Marriage Built On Lies And Manipulation

Chapter 2

Aria’s POV*

The morning light felt too bright for someone who just got married a day ago. My body ached from the night before, but what hurt more was knowing that the man sleeping beside me wasn’t the same man who had promised to love me forever.

It was Monday morning, and my heart felt heavier than my body. I dragged myself out of bed and knelt down to pray, whispering, “God, please help me.” When I opened my eyes, I noticed the bed was empty. Sebastian wasn’t in the room.

As I finished praying, flashes of last night flooded my mind — how he had changed so suddenly, how his voice turned cold, and how his palm had met my face on our wedding night. The day that was supposed to be my happiest turned into something I still couldn’t believe happened.

Tears threatened to fall, but I swallowed them. I begged God not to let my marriage crumble. I didn’t want to end up like my parents, broken and bitter. I wanted my marriage to work — but deep inside, fear was slowly replacing my hope.

I glanced at the time and realized we were supposed to be on our honeymoon right now. Instead of feeling excited, I felt hollow — like something had died inside me.

“I can’t keep crying over a man who doesn’t even see my tears,” I whispered to myself.

I went into the bathroom to take a shower. The warm water running down my body didn’t wash away the pain. But I made up my mind right there — I wasn’t going to sit around pitying myself. I would go to work instead of staying home. I’d pretend nothing happened. I’d wear my strongest face, even if my heart was bleeding.

When I finished dressing — a simple cream shirt tucked into black trousers — I served breakfast quietly. Just then, the door creaked open. Sebastian walked in, looking tired and casual, his shirt rumpled.

My chest tightened, but I dared not ask where he had been. His eyes were sharp, cold — like he could strangle me just for asking.

“Good morning,” I greeted softly, forcing a smile. “How was your night?”

He didn’t respond. He just sat down, flipping through his phone like I wasn’t there.

I pretended not to notice and dished out his food. “Are you ready to eat now, or should I leave it for you? I’m heading to work soon.”

That got his attention. His head jerked up. “Work? You just got married, Aria. Can’t you stay home for a week at least?”

His tone was irritated, not caring.

I looked at him calmly. “Stay home and do what? Talk to the walls? You weren’t even here last night, Sebastian. Besides, since we’re not traveling anymore, I might as well go to work.”

He scoffed. “Whatever.” Then he picked up his spoon and started eating.

I stared at him quietly, wondering if he would apologize. I wanted him to at least acknowledge the pain he caused me. But he didn’t. He ate like nothing had happened.

When we were done, I packed the plates into the kitchen. I expected him to help, or at least say something sweet like before. But he didn’t even glance at me. My throat tightened as tears welled up.

“What did I ever do to deserve this?” I whispered to myself.

I thought about the man I fell in love with — the one who made me laugh during lunch breaks, who opened doors for me, who sent flowers for no reason. Now he was acting like a stranger sharing my roof.

I took my bag and headed for the door. “I’ll see you later,” I said quietly.

But before I could open it, his voice stopped me.

“The foodstuffs in this house won’t last the week. Branch the market on your way back and buy more.”

I turned slightly. “Okay,” I said. I waited for him to send money, but he didn’t. He just kept watching TV like I didn’t exist.

“You haven’t sent the money, babe,” I said softly.

His head snapped toward me. “Are you mad? What kind of woman are you? You’re asking me for money for foodstuffs? How much is it that you can’t buy it from your pocket? What are you even working for?”

His words stung. My lips trembled, but I forced a smile. “I’m sorry, babe. You don’t have to be angry. I’ll buy everything myself. Please don’t be upset.”

He grunted something under his breath and turned back to the TV. I stood there for a second, looking at him — this man who once swore he couldn’t live without me — and all I saw was someone I barely knew.

I stepped out quietly and walked toward my car.

On my way to the office, my mind wouldn’t stop racing. *How did I end up with this man?* This was a red flag — a big, waving one. But I couldn’t see it before. During courtship, he was perfect — thoughtful, charming, and sweet. Every girl at work envied me. But now… now he was different.

“Oh God,” I whispered, “please touch his heart. Please don’t let this marriage crumble.”

I didn’t want a broken home. I didn’t want to be pitied or gossiped about.

When I reached **Luxeview Media*, my colleagues were surprised to see me. I plastered a bright smile on my face.

“Aria! You’re back already? I thought you’d be on your honeymoon!” one of them said.

I laughed softly. “I just couldn’t leave work hanging. You know me — workaholic to the bone.”

They laughed and nodded, buying the lie easily.

“My husband didn’t want me to come at first,” I added, forcing a small blush. “But after I convinced him, he let me go. For the sake of love, you know.”

“Awwn! That’s so sweet!” someone said, and I smiled, pretending it was.

When I got to my office, I sank into my chair and sighed deeply. The silence made my heart ache again.

A few minutes later, my colleague and closest friend, **Tessa**, walked in holding a cup of coffee. “Look at you glowing, Mrs. Hale,” she teased. “So, how was the wedding night?”

I froze.

Tessa sat opposite me, grinning. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now. Let me guess — he wore you out. You even have little blushes on your cheek.”

My breath caught. She reached out to touch my face gently. “Wait… what’s this? Aria, your cheek looks red. Did something happen?”

I quickly turned away. “It’s nothing,” I said, forcing a smile. “Maybe just makeup irritation.”

She frowned. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “Positive.”

She looked at me for a long moment, then smiled again. “You’re acting strange, but okay. Anyway, there’s a meeting with Mr. Collins in twenty minutes. He said it’s about the new documentary — the one on women surviving abuse.”

My heart skipped a beat. *Women surviving abuse.*

Tessa stood and headed for the door. “Come on, newlywed. Don’t keep the boss waiting.”

I stared at my reflection on the dark laptop screen — my face, the faint mark on my cheek, the pain behind my smile.

Maybe it was fate that the project we were working on was about women like me. Women who smiled in public but cried in silence.

And for the first time, I wondered if God was trying to tell me something.