Chapter 2

"What did you put in my drink?" Richard splashed cold water on his face, glaring at me with a fierce look.

I'd never seen him like this before, and I instinctively took a few steps back.

"I just..." I mumbled, dropping my head, guilt twisting in my chest. I couldn't look him in the eye.

"Just what?" He closed the distance between us, gripping my hand tightly and towering over me. "Tell me. Why did you put something in my drink?"

I never realized that someone who seemed so refined could be downright terrifying when he snapped.

I was so scared that tears welled up. "I'm still sore. I can't go through with it tonight."

"So you drugged me? Are you trying to poison your own husband?" Richard's grip tightened, and I broke out in a cold sweat from the pain.

"You make me sick. You're nothing but a whore."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I never thought he'd say something so cruel to me.

I looked up at him, and the disgust in his eyes was clear as day.

If he hated me so much, why did he marry me?

Were all the good times a lie?

Tears streamed down my face as I yanked my hand free from his grip, my voice raw with desperation. "How could you say that to me? I'm your wife."

Richard let out a cold laugh, towering over me. "Wife? Do you deserve to be called my wife?"

His words cut through me like a knife, and I crumpled to the ground.

I couldn't stop replaying the moment he proposed in my mind.

He'd said, "I'll be good to you for the rest of my life. You're the one I've been searching for all my life."

Why didn't I deserve to be called his wife?

He spent four years chasing after me, doing everything he could.

I was his wife. We got the papers, had the wedding, and said our vows in church.

On paper and in everyone's eyes, we were married for real.

I staggered to my feet, anger burning in my voice as I demanded, "Richard, what the hell is that supposed to mean? If you think I'm not good enough, then why did you bother marrying me?"

"Emily, there was love between us once." Richard wiped the water from his face and straightened his glasses. "I love you, but I need you to do as I say."

"Do as you say? What am I to you, some tool for you to get off on?"

"You should feel lucky. All these years, I've only had you. Other women don't interest me at all."

Back then, hearing those words made me feel cherished, but now, all I felt was a deep, icy numbness inside.

A man only having eyes for his wife should have sounded like a blessing.

Sure, a balanced sex life could help keep a marriage strong. But what about me? I never got a single night off, except for my period. Worst of all, he had pushed my body past its limits, leaving me completely worn out.

"Why did you marry me? Was I some blow-up doll to you all these years?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Richard burst out laughing, almost maniacally. "Sweetheart, you're still so innocent. Trust me, you're a lot more valuable than a blow-up doll."

I couldn't make sense of what he meant. What did he mean by saying that I was a lot more valuable than a blow-up doll?

Just as I was about to keep questioning him, a man suddenly walked into our bedroom.

He came in with a bouquet of roses in his hand.

I jumped at the sight of him suddenly showing up.

Richard was faster than me. Before the guy could say a word, Richard shoved him right out the door.

He glanced back at me and said, "Get some rest. I'm heading out for a bit."

In less than a minute, I was left all alone in that huge bedroom.

I couldn't hold back anymore and wept bitterly; in all our years of marriage, I had never cried like that.

Starting today, I was going to relearn my husband, the man sleeping right beside me.

No matter if he turned out to be an angel or a devil, I'd uncover the truth about him.