In the Night

2 • Perfect Little Trophy Wife

S U N N I

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Trigger warning

The wooden floorboards were cold underneath me, the temperature numbing me completely. Exactly what I craved. My knees were drawn into my chest tightly, my forehead resting on them. The whole house was silent. I didn't dare to move.

The tears running down my face had dried hours ago, leaving my cheeks sticky and crusty. My dark hair was a mess atop my head, tangles that would take hours to brush out. The door to the room was locked tightly, as it had been all day. I hadn't left this spot since after breakfast, I ran in here and locked the door as soon as he had left the house. I had been too scared to stay out in the open, so I tucked myself away inside this little room that I usually stored spare sheets and blankets in. It was now the only place in the house where I could not be found.

Slam.

"Sunni!" Shouted his voice. I jumped, my stomach dropping as if I were on a rollercoaster. I swallowed down the bile that was threatening to shoot out of my mouth, standing up from my position on the floor as slowly as possible. The less time I spent outside of this room the better. My bones cracked as I moved, my body used to its position after spending the day there, cowering with fear that he might return unexpectedly. With each step I took, my heart raced even further in my chest.

I unlatched the door slowly, wiping the dampness from my eyes and smoothing out my hair and the old floral dress I was wearing. I looked like the perfect little trophy wife, with my frilly apron and pretty dress. I placed a false smile onto my face and walked out. My hands were shaking badly, but I placed them behind my back so he couldn't see how terrified I was. That would be very bad if he saw.

"Hi, honey. How was training?" I asked, my voice steady and sickeningly sweet. It had taken me a while to perfect it, but now after years of doing it, it was almost effortless. I was used to hiding my emotions from him. Not that he took any notice of them, in the first place.

He threw his black gym bag onto the wooden floor and pulled up a chair from the table, The legs squeaking and scratching the floor. He ran his fingers though his short dark hair, massaging his head as if he had a migraine.

"Stressful. Coach really pushed us hard today." He sighed. Simon Donaldson played professional football for a living. He had played his way through college, and straight onto the New York Giants. We met in San Diego a few years ago. Back then, my modelling career was blossoming and I had been booking more jobs than I could handle. I took an afternoon off at a cute little Mexican pub, which is where I first met him. We'd been together ever since.

"I'm sorry sweetie." I walked behind him and began massaging his muscly shoulders, knowing he liked it when I did that. He relaxed into my hands and closed his eyes. He lifted his arms and rested his hands on mine and I prayed that he couldn't feel how much they were shaking.

"I'm really tired, baby." He sighed. I continued rubbing his shoulders, too afraid to stop.

"I have dinner sorted. Did you want any before you went to bed?" I asked. He rolled his head around and I released his shoulders from my grip.

"What'd you make?" He questioned, turning around to face me. He placed his hand on my arm and I smiled falsely down at him.

"Just leftovers. Nothing special." I replied. He hummed and nodded.

"I'll have some before I head to bed." Simon said, closing his eyes. I continued rubbing his shoulders and he moaned in satisfaction. "Hey, about this morning-"