“Daddy’s coming. See daddy?” I asked, bouncing Nicholas in my arms. I couldn’t believe he was six months old already. He was such a little man, sporting his own little personality, and his daddy was part of that personality. He kicked his legs and arms excitedly as soon as he saw Drew enter the door. He was even more excited on days like this, when Drew had been gone for three days. Mommy was pretty excited to see him too.
“Marta,” I called. “Take him upstairs.”
“Morgan, please come upstairs. Wait until he calms down,” Marta begged, taking Nicholas from me.
“I’m fine. Just go upstairs with Nicky, please.”
My excitement quickly turned into dread. I crossed my arms and watched as Drew screamed and yelled at Celeste. Celeste, unlike me, gave it right back. I mean I did sometimes, I guess, but not when he was like this. It was best I calmly let him rant until it was over.
“Where’s Nicholas?” Drew yelled, slamming the door behind him.
He’s not mad at you, Morgan. It’s work. He’s just stressed.
“Marta just took him up for a nap. He was getting fussy. I missed you.” I tried appeasing him by wrapping my arms around his neck.
He moved them. “Did you cut your hair?”
“A little. Do you like it?”
“No, why didn’t you ask me first?”
“Drew. Stop. You’re just trying to start a fight.”
“I’m trying to start a fight because I think my wife should ask before going off and cutting her hair?”
“It’s not even an inch for Christ’s sake. Do you ask me permission before you get a haircut? You’re being ridiculous.”
“I don’t tell you what I am doing because I don’t need to. You do not, nor will you ever, wear the pants in this family. You got that, Morgan?” Drew yelled, slamming me against the closed door. I held his stare until he grabbed my hair, waiting for an answer.
“Go!” he ordered, nodding towards his office.
This was not how I’d planned his homecoming. I knew where I was going, and I knew why. This wasn’t my first rodeo, and I was sure it wouldn’t be my last. I could have protested and made it worse. I didn’t do that; it was easier this way.
“You do this shit because you want me to punish you, don’t you, Morgan?” Drew asked, closing the door and locking it. He didn’t need to lock the door. He knew no one would come in. He did it as form of manipulation, like a threat. I didn’t care if the door was locked. He was going to do what he did regardless of the door being locked.
I didn’t answer. I only stood there with my arms crossed, fighting my own demons. Part of me was already aroused and the other part wanted to be defiant, tell him where to go and show him I didn’t have to listen to him.
“Answer me!” he yelled just as I caught the back of his knuckles with my cheekbone. Drew slammed me to his desk and rubbed my ass. “You always do this. You always have to go and fucking defy me. I think you like this, Morgan. I think you love it when I bend you over this desk and spank you like a bad little girl. You like it. That’s why you do it, isn’t it, Morgan?”
“Yes, Drew,” I answered, closing my eyes, breathing quick erratic breaths as he unbuttoned my shorts.
“That’s why your pussy is so wet. Can you feel how wet your pussy is? Your pussy is so fucking wet, Morgan,” he whispered to the back of my hair as he slid my shorts down my hips. I stepped out of them and gasped from the contact of his flat hand against my ass. I moaned when he rubbed the sting out and dipped his middle finger inside me before the second blow.
The dull pain that I’d felt just below my right eye was replaced with pleasure between my legs. I was wet. I don’t know why. I don’t know why I would be turned on by this. This was sick, repulsive, and twisted. Would things always be this way? Could Maranda fix us? I doubted it. She probably wouldn’t even be around after this week. That’s what Drew did. As soon as our new therapist wanted to dig deeper into his past, he fired them. I couldn’t see Maranda getting any further with him than the last four had.
I took five stinging blows to my bare ass before Drew released himself deep inside me. The friction of him, sliding in and out of me was amazing. I wanted to come in three seconds. Drew hissed, pulling my hips towards his, thrashing in and out of me.
“Can you reach the drawer?” he murmured. I leaned forward, opened the desk drawer, and handed the bottle and a condom back to him.
“Ahhh fuck, baby,” he moaned, sliding into my ass. I moaned too when he reached around to massage my pulsating clitoris. “You want come, don’t you, baby?”
“Oh god, yes. Hmmm, right there, Drew,” I moaned, dropping my head, spiraling out of control at the twisted hands of my husband.
“Turn around,” Drew rasped in a husky tone, the husky tone that drove me crazy.
Falling to my knees, I waited for the condom to come off and parted my lips. Drew moaned, coating my lips with his come. “Hmmm fuck, Morgan. Yeah, baby, swallow me. Hmmm, that’s it,” he hissed, sliding to the back of my throat.
