through, Molly was not going to give up so easily. She was determined to fight for her life. Even if her chances of survival were slim she was going to fight for her life. Deep down she was a fighter. Molly knew no matter what happened she had to survive. If not for herself, to save her daughter. She knew it was now up to her to get out of this, alive for her kid.
Molly spent all of her days laying in that bed in her blood, sweat, and piss trying to figure out what the hell she had done to deserve this. Sure she was a nagging wife but this went beyond that. Molly kept trying to figure out how these two men ended up blaming her for all of their messed up lives. Everything that had gone in the world was somehow her fault. She couldn’t stand it.
While she could agree she never truly loved George, in her mind she knew he never loved her either. Their marriage was arranged. Not in the old-fashioned sense but they really had no practical say in how their lives turned out. Molly remembered the night George took her to the fair. Even though she wasn’t falling in love with him, she still felt romance. In her mind it was enough. It was all they needed.
Her mother used to tell her not to confuse romance for love. She said a woman needed romance to get her motor running, but she could live a whole life without what people called true love. Her mother explained to Molly how she never loved her father but they stayed married. She said it was what you did. Molly accepted that. But not George.
He had this misplaced sense of true love he felt belonged to that girl, Ashley Taylor. And that was what she could never get her ex-husband to understand, he had a romanticized memory of a girl he knew ages ago, not sense of the woman Stephanie became. Molly didn’t know how deep his feelings for that other woman ran. Not until long after he helped Drake kidnap her.
Molly remembered the day vividly like it was yesterday. She replayed the events in her mind over, and over every day she was conscious. Even when she was a sleep she dreamt the same events. It was all she thought about.