The timer goes off so I rise from my chair, leaving my wine glass on the side and turning the heat off of the large pot I had been cooking in, ensuring that each serving has the same amount I leave it on the side my eyes darting to the clock. Waiting.
Tom hadn't hurt me as much this week, he didn't even touch me yesterday and I knew exactly why; we were having company this weekend. Every so often his colleagues would come over to our house or we would go to theirs for a company dinner, this would last for two days; one day at the selected hosts home, the next at a restaurant. Even though he bragged to them about his treatment of me he always made sure I had no marks on me at all when I would see them, I had to be perfect.
Tonight they were coming over and I had everything set out perfectly, as always. As it reaches five minutes before five I get into action, taking each plate and bringing them into the dining room until every place is filled, the glassware and cutlery laid out meticulously. I had an array of drinks in the kitchen to cater to everyone's needs, I had everything perfect and right on time - 5 o'clock.
When me and Tom had gotten married I had picked up numerous books titled 'The Good Wife's Guide' and various other guides to be the perfect wife, I had read every page repeatedly, polishing up my skills as I educated myself on how to be the perfect wife. I am proud to say I have carried out almost every rule there is to the letter for four years now.
I had dinner on the table by five everyday the time he was supposed to be home from work, even if he didn't come home I would ensure his meal would be warmed for him as soon as he arrived. The house would be spotless for him to come home to, no speck of dust or dirt can be found in my home and everything is always in it's correct place.
The only rule I still had difficulty following was always greeting him with a smile when he came home and not asking why he's late or where he was - even though I knew exactly what he was doing I always wanted to hear him say it or I would go crazy.
I don't understand why he doesn't love me. I try to be the perfect wife, I am the perfect wife, I do everything for him but it's not enough it seems.
I hear cars pulling up into our drive and I go to the door, checking myself in the mirror I ensure my outfit is pristine, every hair in place, my makeup faultless. The smile comes onto my face as I open the door greeting everyone, my husband first I place a kiss on his cheek before he can reject it and I remove his jacket for him "Hello darling," I say, keeping my smile in place even though I can smell some whore's cheap perfume on him - I won't bring it up, not tonight.
His colleagues come in and I greet them all, taking jackets "Hello gentleman you look very handsome tonight" I tell them "Mrs Black, a pleasure to see you again." James says, taking my hand to kiss the back of it - just like Tom used to do. "You look gorgeous as always" Silas tells me, bringing me into his body as he grips my waist head dipping down so he drags his lips across my bare neck - the place where a wolf would lay their mark.
I know not to show him how uncomfortable this makes me, I have to act perfect at all times when Tom's colleagues are around. If I keep the guests happy Tom is happy, and that is all I want.
The other men come in some with their wives, some without and as dinner goes underway I am their server for the night. When their courses are served I'm sent to the kitchen, only allowed back when they've finished.
Sitting at the table in the kitchen I look outside into the garden, the Moon once again hiding behind clouds so I just see a glimpse of Her. Holding my fourth wine glass up in the air "Fuck you" I tell Her, downing the contents and quickly pouring another.
I hear the hearty chuckles and chat of everyone in the dining room; so pack-like, whilst I am here alone.
Approaching footsteps have me leaping from the table, stashing the almost empty wine bottle in a cupboard, the wine glass next to it so I can finish it later I turn around, standing upright. "Corinna, thank you for the lovely dinner" Steven tells me, motioning me forward which I comply to knowing these are Tom's guests.
He has his arms around me, breath scented with strong alcohol greeting my senses as he kisses my cheek, hands now resting just above my backside. "A beautiful woman you have here Tom, you lucky bastard" he says, removing himself from me as I give him my good wife smile.
More drunken exchanges occur with Tom's colleagues putting their hands all over me, whispering dirty things in my ear - every one of them make me want to vomit but all I do is smile for them, for Tom who just watches on laughing with them.
Tom ushers everyone out as I bid farewell to them at the door, he goes to the cabinet in our hallway, unlocking a drawer and grabbing a stash of bills as I swallow the lump in my throat knowing where those dollar bills will be stashed soon, down some hooker's tits and ass as they dance for my male, sit on his lap, touch him - and I know he welcomes it all, often bringing two or more of them back here fucking them whilst I'm in the garden, sat outside in the cold with pathetic tears streaming down my cheeks asking Her questions I know I don't deserve the answer to, I don't deserve anything from Her.
I turned my back on Her and must suffer the consequences, She is purposefully making my life horrible, punishing me - but I will put up with anything she throws at me because to me Tom is worth it.
I love him
Despite his infidelity, his abuse - I love the bones of this man, he is my true mate I know he is. Once upon a time he felt the same I remember him telling me that he thought I was his mate as everything was right with us, it seemed so, so right.
When he'd found out about my mate, that I had left my true mate for him he was angry he told me to go back to my mate because I would eventually do that anyway - he thought I would leave him for Adonis. That was one of his issues; his insecurity.
He had always been shy, from the moment I'd met him and I loved it; blushing if I would compliment him or if our hands would brush against each others, or when he'd try to subtly put his arm around me or hold my hand and I would give him a look with my brow raised which would make him burn red.
But his shyness would then lead to insecurity, he would tell me other guys would look at me, flirt with me and he was too wary of confronting them. I of course, hated that he had felt like that, immediately shutting those guys down telling them to leave and I would make a show to Tom; kissing him, hugging him, touching him and telling him "I love you, you are the only male for me".
When he found out about my mate I knew a wall had come up, he didn't want me to hurt him so he started to shut me out. Then his work was getting stressful, as he was getting promoted higher and higher until he was surrounded by alcoholics who threw their money around on whores, who beat their wives, who cheated on their partners to feel even more powerful than they were, they do it because they can.
The first function he had brought me to was just a week after we had wed, and all of his colleagues were hounding me telling me I was beautiful, sexy, exotic and then touching me in places only Tom had ever touched me. Tom was outraged, but back then he would stew in his own rage so he made an excuse and we left - no words spoken about that night.
The next day he came home shouting, his knuckles cut up telling me how his coworkers were bragging about abusing their wives and cheating on them, then asking Tom how many had he cheated on me with, have you broken one of her bones yet, even giving him tips on how to break bones easier, what spots to hit that would get me screaming for mercy.
The day after his outburst he had come home again face flamed in fury as he told me they were willing to pay him so they could have sex with me. I had told him to calm down, tried to soothe him but he was blinded by anger so much he had suddenly turned on me and smacked me so hard I had been knocked to the floor, both of us were silenced as we realised what had just happened.
And then, we cried.
He was on his knees telling me he was sorry, begging for my forgiveness and I was telling him it was my fault for pestering him, I should've gotten out of the way - that was the one and only time he had apologised for hurting me as the abuse just increased day after day.
At the time he had said it was disgusting, he couldn't believe what sick bastards he worked with he told me but only two weeks later he had me on the floor laying limp after his first proper beating, my skin black and blue, blood oozing out of me, broken arm at an awkward angle with the bone sticking out as I cried, hearing him with the first of his whores.
