Til Death Do Us Part

Chapter Three

Flashback
I hear the door slam and look over at the clock. 2:04AM. He's either drunk or been out whoring around again. Maybe both.

I turn over staring at the wall, wondering how we ended up here. What had I done wrong that would make him stray to the other side of the street? Why couldn't I have been what he asked me to be?

It wasn't always this way. He use to be really sweet to me. He was proud of me.

We met my first year of college. I was 19 and he was 22. He was the star football player on our school team. He had a fully paid scholarship and a heart of gold.

He turned up at the club one night where I use to bartend. He was there to celebrate the biggest win of the season. That's when he stole my heart.

Six months later, I was stealing his last name. We were the happiest couple. He went on to play in the big leagues after college and I followed.

We bought our first house together and started talking about kids in the near future. We had everything we ever wanted or needed.

Until the overtired transport driver fell asleep at the wheel and hit us head on. That night was the end of our happiness.
I woke up in the hospital to find out I had a broken leg, a severe concussion and a husband who was in a coma. There were no signs of him waking up any time soon. 

He spent four months laying there, motionless. Not once did I give up on him. I sat there at his bedside, praying everyday. The doctors tried to convince me that there was no hope and I should just pull the plug. I couldn't give up on him like that. But now... Now I really wish I would have. As horrible as that sounds, it's not as horrible as what I have put up with for the past 4 years.

The door swings open, smashing into the wall behind it and bringing me out of the trance I was in. I squeeze my eyes shut hoping he will leave me alone tonight.

"I know you're awake, worthless bitch," he slurs as he takes his clothes off.

I let a tear slide down my face and take a deep breath. "Get some sleep, Aaron. You have to be up early," I whisper.

Wrong thing to say apparently. He grabs a fist full of my hair, yanking my head back towards his chest. "Don't tell me what to do, you dirty fucking pig. Last time I checked, I'm the man of this house." I let out a small sob. He smells like whiskey and cheap perfume, not that it's unusual for him these days. He tightens his grip on my hair and stradles my chest. I try squirming and getting him off.

"Please, don't!" I cry.

He reaches out and smacks me across my face. "Open your mouth. NOW!" he roars, before shoving his dick in my mouth.

He keeps thrusting in my mouth, making me unable to breathe. I feel like I'm about to pass out before he pulls out of my mouth and moves down my body, ripping my shorts off where he thrusts into me with so much force that I cry out in pain. He only thrusts into me four times before he is spilling his unwanted seed into me. He pulls out and rolls over to his side of the bed.