Arranged to Him

Mine

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His mother came in, her normal happiness gone. She took the photo from me and caressed the glass over her deceased husband.

"You see the way he looked at me? That's the way James looks at you. Nobody else in the world matters, and the world itself turns around you. He never looked at anyone else like that." She explained, a small, painful smile playing on her lips.

"His heart is just like his father's. His sister...she was a wild spirit and got in with some bad people. She vanished when she was just 18. I begged the cops day and night to look into it, but no luck. His father wouldn't have it and spent weeks tracking her down. He told me one day he knew where she was and he left to find her. I haven't seen him since that day." She told me, her expression dark and the wrinkles seeming somehow deeper in the dimly lit root.

"I'm so sorry," I said, putting my hand in hers and wiping off the tear I was sure she hadn't realized she had shed.

"James wasn't the same after that day. He was only about seven, and my happy boy was gone. Seeing him with you today...I got to see my playful, happy boy again. And I thank you for that." She said solemnly, her warm eyes still misty and her earnestness something I had never experienced before but felt entirely undeserving of it. I didn't love her son yet, and I barely understood him.

He had never told me about his dad or sibling being killed or how lonely his childhood seemed to have been. He carried the pain silently and without bothering me with it. It was a burden no one should ever carry alone.

She took me back downstairs, where the wine and whisky were being opened, and the laughter had only increased. I was nervous to drink again after I got tipsy on our wedding night, but I decided to go along with it since I didn't want to be viewed as weird by everyone else.

Within an hour, everyone was significantly imparted, myself included, even though I took it slow, unlike last time. The only person who tapped out was his mom, who went to bed after a single glass of wine after giving me a final warm hug.

"Oh, of course, James is the most jealous of everyone. I don't really blame him, though, after Jessica. She was a slut." Tasha explained, her cheeks rosy and her mood lightened significantly after her baby went back to sleep.

"I am by far the least jealous," Seph said without a doubt.

"Why did you try to punch Julio out when he asked for my number then?" His girlfriend asked, challenging him and earning a few laughs at his expense.

"I said I was the least jealous, not that I didn't have any jealousy." He said with a slight slur from the copious amounts of whisky that he had drank already.

"I don't know. I think I may be the most jealous and the most toxic. When Armeen cheated on me, I destroyed his entire life. I told the other woman, and she broke up with him. I reported him to immigration and told his employer he was in the U.S. illegally. I got revenge." Tasha said with a smirk over her wine without an ounce of regret.

"To be honest, I think James may be the least toxic of us. What would you do if Anaya cheated on you?" Seph asked curiously, drinking his whiskey slowly while observing James, who was quietly sitting across from me at the table.

"I wouldn't do a single thing to her. The man she cheated on me with, however...he would never be seen from again." He said softly, his eyes flashing dangerously at the very thought of me cheated. He didn't look away from me, and I realized he wasn't talking hypothetically here. It was a promise.

"Why not me? I'm just as guilty if I were to cheat." I asked him darlingly. He bit his lip thoughtfully, his gaze dark.

"Even I have my weaknesses, Anaya." He said quietly. Tasha and Seph were looking between us, confused and yet loving the dysfunctional relationship.

"If Joseph had fucked you after we married, I would surely have killed him though. Good thing he fucked you BEFORE the marriage, I suppose." He said silkily, toying with his glass longingly as if he had envisioned Joseph's murder many times previously.

Seph looked at me, surprised I hadn't told James we hadn't slept together yet, and I just shook my head, not wanting to argue about it tonight. I didn't see any reason why he would believe me anyway.

I drank my wine, finishing my glass without even knowing what number it had been. I couldn't even make heads or tails of our relationship, and every time I thought I understood it, he came at me with a curveball, throwing me off and leaving me reeling.

I got up to take my empty glass to the sink and went to refill James's, but he grabbed me, pulling me into his lap roughly as if no one was watching.

"James...I"

"He may have fucked you first, but I will make you love me first." He told me harshly, his hand going up my shirt higher than what was decent.

"James, not here," I said, annoyed, trying to get up. He refused to allow me up and kissed me deeply, forcing himself on me without control.

He had started out the evening so loving, sweet, and tender, but something in him had changed, and the way he grabbed me painfully and held me in place was entirely different.

I was forced into the marriage, and up until that point, I had forgotten it for weeks. He eventually let me go, but the dangerous way he looked at me didn't falter even as we got back in the car with his security.

The very moment the elevator opened to our apartment, he was back on me, brandishing his ownership of me without care if I wanted to be taken by him or not. I pushed back as hard as I could, and he stopped kissing me, but he grabbed me and shoved me in the direction of the bedroom so hard I fell on the floor.

"Anaya, you can fuck Joseph, but not me? Do you really expect me to let that fly? All night flirting with him while I sit there and have to watch." He told me, stalking me, closing the distance between us before I could stop his jealousy-induced insanity.

He stopped when he was directly in front of me, touching me fully, his breath tickling my skin with how close he was. His hands gripped my waist, and he waited for a pause, seeming to realize what he was about to do.

"I will give you one chance to walk out, just one. But if you stay, I will fuck you so hard you won't even know Joseph's name anymore." He offered me. I wanted to bolt; I was scared, of course, for our first time. The wine gave me more confidence than I should've had, though, and I was silent. He smirked and gave a short nod.

"Very well then, Anaya." He pushed me onto the bed and was over me before I could even draw in a breath. I hadn't realized how heavy he was until I felt his full weight on me. I had no idea what to expect, but I knew I would love every second of it.