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“I wanted to meet with you today to go over some ground rules for our marriage,” he says, getting right down to business.
And here I thought we were going to get to know one another.
“You will be expected to stay home. There’s no reason for you to work or go to school. After a few years it will be expected for you to have my children. You will not have any friends outside of me and some of my colleagues’ wives. We will have sex every night. If I don’t think the sex is good enough, I’ll get it from somewhere else. If you have the notion to get it from somewhere else, I’ll eliminate that problem immediately. Starting now, you’re mine. I control you. I’ll have eyes on you at all times,” he says, almost bored.
What the fuck? How am I even supposed to respond to this?
“This is a contract between me and your parents. You really have no say in any of it. I was just giving you the courtesy of knowing what will be expected. Should you break the contract at any point, there will be consequences.”
I feel the anger rising inside of me. How dare he speak to me like this. How dare my parents think they can get away with this. I’m my own person. I’m an adult. Why am I even humoring them with this ridiculous arrangement?
“You will be expected to attend functions with me, dress in the clothes I pick out for you, and be the good little girl that I know you can be,” he says between bites.
I feel like I might throw up.
“Can you point me in the direction of the restroom?” I ask.
He rambles off directions and I try not to run to the bathroom. Once inside, I splash some water on my face. This can’t be how my life turns out.
I pull my phone out of my purse, quickly texting everything he just said out to Cole. Maybe I should let him see if there’s anything he can do to help? I can’t live like this.
“Charlotte. You’ve been in there a while.” I hear him outside of the bathroom.
Jesus Christ. I can’t even be alone for a few minutes.
“Almost done,” I tell him.
I turn the sound off on my phone and stick it deep down in my purse. Jasper strikes me as the kind of guy that would want to go through my messages, and I won’t be having that happen today.
“Sorry about that. I needed a minute. That was a lot to take in,” I tell him.
“How about we go into the living room? Get to know each other a little better.” He grins, running his finger up and down my bare arm.
“Sure,” I agree, backing away slightly and hoping he doesn’t notice.
When we sit on the couch, he immediately puts his hand on my knee. I have to force myself to keep the bile threatening to come up from his touch down.
“I’d like to see if there’s any chemistry here,” he says, pushing his hand higher up on my thigh.
“Well, we just met. Don’t you think it’s a little soon?” I ask.
“Oh, are you innocent? That’s even better.” He smirks.
My mind flashes to last night on the kitchen counter with Cole. I’m definitely not innocent.
“I just don’t like to kiss on the first date,” I tell him.
“I don’t really care what you like,” he says, nuzzling his face in my neck, his fingers brushing against the material of my panties.
I seriously think I’m going to be sick.
“That’s enough,” I say, pushing him off me and scooting down to the other end of the couch.
“Listen here, bitch,” he says, his mood changing in an instant.
The anger is radiating off of him. He’s in my face, his hands gripping my shoulders, practically on top of me.
“What I say goes. It would do you good to remember that.”
