Finally married - part 18-23

Part 12-17: https://www.patreon.com/posts/finally-married-110568736

Collection: https://www.patreon.com/collection/715538

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Part 18

"I wish..." My voice broke, and I could barely breathe from the overwhelming emotions, gripping the statuette so tightly that my knuckles turned white. My mind was blank, as if everything had vanished at that moment, leaving only one thing: the terrible thought that had suddenly surfaced. "I... just wish to be happy."

Heat spread through my body, as if someone had poured hot water over me. I screamed, but my voice faded into a weak moan as the statuette suddenly began pulling me down, swallowing my last thoughts, dragging me into a whirlpool of calm. And then, everything abruptly stopped.

When I opened my eyes again, the world around me seemed blurry and strangely light. My mind floated, as if I had been dipped into cotton candy, and everything seemed funny, even ridiculous. I was standing in the middle of a cozy living room, furnished in soft pastel tones. Family photos hung on the walls, and in all of them was me... and children! Two little kids, smiling sweetly at the camera.

"Oh, how adorable!" I didn’t even notice how my voice had become high and cheerful, and I started laughing, as if someone had told me the funniest joke ever. But at the same time, deep inside, a flicker of fear stirred. 'What’s wrong with me?'—the thought broke through the fog in my mind but disappeared as quickly as it came.

My gaze fell on my rounded belly. I touched it with my hand, feeling soft kicks from within. 'I'm pregnant... how could I forget that?' But instead of panic or fear, I laughed again.

"I'm having another baby!" My voice rang out like that of a silly girl, and laughter erupted once more, filling the room. Inside, something twisted painfully. 'This isn't right... this isn’t me...' But the laughter continued, as if my body refused to obey my mind.

I absentmindedly ran my hand over my swollen belly, feeling the gentle movements inside. A new life was growing within me. But instead of pride or awe, I felt only cold fear, chilling me to the bone. 'How could this have happened?'

Just then, the two children burst into the kitchen. Instinctively, I turned my head, smiling, as if this were the most normal scene, as if I had known them all my life. But as soon as they ran up to me, I felt it again—that something was wrong, and I knew exactly what it was. 'I’m a mom? And pregnant? This is a nightmare!' But... why doesn’t that scare me as much as it should? 'Why do I feel happy to see them?'

"Mommy, look what we found!" the boy exclaimed, holding a toy truck in his hands.

"Oh, what a clever boy you are!" I responded, almost as if on autopilot, and laughed again. "You two are so sweet!"

I wanted to hug them, to hold them close, all while knowing that this was wrong and... 'Why has everything become so confusing?' I smoothed their hair and gently patted their heads, my smile unwavering. Inside, something squeezed my heart, and for a moment, I thought I might start crying. But instead, another wave of silly laughter rose in my throat, and I couldn’t stop it.

Part 19

"Mommy!" the children shouted, filling the kitchen with their joyful laughter, their little feet pattering across the wooden floor. The boy with the toy truck jumped around me, while the girl tugged on my hand, showing me some drawing. I knelt down instinctively, patting their heads and pretending to admire their discoveries.

Everything felt like a sweet dream, but every touch, every word that came from my lips felt foreign. I was supposed to be Jerry. A man. But instead, I could feel the weight of my pregnant belly gently pressing against my thighs as I stood back up, the sensation grounding me even more in this strange reality. The baby inside me moved, reminding me of its presence with every kick. Deep inside, something twisted, stirring a wave of terror, but it quickly faded, swallowed by the silly, unstoppable laughter that fought to escape.

"Oh, my sweethearts, how I love you," I blurted out. My voice rang unnaturally bright, so much so that I barely recognized it myself. 'Why am I talking like this? Why do I feel this way?'

I wrapped my hands around my belly, trying to regain control, but instead of fear, I felt warmth again, as if being a mother was my only true purpose in life. Something inside whispered: 'You're happy. This is real happiness, the one you've been searching for. You're the perfect mother. The perfect wife.' I shook my head, desperately trying to silence that voice.

"Mama, look, I drew you and Daddy!" The little girl shoved a piece of paper into my hands. I looked at the childish scribble: two smiling stick figures with hearts floating above their heads.

"Oh, how sweet, darling!" I laughed. 'What nonsense! That’s not me!' But… at the same time… my heart clenched with affection. Laughter spilled out again.

At that moment, he entered the kitchen—a tall, strong man, no longer Sarah but Samuel, my husband. His masculine form seemed oddly familiar and yet… so foreign. He glanced at us and stepped closer, holding a cup of coffee as if all of this were perfectly normal.

