Escaping her husband from a remote village, she stumbled into a bear trap and thought it was the end, slipping into unconsciousness…
Waking in an unfamiliar room, Emily groaned softly. Her head spun as if shed been struck, her memory a blank voidshe couldnt recall how she got there. Every muscle ached, stiff from lying too long, refusing to obey. When she tried to sit up, horror struckher wrists and ankles were tightly bound. Panic surged, and she writhed on the bed, making the old frame creak.
“Finally awake,” a cold voice cut through the silence. “Dont worry. Youll stay a little longer. Once you understand your mistake, Ill let you go. Then well go home.”
In that moment, it all flooded back. Shed agreed with her husband, Oliver, to divorce. Hed said yesthen struck her. Hed never intended to let her leave. *Youre mine*, hed whispered. *If you dont see that, Ill make you*. But Emily couldnt endure his betrayals anymore. The first affair, she forgave. The second? No. Love had long died, leaving only fear and disgust for the twisted bond where obsession met loneliness.
“Let me go,” she whispered, trembling. “This changes nothing. You cant force me to love you. Olly, please…”
“Youll accept it. Right now, youre in denial, but youll see were meant to be. Give me another chance. And where will you run? Remember that abandoned village I told you about, where my grandparents lived? No one comes here. No one will help. And dont make me angryyou know what happens then.”
Emily shuddered. Madness flickered in Olivers eyesthat terrified her most.
A week and a halfmaybe longer?she spent in that house. Oliver freed her only for a few hours each day, watching her every move like a predator. She knew: he wasnt a man but a sick mind needing help. Yet she played along. Pretended submission, feigned hope for reconciliation, just to get back to civilisation. At work, no one would miss herher boss had wanted her gone ever since Emily caught her with Oliver. Her parents were long gone; friends shrugged off her disappearances. *Jealous husband*, theyd sigh, never asking further.
One day, when Olivers guard slipped, she struck him with a heavy figurine. He collapsed, unconscious but breathing. She had no time to check if hed wake. If he did, she was dead. Hed said theyd stay here forever, and she couldnt live with a man whose rage was a ticking bomb.
Grabbing whatever clothes she found, she fled into the biting cold. Frost seared her lungs, but she ran. Cars, roadsall miles away. She feared Oliver would track her footprints, but running was her only choice. The forest, the distant howl of wolvesterrifying, but better than being a madmans prisoner.
Her strength faded. She didnt know how long shed run or where. The thought of freezing or getting lost gnawed at her. Thensearing pain, a scream. Her leg caught in a bear trap. Blood stained the snow. She collapsed, tugging uselessly at the iron jaws. Agony swallowed her. Darkness crept in.
Thena voice:
“Dont give up now, love…”
She woke again somewhere strange. The air smelled of herbal teasomeone was tipping it between her lips as she drifted in and out.
“Where am I?” she croaked, pushing upright.
“Welcome back,” a voice said from the doorway.
A man stood therecalm, kind-eyed, in a knitted jumper and sturdy trousers.
“You saved me?”
“You saved yourself. Fought like hell. I just helped.”
He introduced himselfJames. Told her hed found her in the trap, carried her home, treated her wounds. Shed been delirious for days. The trap hadnt broken bone, but the gashes were deep. *You survived. Thats what matters.*
He lived in his grandfathers old foresters cottage. Came here to escape the city and clear poachers traps.
“Good thing I turned that bloke away,” he added. “A day after I brought you in. He was wildsearching for someone. Dont worry. If he comes back, he wont get near you.”
Emily trembled. Oliver had been close. But here, with James, she felt safe.
Days passed. She told him everythingthe marriage, the affairs, the escape. He listened quietly. Shed thought shed fear all men now, but with him, she felt calm. At ease. He didnt push, didnt blame. Just stayed.
Ten days later, she could walkthough with a limp. James went to check the woods, and she decided to cook dinnera small thanks for his kindness.
When he returned, he frowned.
“I told you to rest,” he said, brushing snow off his coat.
“Sorry… Wanted to help. Hate feeling useless.”
His expression softened.
“Alright. If you insist. Whats next?”
Over the meal, he shared something personal: two years ago, hed lost his fiancée in a crash. Every year, he came hereto this quiet placeto grieve alone.
“Im sorry,” Emily murmured. “But life goes on. Shed want you happy. After what Oliver did, I couldve feared all men. But youre not him. You cant hide forever.”
James nodded, and together they finished supperbangers and mash, a bottle of red. Then she asked: how did supplies get here? The place was remote, roads near-impassable. How would she even leave?
“My mate brings groceries every fortnight,” James said. “Stocks low now, roads are bad. Hell come tomorrowand youll go with him. Back to the city.”
Her chest tightened. Home. Where her pastand Oliverawaited. Filing for divorce, facing him in court. The thought chilled her. But with James, she felt shielded. Still, she knew: hiding wasnt the answer. She had to finish this.
“Dont fear,” James said, squeezing her hand. “Youll manage. That bastard wont touch you again.”
Emily smiled weakly. His confidence warmed her, but doubt lingered. And sadnesstheir time together was ending. It was right. But parting ached.
Next morning, Jamess friend, Thomas, arrivedeasygoing, with a warm grin. Emily fought tears. Staying here tempted her… but she couldnt start anew without closing the past. At the door, she hugged James tight, memorising his scent, his heartbeat. He hesitated, then held her backhis hands unsteady.
“Thank you… Ill miss you,” she whispered.
“Youll be fine,” he said, voice rough. But his eyes betrayed him.
In the car, she watched him in the rearview mirrorstanding on the porch, watching her go. She clenched her fists, fighting the urge to beg Thomas to stop. She wanted to confess she cared… but no. First, she had to end things.
Thomas took her straight to the police, as James asked. She filed a report, told her story. Then he drove her home. James had arranged for Thomas to bring supplies*until things settle*. She didnt ask who he was, just accepted the help gratefully.
Inside, Olivers presence haunted herhis things, his scent. She boxed it all, shoved it onto the balcony. Wanted him erased. That night, by the window, she thought of James. Regretted not taking his number. But hed said it himselfno signal in the woods.
Next day, a call: Oliver had been shot resisting arrest. Dead. She didnt cry. Didnt feel guilt. Just relief. Hed never hunt anyone again.
When Thomas returned, she told him.
“Good riddance,” he nodded. “Yesterday, he showed up here. But the lads James hired sent him packing.”
“Lads?”
“He had you guarded. Dont mourn him. Worlds better off.”
She swallowed hard. Then asked:
“Take me to James. Next time you gobring me.”
“Two weeks. Before New Years,” Thomas grinned. “Was wondering when youd ask.”
Her heart pulled her there, logic be damned. She skipped Olivers funeralhis mother had enabled him. No respect left.
For two weeks, she planned. Sold Olivers gifts, saved money. Started job-huntinga fresh start.
When the day came, Thomas picked her up.
“What if he says no?” he frowned. “Want me to wait nearby?”
“No,” she said. “He wont turn me away.”
She packed a duffel bag and a small giftsimple, heartfelt. Thomas dropped her off early, unloaded supplies, left discreetly.
Only then did she learn: James owned a major company in London; Thomas was his right-hand man. For a second, insecurity