Sucking him clean, I looked up to his half smile and sad eyes. Sometimes I wished he’d just talk to me; tell me what was on his mind. He wouldn’t. I’d tried too many times, always getting the same response. It was his job to take care of me and Nicky, and I didn’t need to worry about him.
“Drew, don’t. I’m fine,” I said, looking up as Drew brushed the palm of his thumb across my bruising cheek.
“Goddamnit, Morgan. Come here.”
I stood, wrapping my arms around his neck. He pulled me close, burying his face in my hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I’m fine. Stop. Let’s go see your son. We were standing at the window waiting when you came home.”
“I thought you said he was napping.”
Shit. I hated it when I made him feel guilty. It never helped a thing. It always made it worse. I turned away from him without answering, retrieved my clothes, and dressed while he stared at me.
“You sent him upstairs when you saw me arguing with Celeste, didn’t you?”
“You weren’t arguing with Celeste. You need to call and apologize to her.”
Drew sat on the brown leather sofa and disgustedly ran his fingers through his hair. I placed my hand over his and begged him to let it go. It’s what I did. I don’t want to make it sound like this was normal, or our routine or anything. It wasn’t. Most of the time Drew came home happy, missing me and Nicky. The times that Drew lost money on a sale, or when business was down, or something happened at work that upset him were the times things ended like this.
Whatever. It was over. He’d be sorry and be the best husband and father a woman could ask for—until the next time anyway.
“Go see Nicky. I’ll be up in a minute.”
I jumped when Drew stood and put his fist through the wall, literally through the wall. “You’ll be up in a minute because you need to go get ice, right?”
“Drew. Damn it. Will you stop? Let it go. Please,” I begged, exasperated. This was the worst part of his temper. I would rather deal with the temper than the guilt that followed it.
“I’m sorry, Morgan. I’m so sorry.”
“I’m not mad at you. I’m fine. I forgive you. It’s Friday, you have two days of no work, just me and your spoiled little boy.”
“He is not spoiled.”
I breathed a sigh of relief at the smile on his face. “He is so spoiled. He thinks you have to be with him every second. As soon as I walk out of the room, he screams.”
“He just doesn’t want you to leave him. I don’t want you to leave me either,” Drew sadly spoke, kissing my bruised cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”
Drew went up to see Nicholas, and I walked to the kitchen for an icepack. I could already feel it swelling and could see the puffiness below my eye.
“Don’t Marta. It’s none of your business,” I said, turning to see the look on Marta’s face; it was telling me how stupid I was. Maybe I was. I don’t know, regardless it was none of her business.
“I’m not saying a word. I don’t need to. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“You do know that Drew hears everything you say. He can rewind every camera in this house,” I warned.
Marta shrugged her shoulders and took the icepack from me. “Is he going to fire me for sticking up for you? Telling you how you deserve better? Is that what you’re afraid of?” she asked, placing the blue gel over my eye.
“Marta, please don’t do this. This has nothing to do with you.”
“This is the second time this month, Morgan. That’s two too many for me. I’m not sure I can sit around here and watch this escalate. Is this how you want Nicholas to see you?”
“Marta. You’re out of line. It’s none of your business.”
Marta nodded, smiled a weak smile, and turned to prepare our dinner. I walked away. Was she right? Did I really want my baby to see this? Walking into the bathroom, I shook my head at my reflection. I had a black eye—again. Marta was right. This was twice in one month. Was it always going to be this way? No, no it wouldn’t. We were going to counseling. We’d get through this. We had to.
I wondered what Celeste and Alicia thought the next day when I declined a shopping excursion and lunch. Did they know? I had a pretty good hunch they did. I hung out upstairs with Nicholas most of the morning. Drew was quiet and worked in his office most of the morning. It wasn’t unusual for him to do that after an incident. He buried himself in his work, trying to hide behind distraction.
After laying Nicholas down for a nap, I went to Drew. I hated this. I hated the tension and the wall he placed between us. Opening the door, I walked around his desk without so much of a glance. I took the papers, saturated in graphs from his hands, and moved in front of him.
Drew wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his head in my lap. “Let’s go to the beach house next week,” he suggested without looking up.
Drew stood, crushing my mouth with his. I know it’s really messed up, but making love to Drew after one of his episodes brought us closer. The emotions, the feelings, and sensations shared between us were surreal. I don’t know how else to explain that. We became one.