"What’s going on here?" he asked with a smirk, approaching me and wrapping his arm around my waist. His hand slid over my rounded belly, and I flinched involuntarily. I would have pushed him away before, but now… my body responded to his touch on its own. I felt a flutter inside. It felt good. Too good.

Part 20

"Everything’s fine, dear," I smiled, feeling warmth spread through my body from his embrace. But it wasn’t just warmth—there was something else, an odd lightness that made my body tingle as if I was floating in a warm, blissful fog. "We’re just playing with the kids."

He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, whispering softly in my ear, "You’re such a good wife."

I wanted to push him away. To tell him that this was all a mistake, that I wasn’t a wife, that I didn’t belong here, but… instead, I felt my legs start to tremble at his words. The phrase "good wife" resonated with something far too pleasant inside me. Something melted deep within. I wanted… more. I wanted to hear it again. Words that once would’ve felt like an insult now filled my soul with a warm light. And I laughed, like a silly girl.

"Thank you, darling," I whispered, tears welling up in my eyes. ‘Why am I crying? This isn’t me. I’m not like this. I’m Jerry, for God’s sake!’

"Let me take care of it, sweetheart. Go rest—you need to take care of yourself and the baby," his voice was so confident, so manly, that I couldn’t help but obey. He guided me to the couch and gently helped me sit down. I sank into the cushions, feeling a strange mix of exhaustion and contentment as my belly pressed against my thighs. It was heavy, unfamiliar, but oddly comforting—like I belonged here, waiting to be cared for.

I sat there, feeling the pulse throbbing in my temples. I ran my hand over my belly, staring at this family world that seemed to be closing in around me. My mind was a mess. 'You wanted to be happy, didn’t you? Isn’t this what you wished for?' The inner voice grew louder, drowning out my panic. 'Don’t you want to hear your husband’s praise?'

"I… I can’t..." I whispered, feeling a lump rise in my throat. I no longer knew what was real and what wasn’t. But one thought was clear as day: I needed to go back to that store and end this. I couldn’t keep living in this foggy version of happiness where I was losing myself… Or could I? No, no, no! Get these thoughts out of your head!

"Sam, darling... I need to step out for a minute," I said, trying to regain control of my voice.

"Why?" he asked, looking at me with mild surprise.

"I just… need to buy something."

"Alright, dear, don’t be long," his voice was so caring, and in that moment, he looked at me with a mix of desire and admiration.

I got up from the couch and quickly made my way to the door. My legs were shaking, and each step echoed heavily in my high heels. I was wearing a tight pink dress, accentuating my belly, and the heels that I hadn’t even noticed until now, suddenly felt so natural to me.

Part 21

As soon as I stepped outside, the cold Italian wind brushed against my face, momentarily making me forget everything that had just happened inside. The echo of my heels tapping on the cobblestone streets matched the quick pace of my steps, while the tight pink dress hugging my rounded belly refused to let me forget who I had become. I hurried down the street, as if something was pushing me forward, away from that cozy but so painfully false life. But with each step, I couldn’t help but notice the rhythmic sway of my belly, how my hands instinctively rested on it. It felt… natural. So wrong, yet natural.

But with each step I took, something inside my mind started to shift. 'Why are you even leaving? You’re happy. You just baked cookies for your loving husband, you’re taking care of your children, expecting another baby. Isn’t this what so many people dream of? Why are you resisting what brings happiness?'

I slowed down. Inside me, a battle raged—one half of my being desperately clung to the memory of who I used to be, a man, free and confident. But the other half—the one living as Jerilyn—craved peace and comfort in the role of a perfect wife and mother.

I stopped at a street corner, my eyes catching the display of a women’s clothing store. The dresses on the mannequins seemed so… familiar. A pink one, just like mine, clung a mannequin, and for a moment, I felt a sense of pride. It looked good on me. No! What am I thinking? And in that very moment, a familiar voice echoed in my head: 'You look good, Jerilyn. That dress perfectly shows off your belly. You’re so beautiful…' The words, sweet and soothing like honey, wrapped me in warmth and an odd sense of calm. Everything inside me began to soften, and a smile crept across my lips. 'Why should I leave? What if this is my happiness?'

"Hey, beautiful, aren’t you cold?" a deep voice suddenly called out from behind me. I turned around to see a man in his forties, tall, with long dark hair and a mysterious look in his eyes. He seemed like someone who knew more than he let on.

"Um... no, thanks," I replied nervously, forcing a smile and stepping back. But the man didn’t move away; instead, he stepped closer. His gaze was intense, as if he could see right through me.

