For Me?

The Night

P.O.V Aila

The champagne on the table was iced well, held in a beautiful silver bucket, the pattern looked to be that of two horses rearing on their hind legs. I have a flute full and begin to sip at it. I've never had alcohol before and I can feel it travelling fast. A toast to myself and my so-called new life. My "Husband" Thomas excused himself an hour ago and I am grateful for the solitude, to process the day. The room I currently reside in is known as the honeymoon sweet. The four-poster bed looked rather imposing yet comfy with gorgeous white bedding with red trimmings, the oak was dark and gorgeous, almost warm looking. If I'm lucky, I'll pass out before any "Wifely" duties will be required of me. Wifely duties, would that even be required? Maybe he'll have a mistress like mother had said. After all, who would want someone who knew nothing? Who wasn't even worth their title as daughter, sister or even friend?

I scanned the room and all the furniture was of the same colour. It looks very expensive. It makes me think of my very tiny bedroom I had as mother's and how the space was only big enough for a single bed, bedside table and a wardrobe. Which was fine as I didn't own anything other than clothes, shoes and one solitary china doll my Grandmother gave me. An assortment of books were kept downstairs, which I often read over and over again to pass the days.

I began to think back to the hug Thomas's father gave me and I sighed. It was warm and it should have felt welcoming, but I felt so stiff and unsure, all I could do was muster to pat him on the back. I felt a little guilty at my response, but I had no idea what to do. Dare I hug him back? Would that be too much? Did I do too little? It must have seemed weird that I wanted to excuse myself rather quickly. I can never remember a time when I have been hugged or given someone a hug. I mean there must have been a time my mother would, I suppose, would have held me, but could that even be considered a hug?

Perhaps I should go and apologise to him? I feel like I have done him an injustice as his daughter-in-law. To be fair, what is expected of me? My mother didn't prepare me. In fact, she couldn't have washed her hands of me fast enough like I was an albatross around her neck. Maybe I had insulted him, he seemed very kind and warm and I would hate to start off on bad terms with a new family if I could help it. Since childhood I've hated the idea of upsetting others. But then again, I didn't have many people that I had contact with to upset, well besides mother. When reading my beloved books, all I ever learned was how families should have been and not what I had become accustomed to.

After finishing the glass, which had begun to make me feel a little warm and daring, I make my way to reception and ask for the number of the room he was staying in. I gingerly walked to the door pondering what I should say when I hear something smash and the raised voice of Thomas booming from the room.

"Is she damaged in some way?!"

Fear and curiosity leak into me, the shock had stood me off my feet and I stood there for a few seconds trying to come to terms with what I had just heard. I felt like a tree rooted to the spot. Damaged? What does he mean?? The hug? The fact I don't say much or keep to myself?

I hear another loud bang and I stumble backwards almost tripping as I turn on my heels and run as fast as I can on my high heels to the room where I had gotten ready for the wedding. There was no way I was going to the honeymoon sweet not in this state. I leaned against the closed door trying to compose myself. Damaged...Damaged. Damaged as in broken? Am I broken? Maybe its the alcohol that making me feel so weird, but that word Damaged keeps repeating itself.

I slide down the door trying to control my breathing, am I that much of an outcast that I don't even know what is expected of me... is that why I am damaged. Had my mother said something to him? They had hardly said anything to each other today. Or was it that she had warned him about me and how useless I am? That maybe he was worse off somehow?

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P.O.V Thomas

He was rather annoyed and he has no idea why. Was she purposely cold or was there a reason she seemed so inept at any form of social normalties? Now he was even more certain she flinched at him and the way she received his fathers hug made him wonder that bit more. Most people are shown these common graces, surely. And the way her mother didn't even smile or go to her "daughter" it all felt so strange.

"Son, stop pacing, you have a rather pretty wife. She will give me good grandchildren and be a pleasant woman to have around"

The old man was nuts, grinning like an i***t at his own fantasies. But how can I have children with a woman who seems to run from any form of contact? Will she be frigid that I have to look elsewhere and how would children even be a thing? Was she in need because she was an abused cast off or just so dumb that she had no idea what was expected of her? What kind of life is that shackled to a block of ice? The anger was bubbling along with the alcohol that I had consumed. Trying to take control of my own spiraling thoughts was becoming impossible. If I am to give up my own life, I deserve an answer!

"I want the truth, old man, now!"

I bite this out and it sounds harsh even to my own ears but I am very angry now as its rolling in my head,. and I deserve to know exactly what I'm getting involved in. Just because he felt I needed someone, that mother thought i needed someone didn't actually mean that I needed anything.

The shock on my fathers face is purely evident and it soon turns to bewilderment. He composes himself well and straightens his back to respond.

"I beg your pardon, young man!"

I literally hurl the glass of bourbon at the wall behind him, it shatters and the ice cube that had been in it bounces off and I damn near scream.

