Salara’s POV
“Salara.” The sound of Henry’s voice makes its way to me in the kitchen from his place on the couch in the living room. “Derrick will be here soon.” Henry continues without waiting for a response from me. “Is dinner almost ready?”
Sucking in a breath of air, I bite my tongue to prevent myself from replying with the words I really want to say. ‘Dinner would move along a lot faster if you were in here helping me.’ But of course I couldn’t say that because wives are supposed to obey their husbands and hide away any feelings of discontent that they feel.
If I had known that this would be my life five years ago when Henry asked me to marry him, I never would have said yes. I should have left him after that first night when he yelled at me for not having dinner ready when he came home from work. I had seen his type before and I had a feeling it wasn’t a one time thing.
The foolishness of being young is no excuse for sticking through five years of being emotionally beaten down until I am nothing but a shell of the woman I used to be. I almost left him once four years ago, but then I found out I was pregnant and I felt trapped in a marriage that I am miserable in.
Our daughter is now three and is the only happiness that I find in my life these days. If it wasn’t for her I would have given up a long time ago. I guess that is one thing I can thank my husband for. If he hadn’t secretly switched out my birth control pills for sugar pills, I never would have had her.
“SALARA!” Henry’s angry voice cuts through my thoughts, drawing me back to the fact that I still haven’t responded to his question yet. “I asked you a question, woman!” He yells out angrily. I can hear the sound of shuffling feet as they make their way towards me in the kitchen.
Sucking in a deep breath, I brace myself for the emotional abuse I am about to recieve from my husband that is supposed to love me until death do us part. My eyes wander over to the archway that leads into the kitchen from the hallway. Soon enough, the sight of my very angry husband meets my eyes from the entryway.
When I first met my husband during my freshman year of college,
college I wasn’t allowed to complete thanks to him
, he was every girl's dream man on campus. I was so overcome with joy that he had shown an interest in me that I completely ignored the many red flags about him.
With his boyish good looks, it was easy to look past the little things that set off warning alarms within my brain. Because how could someone so good looking be so evil? How foolish and wrong I was at the tender age of nineteen.
Henry stands at six foot, a good ten inches taller than my own five foot, two inch frame. His blonde hair is short around the sides with more length on top that he styles perfectly everyday, because heaven forbid a stray hair ever be out of place.
His body is more slender than a lot of the muscular men that I have seen on tv, but there isn’t an ounce of fat on him which is what drives the girls wild. Add in his baby blue eyes and he is every girl's wet dream. Something that he reminds me of constantly when he nitpicks at the remaining baby weight that I haven’t been able to shake off.
It’s not like I am fat or anything, I am only a hundred and thirty pounds, which is a normal weight for my age and height, at least that’s what the doctors tell me..but try telling Henry that. He constantly critizices me for not snapping right back to the one seventeen that I was before giving birth to Hayden.
“Are you just going to stand there looking stupid? Or are you going to answer my question?” Henry sneers at me. He leans against the frame of the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest, bulging the muscles in his arms. He really is something nice to look at, as long as he’s not talking.
Letting out a sigh, I turn away from Henry and back to the dinner that needs to be removed from the oven. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.” My voice comes out in a soft whisper. Years of fearing his anger has brought me to this point in my life.
It’s not that I fear him hitting me, he has never laid a hand on me or our daughter, but emotional abuse can cut so much deeper than physical abuse can.
Sensing Henry still standing behind me, I turn around to face him, my body stiffening at the harsh look on his face. “Is that really what you are going to wear?” He asks, looking my body up and down.
Glancing down, I take in my black summer dress that is covered in sunflowers. This is my favorite dress and he knows it, which is why he is trying to make me feel selfconscious in it. I squirm under his scrutiny, unable to fight the moment of self hate that flashes through my brain as I look at myself.
Just then the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of Henry’s business partner that he has invited over for dinner in an attempt to get him to sign the contracts quickly. Henry lets out a dejected sigh as he tears his eyes away from me. “There is no time to change now, so that will have to do.”
With those words, he turns and leaves me alone in the kitchen as I dread the fake show of love and affection that Henry will bestow upon me during this dinner, just to tell me later not to believe a word that he said. That is what happens everytime that we have one of his business associates over for dinner.
Soon, the sound of voices drift down the hall towards me. The gruff sound of our guest's voice slides over my body like a lover’s caress, causing feelings to stir up in me that even Henry isn’t able to achieve during our weekly mating.
“I see you have brought your son with you Derrick.” Henry says, putting on that fake voice of his that I loathe so much.
A husky chuckle rumbles through me, igniting more of those delicious feelings throughout my body. Anticipation courses through my brain, as the sound of footsteps draw nearer to the kitchen. “Something smells delicious.” The voice says, causing a blush to creep up my cheeks.
Henry always tells me how terrible my food is whenever he is in a foul mood, and never compliments me when he isn’t, which isn’t very often these days.
My eyes lock on the entryway, not wanting to miss the moment that Henry’s dinner guest makes his way into the kitchen, my lasagna in the oven completely forgotten by me. Suddenly a man appears in the entryway, sucking the air from my lungs as I stand there staring at him in aww.
He stands at least half a foot taller than Henry and his dark looks are more appealing to me than Henry’s lighter ones. His black hair is cut short along the bottom with curls gracing the top in the most alluring way.
And his eyes…never have I seen this shade of green in anyone’s eyes. I find myself getting lost in the depths of them as he looks at me hungrily. His well defined chest stretches his black t-shirt perfectly over his muscular body, making my mouth water as I stare at him.
“Derrick-” Henry interrupts our silent appraisal, disapproval in his voice. “This is my wife Sa-” A growl rumbles out of Derrick’s chest, interrupting Henry as he introduces me to our guest.
I watch in avid fascination as his face begins to contort, his mouth and nose fusing together until there is a snout in its place, large canines protruding from his lips as he growls over at Henry. Horror fills Henry’s face as he stares at Derrick, trying to grasp what is happening.
“Mate.” Derrick growls at Henry, moving to take a step towards him, causing Henry to take a step back in fear.
Just then the sound of the timer on my oven draws everyone’s attention over to me.