Ms. Calloway (Book 2 in the For Better Or Worse Trilogy)

Chapter 11

Trigger Warning: Blood, Death, Murder, Violence

Roman's POV - July 4th, 2016

Marriage isn't always easy. Or so they say. Actually, it was something my mother and father often reminded me of in the first year of my marriage. Since the day I met Amelia Allistair, I was completely infatuated with her, drawn in by her golden hair and twinkling blue eyes. In the moment, she resembled an angel gracing me with her presence. Even now, knowing Amelia for who she is, a part of me still feels lucky enough to call her my wife.

Marriage in a lot of ways hasn't been what I expected it to be. My parents didn't have a perfect marriage, but there were some good parts. Every now and then we would catch glimpses of love and adoration between them. They had different views of the world. Different morals. I wouldn't say they were the holy grail. I wanted better, but they gave me an idea of what I craved.

At first, I thought that was what Amelia and I could have. Our meeting and marriage didn't begin organically, an arranged marriage never does, but I hoped that we would develop something more meaningful. I'll admit, it was love at first sight for me. Amelia was a bit more hesitant. My mother convinced me it was simply a case of playing hard to get. Marriage would change our dynamic. Better it. Well, at least it was supposed to.

After our wedding, Amelia seemed to become more distant, angrier. The smallest of things would cause an outburst from her. The wrong colored tie chosen for a specific event, calling her out for her shit, catching her cheating, all brought her wrath down on me. The first year of our marriage was the worst year I've ever experienced in my short lifetime. There was nothing in her line of sight that was safe, including me. We were at each other's throats. Hell, there were even times when she had a literal knife to my throat. Our marriage was far from perfect. Sometimes it felt like we were trapped in our very own personal hell. We didn't have any way out. Our families were joined together by our matrimony. Their empire would strive or burn depending on how our marriage unfolded.

No matter what she did, I loved her. I still love her. However, the more I love her, the more she despises me. Perhaps it has to do with her lack of say in the matter, but neither of us we're particularly excited by the prospect of marriage. We were barely in our twenties being thrown into the world of adulthood for the better of our families. Nights were spent alone in our bed. A pin could be heard from miles away in the midst of dinner. Eye contact was minimal.

Every now and then, when she was able to fit me in her busy schedule, between partying and whatever man she was entertaining at the time, we found ourselves in bed together. There was only one thing better than an intimate loving sexual experience. Hatred. Hot, angry, passionate sex was like no other. All consuming. Nails. Shouting. Choking. Reckless.

We had never thought about it, but when she returned with a positive pregnancy test, everything was so much clearer. A baby. That was exactly what we needed. A child would strengthen our marriage. Amelia would change into the woman that I knew she could always be. Something about motherhood could really ground a person. Her maternal bone would kick in. She would realize that this situation we were thrown into didn't have to be negative. We could find hope together and develop our own empire. Whatever that may be.

Though, how long it was until that maternal bone would kick in, was a mystery to me. At six months pregnant, she still wouldn't come home until the early morning hours. I couldn't count how many times I would wander the nights in search of her. After the fiftieth fight that I found myself in to defend her honor, I lost count. Soon enough, this was just regular behavior on a regular basis. She became an open book. Far too easy to read. If only I liked what I was reading.