Marriage Built On Lies And Manipulation

Chapter 4

I cried myself to sleep after praying. My chest still ached when I woke up the next morning. The sunlight pouring through the curtains felt too bright for the kind of pain I carried. I turned to the side of the bed, and as usual, Sebastian wasn’t there.

That’s when everything from last night hit me like a nightmare replaying itself. He had come to me, drunk and cold, and told me to take off my clothes. There was no affection in his eyes, no trace of the man who once swore to love me. He didn’t care about the tears streaming down my face, or the way I begged him to stop. He just forced himself on me—rough, careless, heartless. Each thrust was like punishment, like he was trying to erase something I didn’t even understand.

When he finally rolled off me, I curled into myself, shaking. My body hurt, but my heart hurt more. I didn’t even know when the sobs finally dragged me into sleep.

This morning, as I sat on the edge of the bed, my heart felt heavy. I wanted to scream, to run, to tell someone—but who would I tell? What would I say? *My husband forces himself on me?* People would only say, “He’s your husband, it’s his right.”

I took a deep breath, wiped my tears, and made a decision. I wouldn’t make breakfast for him today. Let him do his worst. I’m not his puppet. I’m not some fool who will keep quiet forever. I’ve kept silent because I don’t want to live the life my mother lived—always mocked, always pitied, always blamed for her husband’s cruelty. But now… now I’m done being quiet.

“I won’t let him ruin me,” I whispered to myself, standing in front of the mirror. My reflection looked back at me—a woman with swollen eyes, trembling lips, and pain buried beneath fake strength. I forced a small smile, powdered my face, and told myself, *You will survive this, Aria.*

I slipped into a simple office dress, grabbed my bag, and headed toward the door. Just as I reached for the handle, the door opened, and there he was—Sebastian.

I froze.

He was standing there, swaying slightly, smelling of alcohol and cigarette smoke. His shirt was half-buttoned, his hair messy. My stomach turned. The man who once swore he didn’t drink or smoke, who once told me he hated such things—was this really the same person?

My heart broke all over again.

I stepped aside, refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m late for work,” I said quietly, pushing past him.

He called after me, his voice rough. “Did you cook?”

I stopped, my jaw tightening. “Cook for yourself,” I said coldly, not looking back.

I walked out before he could reply, before my tears could fall again.

As I drove to work, my mind refused to rest. Every thought circled back to him—his sudden change, the lies, the cruelty. I thought about how we met.

It was during lunch at a small restaurant not far from Luxeview Media. I remembered sitting alone, pushing food around my plate, trying to recover from my first heartbreak. Then he appeared, charming and soft-spoken. He’d asked, “Can I sit here?”

Without looking up, I said, “Sure.”

He’d sat across from me silently for a few minutes, then said in a voice so calm it made me look up, “You look… peaceful. Beautiful, even when you’re trying not to be.”

That was the first time I looked into those eyes. I saw gentleness. I saw sincerity. I saw a future.

Now, I can’t even recognize the man behind those same eyes.

I sighed deeply, gripping the steering wheel tighter. My vision blurred with tears, and before I realized it, a horn blared behind me. I’d drifted into another lane. My heart raced as I steadied the car, breathing hard.

“Get it together, Aria,” I whispered to myself. “You can’t fall apart now.”

When I finally reached Luxeview Media, the familiar glass building felt like a safe haven. I straightened my shoulders and walked inside, forcing a smile for everyone who greeted me.

In the elevator, I ran into Tessa. She spotted me immediately.

“Aria!” she said, smiling from ear to ear. “You look pale, girl. Marriage isn’t supposed to make you look tired—it’s supposed to make you glow!”

I chuckled softly, trying to mask the ache in my chest. “I’m fine, Tessa. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Oh, please,” she teased, nudging me. “I know that look! Sebastian’s not letting you rest, right? He must be spoiling you too much. Don’t even deny it—I can tell from your face.”

I forced a laugh. “You’re impossible. Go and get married, then you’ll know.”

“Hmm, maybe I should,” she said, giggling. “But I’ll still pick your husband’s type—tall, fine, and rich. You’re lucky, Aria. I hope mine loves me like Sebastian loves you.”

Her words stabbed deep. *If only she knew.*

The elevator dinged open, and I escaped into my office with a weak smile.

Minutes later, my phone rang. It was Mr. Collins, my boss.

I straightened immediately and went to his office. Mr. Collins, in his mid-forties, was one of the kindest people I knew. He looked up with a bright smile the moment I walked in.

“Oh, our newly wedded bride!” he said warmly. “You really don’t know how to rest, do you? I’m still surprised you came to work this week.”

I smiled politely. “I just thought I’d rather stay busy, sir.”

He nodded in approval. “That’s what I admire about you, Aria. You’re one of the most hardworking staff in Luxeview Media. We’re lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, sir,” I said softly.

“Actually,” he said, pulling a folder from his desk, “I called you because one of your projects has caught attention abroad. Our partners in London and Singapore are impressed—they want to collaborate on it. You’ve made the company proud again.”

My eyes widened. “Really? Oh my God, that’s amazing!”

“Yes, it is,” he said, smiling. “And if everything goes smoothly, there’s a high chance of another promotion soon. The CEO might even want to meet you personally.”

I couldn’t help but smile, even though my heart still ached. “Thank you so much, sir. I’ll give it my best.”

“I know you will,” he said. “Now, get back to work, superstar.”

I laughed quietly and thanked him again before leaving.

Back in my office, I threw myself into work. It felt good to be useful again, to focus on something that didn’t involve pain. Hours passed quickly. I was halfway through my tasks when my phone began to ring.

The name on the screen made my stomach twist. *Sebastian.*

I stared at it for a few seconds, debating whether to answer. Finally, I picked up, my voice calm but cold. “What do you want?”

His voice came out soft, almost shaky. “Aria, please don’t hang up. I just wanted to check on you. Are you okay? Did you eat? I’m… I’m sorry about everything.”

I froze.

His tone was different—gentle, apologetic. I didn’t know whether to believe him or not.

He continued, “I know I’ve hurt you, and I don’t deserve forgiveness. But I want to make things right. I cooked lunch today. I just… I want us to start over, please.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My heart, foolish as ever, leaped at the sound of those words. Maybe this was it—the change I’d been praying for.

“Alright,” I said quietly. “I’ll see you later.”

After the call ended, I sat still for a long moment. A small, shaky smile curved on my lips. For the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope.

I checked the clock—it was almost 3:00. Just one more hour before closing. My heart started to race, not from fear this time, but from longing. Maybe tonight would be different. Maybe I’d walk into a home filled with peace instead of pain.

I turned back to my computer and worked faster, my heart whispering a prayer:

*God, please. Let this be real. Let him truly change.*

When the clock finally struck four, I began to pack my things, a small smile playing on my lips. For the first time since my wedding day, I was eager to go home.