"Yeah," I stated quickly. "Just… lots to absorb."
He nodded, his gaze searching my face. "It'll get less tough," he said, nearly as though he was attempting to persuade himself as heaps as me.
"Will it?" I asked, not sure if I believed him.
"I hope so," he responded, looking away.
For the rest of the night, I played my part. I smiled and laughed while anticipating, nodded in settlement to compliments, and danced with Anthony as cameras flashed around us. But inside, I felt like a hollow shell. This was what was alleged to be a dream come true; however, all I felt became an overwhelming experience of loss. The loss of my independence, my freedom, and maybe even a piece of my soul.
As night came to a close and the guests began to leave, I located myself status through the big home windows, staring out at the Chicago skyline. The metropolis lights sparkled like diamonds in opposition to the darkish sky, a lovely phantasm, similar to my life now.
"Ready to go?" Anthony asked, standing beside me.
"Yeah," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
He located a gentle hand on my back, guiding me toward the outdoors. We walked out to look forward to a limousine in silence, the air among us thick with unstated words. As the car pulled a long way from the grand hall, I glanced back at the lifestyles I was living inside. For the first time that night, I felt a pang of worry about the existence I had been heading into.
"To new beginnings," Anthony said, elevating his glass as the car sped through the city streets.
"To new beginnings," I echoed, taking a sip.
We arrived at the resort, and I just want to sleep and have a good rest in bed. The day had been onerous, and my feet ached from the countless hours of status and pretending. Pretending to be happy, to be in love, to be the appropriate bride in this perfect marriage. But as I walked into the suite, I observed Anthony already sitting in the lounge location, a tumbler of what appeared like whiskey in his hand. His eyes had been bloodshot, and his tie had become loosened as if he'd been struggling in competition with the restrictions of the night just as tons as I had.
"Goodnight, Anthony," I stated, not looking for masses of a reaction.
"There's nothing good about the night," he muttered, his voice slurred.
I paused, my hand at the door dealing with the bedroom. "What's wrong?" I asked, turning to take a look at him.
He fixed me with a gaze that made my pores and skin move slowly. There turned out to be a few things in his eyes—a few issues dark and unpredictable. "Get down from the mattress and crawl slowly towards me."
I blinked, unsure if I heard him correctly. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," he stated, his voice cold and stressful. "Crawl to me."
I set free a hectic snicker, hoping this would become a few sort of twisted comic stories. "Why must I crawl to you when I can walk?" I asked, seeking to keep the tone mild.
"Don't ask me silly questions," he snapped. "Just do it. Now."
The room seemed to reduce around me. His tone, his expression—this wasn't a shaggy dog tale. My laughter died on my lips, and a knot of fear tightened in my stomach. "Anthony, you're inebriated. Let's just go to bed."
He stood up unexpectedly, knocking over the glass on the desk. The liquid spilled on the floor, but he didn't seem to care. His strides were realistic as he approached me, and I discovered myself instinctively backing away until I hit the wall. My heart pounded in my chest, panic placing in.
"Anthony, what are you?"
His hand gripped my arm tightly, yanking me toward him. His breath turned hot on my face, smelling of alcohol and something else—some factor that made my skin flow slowly. "You need to make me satisfied, don't you?" he said, his voice dangerously low. "We are couples. Don't you want to make this night excellent for us?"
I attempted to tug my arm unfastened; however, his grip turned like iron. "This isn't what we agreed to," I stated, my voice shaking. "You said no strings attached; undergo in mind? We are suppose to follow the guidelines of the agreement."
"I made the rules," he growled. "And I'll determine what's to be finished and what's now not to be carried out."
His lips crashed closer to mine, a brutal, traumatic kiss that left no room for protest. I pushed him away with all my power, stumbling again towards the mattress. "No, Anthony! I didn't sign up for this. I'm not prepared for this."
He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound that sent shivers down my spine. "What's wrong with tonight?" he requested, his eyes sparkling with some factor that appeared dangerously like madness. "We just finished our marriage ceremony. Let's enjoy our honeymoon."
"No, I can't!" I shouted, feeling the partitions around me. "Please, Anthony, this isn't right."
But my pleas appeared to make matters worse. His face twisted in anger, and he lunged in the direction of me, grabbing my wrists and forcing me down onto my knees. "You ungrateful bitch," he spat, his voice venomous. "You think you can just take everything I provide you with and not fulfill my one wish tonight?"
Tears sprang to my eyes as he tightened his grip on my wrists. "Anthony, please. This isn't you."
"You don't know me," he said, his voice cold and harsh. "You know nothing about me."
He pushed my head up, his eyes burning into mine. "You're going to make me happy this night. After all, I've spent a lot on you." He drove my head closer to his chest. "You're going to make this right."
"No!" I cried out, suffering in opposition to his hold. "I won't do it."
He let loose an annoyed growl and shoved me once more, his face contorted with rage. "You're crying? What the fuck are you crying for?" he shouted. "You cherished the lavish marriage ceremony, didn't you? Do you have any idea how much I've spent on you? And you couldn't make me happy?"
I tried to rise, but he grabbed my fingers and drove me onto the mattress. I screamed, but he clamped and covered my mouth. "Shut up," he hissed. "You're going to do what I say, and you're going to find it irresistible."
Terror clawed at my chest. This wasn't the person I had agreed to marry. The captivating Anthony Rodriguez I knew was gone. He changed into someone I could barely recognize in a second—a person who scared me. I thrashed towards him, my muffled cries filling the room, but he became more potent, his weight pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket.
His hands started out fumbling together along with his belt, and panic surged through me. I bit down on his palm as tough as I needed to, and he yelped in pain, jerking his hand away. I used the transient distraction to wriggle out from beneath him; however, he grabbed my ankle, pulling me back.
"Anthony, stop!" I shouted, my voice cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!"