Drew unbuttoned my shirt, kissed my bare shoulder, and slid the strap of my bra down my arm, exposing my breasts. He cupped them both, kissing and sucking his way down my chest, to my nipples and to my stomach.
“Lay back, baby,” he whispered.
Raising my hips, I let him slide me out of my pants. “You’re so fucking perfect, Morgan,” he said in a quiet lecture type voice, studying me with his eyes and caressing me with his hands. Letting my head drop over the desk, he wrapped his hand around my throat and slowly slid it down my trembling body.
“I love you,” he whispered, dropping to his chair. I couldn’t even say it back. I was having a hard enough time trying to remind myself to breathe. Knowing that his over qualified tongue was moments from my throbbing sex, I dropped my knee, opening myself for him.
Drew spread me more and ran his fingers up my wet folds. I shuttered and moaned, wanting more. Feeling myself being spread with his fingers, he held me open and sucked lightly on my throbbing nub. Drew sucked and licked while his finger violated my ass, moving in and out.
Just when I was right there, standing on edge, ready to topple over, he stopped. Ugh. I hated when he did that. I only hated it for a second. I forgot all about it when he stood and slid his rock hard cock into my throbbing pussy, and he began circling my clit with his thumb. I came so hard, I felt like I was falling. My walls constricted over and over around him as my world felt faint. Pumping faster and harder, Drew fell with me, dropping his body to mine.
“Tell me you love me, Morgan.”
“I love you, Drew,” I panted, coming down from a glorious high.
“Tell me I don’t deserve you, but you love me so much, you’re always going to be here.”
“Say it, Morgan. I need to hear you say it,” Drew begged desperately.
“You don’t deserve me, but I love you so much. I’m never going to leave you, Drew.”
“Drew. I promise.”
I remember that day like it was yesterday. There was so much desperation in his voice. Drew rarely showed emotion. He did that day. He showed more emotion than I’d ever seen from him. The despairing hold he had on me, the worry in his eyes, and the frightened tone scared me. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. Was he telling me that things would get worse? Was that why he needed me to promise him?
I could handle Drew, this Drew anyway. The amazing times we had together as a family outweighed the bad by tons. I don’t expect anyone to understand that. Any other normal female would have left a long time ago.
Drew never hit me once during my pregnancy. He never touched me until Nicholas was three months old. Alicia and I put together a little birthday party for Celeste, inviting a hand full of people. I got a little drunk that night and acted like a fool with Alicia. Celeste was laughing. Drew was not. It wasn’t like we were doing it while the other guests were there. It was only us four. Alicia changed the station to some hip-hop with a deep base beat.
We grinded into each other to deep thump, thump, thump. Alicia could move. I was impressed and laughed at her popping her hips. Thrusting the air while she tromped her feet, she held my hips, teaching me her trendy dance moves.
“Don’t be mad at me,” I whispered to Drew after the song. I could tell he was upset, but not that upset. He removed my arms from around his neck and gave me a look. Whatever. He was standing right there. It wasn’t like I was grinding all over some guy. It was Alicia for Christ sake. Well, hell. I wouldn’t be getting any tonight, and boy did I ever need it.
“What is your problem?” I asked Drew, sliding out of my heels. Ah, my toes loved me. I wasn’t even expecting it. I’d bent over rubbing my aching feet when I caught the blunt of Drew’s knuckles. I was stunned. I truly believed Drew would never hit me again. It had been so long, I rarely even thought about it.
“You like rubbing your pussy all over Alicia?” he asked, pulling me up by my hair.
“Drew, are you serious? We were just messing around. You were right there.”
“Shut up, Morgan. Don’t you fucking speak a word.”
I didn’t say another word. I was seeing the Drew that I hadn’t seen since before my accident; the Drew that terrified me. All I could think about was Nicholas. I was afraid he’d hurt me, like really hurt me, and I wouldn’t be there for him. What if he hit me hard enough to cause my brain to bleed again? What if I didn’t know my own son? I panicked, taking a step back. The tears fell on their own. I tried to hold them back. I didn’t want him to see me weak and crying.
“Do you see me, Drew? I’m right fucking here. Do you not see me?”
“, Morgan. Come here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” Thank god, he was back.
I cried in his chest as he stroked my back and kissed my head, apologizing over and over. Drew held me in his arms the entire night. I’m pretty sure he didn’t sleep at all. Every time I moved, he pulled me tighter, kissed my hair and whispered, “I love you.” He truly was sorry, and I forgave him.
The following morning he made amazing slow, love to me, and I forgave him—again.