“She does a lot,” Warren grumbled slightly. I could tell it was killing him that they were being nice to me.
I spent most of the evening just sitting there trying not to yawn. Yawning meant boredom to Warren, and I wasn’t allowed to be bored. The small group chatted about business and a few suggestions on which way the company should go. I wasn’t really listening, and didn’t care.
It was late when they left. I could barely keep my eyes open, but I knew I had to. Warren walked our guests to the front door to say his goodbyes. They waved to me, and thanked me for the delicious dinner before disappearing into the darkness.
I smiled before heading for the stairs. “Where are you going?” Warren demanded.
“To change.” I motioned to my dress. It was a comfortable dress, but it was still a dress. I wanted to take off the heels and put on pjs and slippers.
“The dining room is a mess, and so is the kitchen.” He pointed in the direction of the table that was still cluttered with dirty dishes.
“I can get that in a moment. I’d like to get comfortable first,” I begged.
“You can get it now!” He stormed over to stand in front of me. “I expect messes to be cleaned after they’re made, not later,” he barked as he reached up and grabbed my hair right at the base of my head. “When I ask for something to be done, it needs to be done now, not later.” He forced me to walk with him into the dining room. “Now, clean this up!” He all but tossed me towards the table before turning to storm out of the room. “I swear, I don’t understand why you can’t fucking listen to me,” he grumbled as he walked away.
My shoulders shook as I attempted to hold back the tears. My feet ached, and as I slowly slipped the heels off, they sighed in relief. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand as I stood, braced my back as I stretched, and then lifted a stack of plates to carry them into the kitchen. I flipped the water on before going back to the dining room. I wanted to make quick work of the mess, but knew it would take me at least an hour.
As I shuffled along, I let my mind wander. Could I really do this? What would my life be like trying to keep up with Warren’s demands and a new baby?
“Brooke!?” his voice held a warning as he called from somewhere down the hallway, his office I assumed.
“Yes?” I tried to sound sweet as the bile rose in my throat. I knew deep down that he wasn’t finished inflicting his pain for the night.
“We have to pay for water you know?” It was more of a growl now.
“I’m sorry. I needed it to warm up,” I stammered. I didn’t want to piss him off, but I was also mad. He wasn’t going to help, but he was upset with my methods. What I wanted to say was, ‘why don’t you come help then?’ but I knew that would only cause me more pain. “I’ll turn it off,” was all that came out.
I finished washing the dishes, wiped down the counters, and then began the trek upstairs. I flipped light switches off as I passed, and when I came to his office, I saw it was already dark. This could be good or bad. Warren may already be in bed, but if he wasn’t asleep it could mean a long night for me.
I slowly climbed the stairs, stopping every few steps to rest. When I reached the top, I could see a light glowing in our room. My shoulders sagged with the realization that he was awake. So much for a quiet night. I lifted my chin as I stepped over the threshold.
“What took you so long?” he demanded as he rose from where he was perched on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry. The kitchen was a mess. It took me longer than I planned,” I murmured as I shuffled over to the closet. I began to slip off my dress, but Warren had other plans.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he growled as he tugged at the material. “I have an early morning tomorrow, and you’ve kept me waiting long enough.” The material slipped down my body as he rudely jerked it off.
“Can we not do this tonight? I’m really tired,” I begged.
“Why are you tired? You’re here all day laying around.” His lips thinned as he glared at me. This was the Warren I was used to.
“I’m pregnant.” I sighed. “The baby makes me tired.” I whispered the words so quietly that I didn’t think he heard them at first.
“The baby,” he said like a statement before raising his voice. “The baby!” he bellowed. “This is the exact reason why I didn’t want this thing!” He grabbed me by my shoulder and shoved me against the bed.
“Please!” I begged.
“Please what?” he screamed. “Don’t fuck you?” I swear I saw fire shoot from his ears. “You’re my wife. I’ll do with you as I please!” He stormed closer, raising his fist.
It came at me with brute force, but I rolled to the side and lifted my arms for protection. The doctor had warned me that another blow to my head could cause permanent brain damage.
“When I feel like fucking you, I will!” he shouted as he grabbed my legs and attempted to pin me down. I don’t know where it came from, but part of me snapped. I’ve never fought back. I’ve always just tried to convince him to stop while protecting myself. Tonight was different though. That part of you that comes alive when you become a parent came
