Prologue

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I had just gotten off of work and was truly exhausted. But knowing what was waiting for me at home had me a bit on alert. I should be tired of going home to a man who abused me, yelled at me, tore me down at any chance he got, and demanded anything from sex to how he wanted his dinner....

But I wasn't.

I was the dotting and loving wife that was committed to her marriage and was in love with her husband despite the hand that it dealt me. I was utterly devoted to him and deep inside I knew that I should've hated it, but logically, I simply didn't care. I just wanted one less reason for him to be angry at me. Maybe then, I'd be enough for him and the cheating would stop. That night I wanted to be extra pretty for him. So I spent all day getting my hair done, buying a new outfit, and getting lingerie that I just knew he'd like. But then I got home and cooked dinner and all my happiness that I had felt was just dashed in two seconds.

"Would it kill you to make a decent meal for once Aviyah!? God, you can't do anything right can you?" He spat at me

I remember leaning against our marble island as he cut into me for what must've been the millionth time in our seven years of marriage. There was nothing wrong with the food I had prepared. Steaks well done, string beans crisp and flavorful, rice, and even mashed potatoes with the right amount of cheese just like he liked. But no, nothing I did was ever good enough for him. And now, as I was fighting through tears, I waited for his tirade to end.

"You're so worthless! I have no idea why I am still married to you!" He yelled

I bit my trembling lip as he stormed out of the room. When I heard him slam our bedroom door shut, I took that time to finally let the tears fall down my cheeks as I cleaned up the food and put it into its rightful containers. I then timidly walked into our room and saw him taking off his clothing for the night. His back towards me I see the scratches and the lipstick besmirching his caramel brown skin. Red marks as severe as the pain I myself felt inside. I had known that my husband was cheating on me; something in my gut had told me that he was before I actually had the proof. I desperately wanted my intuition to be wrong. But the late nights at work became more frequent. Hushed phone calls filled the air while I slept by his side. Charges on our accounts came up from clothing that was never in my size and that I'd never even dream of wearing. I was ignored, untouched for over a year, and isolated away from those that loved me. All those alarming signs were right in my face and you think I would've left by now right?

Wrong.

I had tried before, I really had. But when I had packed my bags and tried to get into my car to go to my mother's house... he had came home from work early and had caught me in the act of trying to flee. I remember being gripped by the neck, my bag knocked to the floor and me being pushed into the wall harshly. Gritted teeth filled my line of vision and panic rung in my ears as his squeeze intensified. I stared at the beast I called my husband and trembled before him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" He asked gruffly

"I....I'm leaving you Jessie." I said quietly

"What!?" He growled


I stayed quiet and looked towards the floor.

"Answer the damn question Aviyah!" He yelled as his grip tightened

"I'm leaving Jessie. Let me go." I whimpered, starting to slightly choke

"No, you aren't going to leave me. You are mine! My wife, my property, mine! I own you Aviyah."

Some bit of courage showed up in that instance. It was a horrible idea.... But I did it anyway.

"You cheat on me with all sorts of women, you beat on me, you neglect me and you treat me like trash!"

"Maybe it was to teach you how to be a better wife. For God sakes Aviyah, you've let yourself go since we've gotten married. You never fix yourself up; your hair is a mess! For crying out loud, at least try!"

For the record, I didn't have the big butt that some women of my race had, though I did have the the huge boobs . I had a simple frame.... and yeah, maybe I was a little too fat, but I was when he married me and he told me a woman with a little extra didn't bother him at all, that he loved me and my body the way it was. If that was the case.... why had his feelings change?

"Aviyah!" I heard an outer voice snap

I snapped back to my reality and looked over at my husband.

"Did you hear me?"

God knows I wanted to say yes... but better judgment told me to say no since he didn't like liars. He sighed and put his bedroom shirt on.

"Look, dinner was okay and I'm sorry for snapping on you like that."

I stared at him in shock. Was he apologizing to me.... or at least trying to? Though it was no apology, with Jessie Bellamy it was the closest to one I'd ever get.

"I...it's okay." I said quietly, looking away from him

He walked towards me and wiped the tears I didn't know were falling down my cheeks. God, why was I such a weakling!?

He pulled me towards him and hugged me to his chest. When would this all stop? And when would I truly have my husband back?

"I'm sorry."

How many times have I heard him utter those words only for him to abuse love's power? He knew I loved him with my everything, and yet, I knew he had the power over me.... the power I wish I could take back from him. But I wasn't strong enough to, and I felt so pathetic because of it.

"What about the other women Jessie?"

"I can't help it. "

"Why aren't I enough for you? Am I not your wife?"

He put his hands on my cheek and I flinched

"You are my wife. But like I've told you before: lose some weight, make yourself look better and then maybe I'll stop sleeping with other women."

I stepped back from him incredulous of what he had just said to me. Or better yet, expected but still laced with so much disgust.

"I'm sleeping in the guest room tonight."

I said nothing as I gathered my things and moved across the hall for the night. Once the door shut behind me and I changed into my last night time garment, I climbed into bed slowly and cried myself silently to sleep. Nothing was going to change. And if I had even thought about leaving him again, it would probably be the last thing I did. I was stuck and had no idea what to do. But all I could do was cry my sorrow's out into oblivion.

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