Part 22

The man stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a mysterious light, as if he knew everything that was happening inside me—and even more. His gaze seemed to penetrate the depths of my soul, and I could feel each of my thoughts, every secret, laid bare before him.

"You feel it, don’t you?" His voice was deep but gentle, as if he were speaking to a close friend. "You feel that your life is changing, but you find it hard to admit that this is exactly what you’ve always wanted." His words slid over me like silk, smooth and comforting, but I shivered, fighting against the warmth they stirred in my chest. It wasn’t supposed to feel this good.

"Something I... wanted?" I repeated his words, confused by my own thoughts. What did he mean? I didn’t want to become this... become Jerilyn, a silly housewife who laughs at the most ridiculous things and feels happiness only when pleasing her husband. "Who... who are you? What do you want from me?"

"Who am I?" The man smiled enigmatically, his eyes flashing, as if he was enjoying what was happening in my head. "I’m just a messenger. But don’t worry, Jerilyn. You’re already on the right path."

"The right path?" I stepped back, trying to make sense of his words. "What are you talking about? I just want to figure out how to get everything back... how to be myself!" The last words came out too sharply, but even I could feel that something inside me was resisting those words. Did I really want to go back to who I was? And what did that even mean? I’m here now, and this is me, isn’t it?

The man smiled and pulled a small card from his pocket, extending it to me. I took it, glancing at the text: “The Cult of the Statue.” My hands began to tremble, but deep inside, something stirred, as if this card was a key to the answers I’d been seeking.

"What is this?" My voice shook, but I tried to smile, as if all of this was just some kind of joke. "What do you mean by 'cult'? Sounds like I’ve been invited to join a cat fan club."

I giggled, like a silly schoolgirl, and covered my mouth with my hand, feeling my cheeks flush with warmth. My laugh was light and bubbly, completely out of place for who I was—or who I used to be. But it spilled out, uncontrollable, like everything else in this new life.

The man stepped closer again, his voice lowering to almost a whisper: "It’s not a fan club, Jerilyn. It’s the path to your full awakening. You already feel how the statuette has changed you, don’t you? You laugh, you’re happy when you please your husband… You find joy in simple things, like the cookies you baked today. This isn’t just coincidence. The statue chose you."

Part 23

"I... can't..." I started to protest, feeling a strange, yet pleasant tingling from his words. My chest seemed to melt, warmth spreading through me. "I don’t want to be like this!"

"You already are," the man stepped so close that his warm breath brushed against my cheek. I felt a shiver run down my spine, not from fear, but from the way his words stirred something warm and soft inside me, something I didn’t want to admit was there. "Accept it. You feel it, don’t you? Every time your husband praises you, everything inside you blossoms, doesn’t it?"

"Um…" My cheeks burned even hotter, and I nervously laughed. "I’m not sure… maybe you’re right… but… it’s strange, isn’t it?"

The man smirked, his gaze becoming even more intense.

"Strange? You have no idea what’s ahead. To become the perfect wife, the perfect mother, devoted and fulfilled in the role you were meant for. And when your husband calls you his 'good girl'... you’ll feel something far beyond mere happiness."

Those words struck me like a thunderclap, and I instinctively took a step back, my knees weakening beneath me. "Good girl"—that’s what Sam sometimes called me, and each time, it made me melt. I hated it. No, I should have hated it. But each time, my body reacted before I could stop it, a wave of warmth rushing through me, turning my knees weak. Even the thought of it now sent a wave of excitement through me.

"I..." I started to speak but ended up laughing again. "Oh my God! This is just nonsense, right?"

A wide smile spread across my face, despite the fear gnawing at me inside. What’s happening to me? Why does this seem so appealing?

The man, as if reading my thoughts, leaned in closer and whispered in my ear, "When you’re ready, Jerilyn, just come."

I swallowed hard, my hands still gripping the business card. He stepped back, watching me with that enigmatic smile.

"And by the way," he added, turning to leave, "your heels look exquisite today. I’m sure Samuel will appreciate it if you wear them again tonight."

My cheeks flushed instantly with embarrassment. I glanced down at my high heels and nervously giggled, feeling a chaotic mix of fear, desire, and an odd sense of joy from his words swirling inside me.

When the man left, I stood frozen for several minutes, unable to move. Why are my thoughts like this? Why does thinking about Samuel bring this sweet feeling of peace and submission?

I glanced down at the card in my hand and then on my belly.

I knew I should be heading back to the store, but… why should I do this?