"Good you're awake. Get up and get dressed. I expect you downstairs looking presentable in ten, and if you're not I'll drag you down the stairs as you are."
He gives me his usual blank, emotionless stare. It still gets to me though. As he walks back out of the room I struggle to get out of bed, my core feeling raw and sore. But I don't have time to do anything about that now.
I touch up my makeup and hair before putting my dress back on, wanting to make sure to keep it clean. As soon as I finish doing up my dress Michael bursts through the door.
"Oh look you know how to follow directions! Now get your ass downstairs so that we can cut the cake and start our honeymoon."
He pulls me against his body, pressing his heartless lips against mine. He holds me there for a moment, glaring down at my face, examining every inch of it before pulling away and leading me down the stairs.
-Time skip, 2 hours-
As the last guests head out Michael pins me against the glass door, kissing my neck and exposed cleavage as my knees start to quiver in exhaustion.
"God you taste so sweet. And look... my blushing bride is weak in the knees for me already. I knew that you would come around kitten."
His voice dripped a sticky sweet poison the flavor of the booze on his breath. He nipped at my neck a few more times before sweeping me up off my feet and silently carrying me back to our bedroom.
Thank God he was to drunk to do anymore damage though. The most he did was strip down to his tight black briefs. But as soon as his head hit the pillow he was out like a light. I might actually get some sleep tonight... on the couch of course.
-Time skip, 2 weeks-
It's barely 5 o'clock in the morning and I'm already on the bathroom floor. Thank the gods on high Michael is still on his business trip to Germany. We got home from our "honeymoon" four days ago and I've been sick ever since. I feel like the living dead. My body is constantly sore and I'm always exhausted. And on top of that I can't get the nausea to end. I just hope Michael takes this as a warning to stay away from me.
Just as that thought crosses my mind I hear the front door slam. Why is he home early?! I lean over the toilet, spilling what's left of the contents of my stomach into it as I hear the bedroom door open.
"Kitten I'm home! For gods sake woman this is not how you greet your husband!"
He bursts into the bathroom with fury written all over his face. But his expression soon changes once he sees my pale face and thinning body. I can't tell whether it's worry or just disgust. But he quickly walks out of the bathroom, taking his phone out of his pocket and dialing a phone number.
A short while later an older man walks through the door in nice slacks and a baby blue dress shirt, greeting me as I lay in bed. He pulls a stethoscope out of his briefcase, instructing me to breathe as he checks my heartbeat and breath sounds. He then introduces himself as doctor Mathews. The Spade family's on call physician.
We talk about my symptoms for nearly an hour with Michael sitting across the room only halfway paying attention. My heart stops when the doctor pulls out a small box with the words "99.9% accurate" written across it.
A pregnancy test.
The doctor warns me that it may be too soon to tell and that it is a possibility I may just have a bad case of influenza, but it's best to rule out other possible options first.
I walk to the bathroom, test in hand and pee on the stick, praying it is negative. Please God let me live another day in peace.
I can't move as I sit waiting on the result. After two minutes there is a loud *beep*. The test is ready.
I pick it up, looking at the white circle that now has two red lines instead of one.... oh God.