The Abusive Husband & Me.

Chapter One.

Chapter One

I woke up the next day bright and early to get Taylor ready for his first day at school, Blake was still asleep so I padded into Taylor's room, he was also asleep, and sometimes Taylor can be so much like his dad. I sat on the bed and nudged him, Taylor groaned and turned the other way and continued to sleep, I nuzzled my nose in his cheek.

'No...' Taylor whined, wriggling out of my grasp. 'I don't wanna go to school' I laughed, I remember this being me when I was four; my mother did the same thing to me. I hadn't seen my parents since Taylor's third birthday; I rarely got to see them because they lived so far away. Blake wanted us to move somewhere far away from our family and friends so we can have a fresh start.

'I thought you were a big boy...big boys go to school, especially if they're almost five' I smiled; Taylor gasped and dashed into his bathroom to brush his teeth. I spread his clothes out on the bed, a purple polo shirt, jeans, white plimsoles and a grey cardigan. My little boy is growing up, he was the only company I had if Mandy wasn't here babysitting and now he's ready to grow up...really fast and I'll have no one, just Blake.

'April, get in here...now!' Blake's voice yelled from the room. I straightened out my pajamas; I hurried into the master bedroom. Blake was sitting on the bed with just a pair of linen pants on, showing of his athletic build.

'What's the matter, honey?' I asked, trying not to sound scared. Blake looked around the room and muttered something under his breathes. I stood waiting until he began to talk.

'I want a bacon sandwich for breakfast, make that apple and mango smoothie Taylor likes and put it in my portable cup and his one too. My shirt needs ironing...so hop to it' Blake demanded before disappearing into the walk-in closet. Great!-he's picking out my clothes. I checked on Taylor who was putting on his jeans and sprinted down the stairs and into the kitchen, I put the bacon to fry while I made the smoothie. I flipped the bacon over a few times and squeezed a bit of lemon juice on it to dilute the salty taste, and a hint of black pepper. I finished the sandwich and moved onto Taylor's lunch, chicken sandwich, a snack bar, crisps and the smoothie. When I finished everything I put Taylor and Blake's lunches on the centre cupboard before hurrying back up the stairs again.

'Everything is ready...your bacon sandwich is downstairs' I smiled at Blake who nodded appreciatively at me before placing a pair of heels on the floor. I went into the closet and ironed his shirt and handed it to him.

'Why are you smiling?' Blake demanded, snatching the shirt from me and putting it on. Why was I smiling? Oh yeah, because whenever Blake lays my clothes on the bed, it means I get to go out for the day and I get to drive!

'Can't a wife smile at her husband?' I questioned, smiling seductively but feeling insincere about it. Blake laughed and shook his head.

'Button up my shirt' Blake smiled mockingly at me. There were times when I loved Blake because of the way he'd make me feel and there were other times where I would hate his guts and I had to fight against the urge to strike him in his head.

I buttoned up the shirt all the way to the top button, Blake handed me his tie and I did it for him.

'Done' I sighed. 'I'll go get dressed and take Taylor to school on the way to the café' I went to the other side of the bed and got my towel and went into the shower room. The warm water beating on my skin felt so good.

I washed and conditioned my hair; I went back into the bedroom where Blake was tying his laces.

I quickly blow dried my hair, creamed my skin and put on my bra and underwear. Blake stood up and walked slowly over to me, unbuckling his belt...I quickly put on the grey vest and jeans that Blake put on the bed but it was too late. Blake had gotten to me; he hugged me from behind as I still tried to put my jeans on. Planting kisses on the back of my neck. 'Blake...you're going to be late for work' I said, bending down to put on my heels.