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My stomach flips with ill feelings, the fear crippling my movement. But then, I knock his chest when he forces my legs apart, my blood pumping as adrenaline bursts throughout me.
“What the fuck did you do that for!”
“I said no!” I raise my voice, jumping out of bed, my heart racing like crazy.“Why aren’t you listening to me?”
“What the fuck do you want from me? You’ve always loved being fucked spontaneously. At least you did before Bentley.”
The way his tone changed at the mention of our son sends a wave of anger throughout me. He has no goddamn clue just how hard it’s been to adjust since I gave birth, and here he is trying to take me so selfishly despite me saying no.
“I want to be respected for my decision, and I don’t want to be raped in my marital bed.”
“Oh, c’mon,” he yells, almost spitting. “You’re being dramatic. You’re my wife, Jessa! Not anyone else’s. And I demand you get back in this bed now.”
My jaw sets as my hands clench into fists. With a tightness in my chest, my nostrils flare while I stand here in silence and listen to this monster I married.
If he dares to lay a finger on me, he’ll have what’s coming.
“I’m sleeping in the guest room,” I tell him in an arctic tone. “Don’t you dare come near me.”
Grabbing my phone, I head to the guest room and lock the door behind me. Suddenly, this house feels like a complete stranger’s home, and Benedict’s actions begin to form a scar destined to stay with me forever.
The feeling of isolation is a cold reality in the dead of night, and slowly, the tears begin to fall against my cheek as I cry myself to sleep, alone in the bed I made for myself.
* * *
“Mama!” I hear Bentley’s playful giggles in the morning while he calls out.
My arms reach out to grab my son, kissing his head as I change his diaper. Eliza walks in with a bottle, surprised to see me given I’m supposed to be attending the polo match with Benedict.
“What time are you leaving, Mrs. Banks?”
The exhaustion is weighing my thoughts down, unable even to think, let alone string a sentence together. My eyes are puffy, making me all the more aware of last night’s events. Eliza doesn’t comment on my appearance, ignoring any eye contact.
“I’m not sure,” I say with a dry swallow. “I’m going to go downstairs and make myself a coffee. Will you be all right with him?”
“Of course, Mrs. Banks.”
I can’t be bothered changing, wearing my pajamas beneath my robe in a hunt for caffeine. Benedict is seated at the table in the dining room dressed in a white-collared dress shirt with a navy blazer on top. For someone who drank his weight in alcohol, he looks remarkably fresh.
Pulling the chair out beside him, I take a seat as Fredrick serves me coffee. I smile politely, then wait for him to leave the room.
“We need to discuss last night.”
“There’s nothing to discuss, Jessa.”
I bite my tongue, but my patience is less than accommodating.
“I suggest you put your phone down and look at me, okay?”
He releases an exaggerated breath, placing his phone down to glance my way. His expression is unforgiving, not a hint of remorse for his uncalled-for actions last night.
“What would you like me to say, Jessa?”
“Let’s begin with, what you attempted last night was fucked up.”
His lips press into a grimace. Then he shakes his head with a sneer.
“You’ve never had a problem before,” he says calmly. “I remember our honeymoon in Greece. You were fast asleep in our private cabana and woke up with me inside you. According to you, it was the best sex of your life.”
