My husband
1032 Words
MIA POV
It was around midnight when the Uber pulled up in front of the mansion. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. What if he knew what I had done? God. As much as I was scared of what my husband would do if he found out I cheated on him, my stupid mind wouldn't stop straying to that hockey boy who took me like never before.
I pulled my gown down, took out a wipe from my bag, and tried wiping the c*m off my chest once more. I had cleaned it thoroughly in the bathroom earlier, but still, I couldn't risk giving it away.
I crept up the driveway, my keys already in my hand. The house was dark except for the porch light Charlie insisted on leaving on every night. He said it was for safety. I always thought it was so he could see me coming home.
The key turned silently in the lock. I pushed the door open, stepped inside, and held my breath.
Everywhere was quiet. Thank God. He was asleep. My husband tended to sleep early.
I let out a slow exhale and started toward the stairs.
"You look tense, wife."
I froze as my husband's voice boomed at my back. He wasn't asleep, he was waiting for me.
I turned slowly.
Charlie sat in his leather chair by the window. His glasses reflected the porch light. His walking stick rested against his thigh like a weapon.
"I didn't see you there," I said. My voice cracked on the last word.
"No." He stood up. The stick clacked against the floor with each step. "You never do."
He reached me in six steps. His hand found my waist. Squeezed. Hard.
"Where have you been?"
I hated his touch. Hated the way his fingers felt like spiders crawling on my skin. Hated the way he pulled me close like I belonged to him.
You do. Duh.
"I was just grabbing drinks with Chloe." I tried to sound confident, hoping he wouldn't hear the nervousness in my voice.
"Drinks." He tilted his head. "You didn't tell me you were going out."
"You were on your trip. I didn't think you'd—"
"Care?" He finished my sentence. His grip tightened. His body pressed against mine, and I felt him hard against my hip. "I always care, Mia. You're my wife. You belong to me. Everything you do. Everywhere you go. I own it. I own you."
I wanted to throw up.
"I'm sorry, but you're the one who said I could go out. You said you wouldn't cage me as long as I obey you, right?" I shifted away from him slightly.
He stared at me for a long moment. Then he smiled. "Apology accepted. Anything for my beautiful wife.”
He let me go.
I almost collapsed from relief.
"I'm going to go wash up—"
His hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.
His eyes were on my ring finger.
Empty.
"Where." His voice dropped to something dangerous. Low and quiet. The kind of quiet that comes before an explosion. "Is your ring?"
My mind went blank.
The bathroom floor. Three towns away. Next to a pile of cash and a boy who f****d like a god.
"Oh my god. I didn't even know it was gone." I stared at my empty ring finger, faking surprise.
I thought my acting would pay off, I was wrong.
"You don't know." He moved fast for a man with a stick. His hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking me back hard, and the pain ripped through my scalp so sharp my vision blurred.
I gasped. He pulled my face inches from his. His breath smelled like whiskey and rot. "You come home at midnight smelling like alcohol, without your ring. And you don't know?"
"Please, Charlie, I wasn't—"
"Were you f*****g someone?"
"No!"
"Were you spreading your legs for some bastard while I was gone?"
"No, I swear, I would never—"
He hit me with the stick.
My abdomen exploded with pain. I doubled over, gasping.
He hit me again. And again. And again.
I lost count. I lost track of where I was. All I knew was the pain.
"Stop!" I shrieked. "Please, stop!"
He stopped and stepped back. His chest rose and fell steadily like he’d done nothing more taxing than stand up from a chair.
He smiled crookedly, like seeing me in pain gave him joy.
"You promised," I sobbed, clutching my stomach. Tears poured down my face. "You promised you would never hit me again."
He smiled.
"Nothing a Birkin won't fix, right?"
I Couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. All I could do was kneel on the cold marble floor and pray he was done for today.
"I don't want a Birkin." The words came out before I could stop them.
His smile disappeared.
"No?" He crouched down in front of me.
Grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.
"It won't?" His voice turned cold. "I'm sure removing your mother's life support will do the trick." There was the threat again. He smiled. "Right?"
He knew he had me.
I straightened up a bit and forced a smile. "A Birkin will do." I swallowed hard.
He stood up. Smacked my ass with the stick on his way to the stairs.
I didn't flinch. I couldn't give him the satisfaction.
He climbed the stairs without looking back. I stood there in the dark foyer, pain throbbing through my body, and waited until I heard the bedroom door close.
Only then did I let myself breathe.
And the first thought that came into my head wasn't about Charlie.
The way he touched me like he was starving.
The way he didn't ask for permission. The way he made me feel like a woman and not just a thing to be owned.
Charlie could beat me. Charlie could threaten my mother. Charlie could take everything I had.
But he couldn't touch what Kade woke up inside me.
I pressed my forehead to the cold floor and smiled through the tears.
I want to go back.
- Writer
