Jackie Simmons
Today Brad would finally come home for our honeymoon, and I couldn't help myself, I was excited. But this time, I was not as naïve as before. I knew his motives and how much he disliked me so I would not expect him to be nice or decent. Those days of denial was officially over for me.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I had on a strapless, blue dress. The dress ended right before my knees, and it showed a little bit of my cleavage. I liked it, laughing as I twirled, while looking at myself. It was the first time I had smiled since the wedding that doomed me to this endless emotional roller coaster. But deep down inside, I knew the only reason why I was wearing this dress was because I wanted Brad to think I looked beautiful. I sighed as I looked at the floor and I thought, 'Why does everything have to be about Brad?'
"Mrs. Rodriguez, your husband has arrived. He is waiting for you in the lobby," I heard the compassionate housekeeper say. I did not know her name, but I loved her. After the breakdown at the hotel, she was there to comfort me even though she barely knew me or this wretched situation. According to her, she was cleaning a room when she heard sobs down the hall. She went to see what was wrong, and that was how we met.
For this simple reason, I knew she was a woman of kindness. The middle-aged woman did not know what I was weeping over, but she still calmed me down. It reminded me that this world of money and arranged marriages was not the only way to live. There were good people out there with regular everyday jobs. And those people did not have time to care about the feelings of an overprivileged, rich girl. So, after my breakdown, I thanked her profusely and made a mental note to tip her.
"Alright. I will be right down. Thank you so much for your service. Here, this is your tip," I said cheerfully as I pulled out fifty dollars from my pocket, handing it to the lady.
"Thank you, Ma'am. You really didn't have to pay me. I must say I enjoyed your company as well," the lady replied.
"Thanks for the compliment. Well, I must go. My husband is waiting," I replied, and I made my way down the stairs of the hotel to the lobby.
When I saw Brad, my breath was knocked out of my body. There, by the hotel's entrance stood my husband dressed in a suit, once again while staring at the front desk. I knew he would be mad instantly because he took part in the action of continuously tapping his feet. He was waiting for me, and I had taken too long. When he caught sight of me standing there, he looked at me.
"What took you so long?" He asked in a very harsh voice.
"I'm sorry, I was changing into my dress," I apologized, nervously glancing at him. His attention was on my dress, and I really hoped it was because he liked it. As I waited for his reply, those few seconds seemed like the longest moments of my whole life. Nonetheless, as always, I was disappointed.
"What on Earth are you wearing? Your chest is showing, and it is too short. Are you crazy? Everywhere we go, I will have to see men ogle you. Go back to your room and change," he snapped at me.
"But-"
I was cut off when he grabbed me by my arm, dragging me back to our hotel room. He turned me around roughly as he unzipped my dress, revealing my back. I clutched the dress to my chest to prevent it from falling. He let go of me quickly, and he started rummaging through my suitcase until he found a red dress that ended right above my knees, just like the last one. But this time it covered my chest all the way and it had sleeves. He threw the dress in my direction.
"I will wait outside while you change. Do not question me, and do what I say," he commanded, leaving the room with the door closed right behind him.
I was so angry that I could scream to the top of my lungs. But I did not want to make a scene in the hotel, so I swallowed my pride as I patiently put on the dress. I wanted to rip the dress into small pieces, but I hid my distress, as I always did. My emotions were looked at as insignificant, so I treated them as such. When tears came to my eyes, I wiped them before they could surface on my cheeks. Instead, I took the dress in my firm grip, daydreaming about the millions of ways I could destroy the new dress I was ordered to wear.
YOU ARE READING
Always Broken (Book 1 and 2)
Ficção Adolescente"Stop crying," he growled, gripping my chin in his hand. When I did not stop crying, he took his teeth and bit my neck hard, making a mark on me. I whimpered as I wiped my tears, keeping my mouth sealed. I wanted to scream but once again, I did not...
