The life of Sandy Rose

Chapter 29: December 1926

"Sandy?" Ronnie shouted, "Are you ready yet?"
"Yes!" she shouted back, fastening her earring. They were diamonds. Obviously. Another present.
He entered her dressing room and looked her over. She stood there, waiting.
He glanced over her and looked at her face with no shown emotion, "Turn." She did. And she sighed, for she knew what was coming, "Change it," he simply ordered, and she knew she didn't have to, or want to, look at him, to know that he was frowning.
"Ron," she started, "What's wrong with it?"
It was an evening gown, long and silver, glimmering whenever she moved. The neckline was high, her neck not even showing, but it was the back, she knew. That was the issue with him. Low slung, the small of her back showing.
"I don't want you showing your back to everyone," he said, "Just change it, we need to leave."
She sighed, "Why you care, I don't know," she mumbled, and she was sure she said it so very quietly, not a soul could hear it, but she felt her arm jerk when her husband yanked it back, her face a mere inch from his. Her eyes were wide.
"No, Ronnie-."
"What did you say?" he asked of her, a glare on his face. Now she was gonna get it. She knew. Her heart was beating fast, and she could feel sweat on her brow from the anticipation of it all. She would have to plead her case before he listened. He almost never did. She could feel tears brim in her eyes. Please, she begged him in her head, please....
"N-nothing, Ronnie, I didn't-." She whimpered.
"Sandy," he loosened his grip, sighing. He kissed her lips and she sighed in turn, relieved. He smoothed her cheek, calming down, "Lets try and have a good night, alright? You want that don't you, baby?"
She nodded quickly, reflex fast.
He kissed her again, "Good. Now wear that dress I like, the red one."
She nodded, walking away to go and find it, and only then, did her heart drop from her throat back into her chest.

In the car, he was almost all over her, pulling her right up close, and showering her face with kisses, pecking at her neck. She pushed at his face, "Ron, stop," she said firmly. In truth, she knew never to speak to him like that unless she had reason. This time, it was because her husband hadn't deigned to put the divider up if he felt the need to touch her. And she felt bad too. She had taken it upon herself to get to know the staff better than she had before. She, frequently, liked to visit Robert in his garage and talk to him. He had a wife. And five sons too. He mostly saw them on the weekends, and some nights, when Ronnie gave him the days off. So, Sandy liked to speak with him and play chess with him. He had taught her and she had only been able to beat him twice. But she had giggled with delight when she had.
She didn't want to make things any harder for him, when he couldn't hold his own woman.
Her husband sighed against her neck, "What's wrong with you, Sandy?" he asked her, quite sternly, so she frowned.
"Nothing is wrong with me, just stop it," she retorted. She lowered her voice to a sharp whisper, "Think of Robert, Ronnie."
Ronnie sat back, his face hard. She looked at him, and shook her head. He looked like such a child right now and she wouldn't entertain that behaviour. She turned from him, folding her arms.

Now she felt bad. Upset and guilty. He just loved her. Why was she being so harsh to him? She didn't need to.
But she had no idea about how to approach him.
Yet, she found that she didn't want to talk to him, when he decided to speak up and say, "Wipe that look off your face, Sandy, you look simple."
She hadn't realised she had that far away look on her face. Her brother had told her she looked dreamy or tired and she had just chuckled, but brushed it off because he wasn't being mean.
But she turned her head to glare at him, "Why would you say that to me?"
"Just do as you're told for once."
She scoffed, "I always do what I'm told, stop being so horrible, Ronnie!" she snapped at him.
Ronnie glanced at Robert who had stolen a short glance at their spat, and he pressed the button for the divider.

Sandy froze, trying to edge away as best and as quickly as she could, but she couldn't get away quickly enough. He grabbed her and slapped her face hard. She tried to scream, but he silenced her. He didn't even have to put hand over her mouth. He just had to look. Just stare. His face hard. She held in her yelp, and her eyes stung with tears.
"R-Ronnie-," she pleaded, but he shook her firmly.
"Shut up!" he hissed through gritted teeth, "Just shut up, you stupid bitch!"
Her eyes widened and she burst into tears. His face didn't change though, it was almost as if he was feeling nothing. He grabbed a handful of her locks and pulled her head to his. She whimpered.
"I should fuck you hard right now," he told her. She shook her head. She hoped he wouldn't. Aside from not wanting to be fucked, she was still sore from giving birth. She had managed to keep him away from her this long.
"I'm sorry," she weeped, "Please, Ronnie, I'm sorry...," she closed her eyes, tears spilling over her eyelids, and she put her hand to his face, stroking his cheek.