"Don't bullshit me! Is she Damaged in someway?!"

My father slams his hands on the desk and stands up, anger is etched on his face, all the lines on his face are clearly visible and his cheeks are flaming.

"Now listen here boy! You have no idea how lucky you are. That poor girl has not had it easy with that witch of a mother of hers, and I, for one, feel damned guilty about that, as did your mother. She is not damaged, but she may well not have had a good upbringing. The next time you throw your weight around me boy, you had best believe I'll heave you out! Son or no Son, you will behave!"

I sneered at him and turned my back to him and left. I just about noticed the glimpse of white material disappearing around the corridor. I narrow my eyes in suspicion for a second before I head to the honeymoon sweet and confront my "Wife". I have some burning questions that need answering. And she best have some good ones.

Walking there my legs feel like hollow trunks. May not have had a good upbringing. What does that mean? Her mum didn't love her or something? Weren't parents inherently programmed to love their offspring? Was she beaten? Did it even matter? This was arranged, he didnt't need to care, not really.

I opened the door to an empty room and an empty glass on the bedside table. But no wife. I checked the bathroom and nothing. Now I am even more annoyed as I have no idea.... the white fabric earlier. What was she doing down there?

Shaking my head, I loosen my tie and poured my own drink. I sat at the table in the middle of the large room. It felt too big. When that little lady comes back she would have to answer a few things.

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P.O.V Aila

After taking a few breaths and closing my eyes, I am able to bring myself under control. I am being silly. I should have asked or made my presence known. Why do I feel so inept at the smallest of things? Feeling so out of place wasn't uncommon but in this situation I felt so ill prepared.

Slowly standing up, I go to the mirror and remove the veil, my eyes seem damp yet no tears and my cheeks are slightly pink either from the alcohol or the shock either way its at least some colour. After a mini pep talk, I needed to go back to the room and start this marriage off right. Whatever right was it wasn't hiding in this room. I walked on numb legs to the room. I can't bare to meet the eyes that would soon be on me, so my eyes keep focused on the plush red carpet that is covering every single corridor. It's so rich and colourful it's almost hypnotic. The carpet is exceptionally soft under my feet, as if I'm walking on a cloud. I arrive at the door and count to the three before I turn the handle and walk in I stop short as I see Thomas glaring daggers at me as I walk in and I close the door behind me and turn to face him.

"Is something wrong?"

With that simple sentence he narrows his eyes at me and takes a sip of his glass. The liquid is light brown and you can smell it from here. It is rather strong and bitter smelling. but not nearly as bitter as the look I am receiving.

"So little wife, where, oh, where were you?"

The way he says this sends a shiver down my spine like an alarm to be wary. His cold grey eyes are like shards of ice right now.

"I went for a wonder. I haven't been to a hotel before and I just wanted to take in the surroundings, the colors are quite something"

Way to go chicken. You are now lying to your husband and you've only been married 2 hours. Way to go genius.

He coldly smirks, stands up and approaches me. I stand stoic and act as though his presence isn't making me want to flee the room that very instant. I have been in close proximity before, at the wedding, but I didn't take much notice, but he is well built, a good height that complements his shoulders. His very frame seems to fill the space very quickly and I struggle to keep my eyes on his.

"So, little wife, what are you thinking about?"

He almost sounded like he was toying with me and I gripped my hands behind my back and stood tall even though I didn't feel it at all. What was the right answer to this? Why did it feel like a test?

"It's been a long day, Husband, I think the best thing for both of us is an early night and a good rest, wouldn't you agree?"

Praying that I sound sincere and not at all afraid.

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P.O.V Thomas

He wanted to laugh out loud at her. She seemed so much smaller than her petite frame, but there was something about the way she said that, that made him want to circle her like a wolf would. He moved closer to her so that she was almost pressed to the door.

"Wife, it's our wedding night, do you not think it would be uneventful to just sleep?"

He smirked as she paled at that. Could it be that she found unattractive? or did she truly believe that this wasn't going to happen?

"Husband, I am fully aware of what is expected of me, but you have had something to drink, as have I and weddings I hear are taxing events, therefore I must urge that a good nights rest would do us better."

She put it so formally he smiled at it, he shook his head, turned away from her and would have walked away had he not heard that tiny sigh of relief that he quickly rounded on her and kissed her full on the mouth. He felt her hands grip the front of him in shock and as he leant into her she gasped and he snuck his tongue into her mouth. He felt her stiffen instantly and waited until she slightly loosened up before he hugged her a little with the kiss.

To him it felt like he was being greedy about this, she was actually his. Nothing had ever really been his before. It was rather intoxicating. That or the 2 bourbons and half the champagne bottle had really gotten to him. Either way, he needed to stop this before he did something they would both regret. If what his father insinuated is true, this simple act may cause a little bit of an uproar.