DISCLAIMER – CHARACTERS BELONG TO STEPHENIE MEYER!
ESME'S POV
Columbus, Ohio/2013
Friday & Saturday
"Honey, I'm home!" I looked up from the pasta that I was making and smiled as my husband's voice echoed through the house.
"In the kitchen!" I called back. I was waiting patiently so I could give him a 'welcome home' kiss.
I turned from the stove as his footsteps walked through the house. He came into the wonderfully smelling kitchen, and his face broke into a toothy smile. I flitted towards him as I swung the dish towel onto my right shoulder.
I playfully trapped his face between my hands. His stubble was rough against my hands as I got up onto my tippy toes. He helped me by leaning down and connecting his lips to mine. His were dry and slightly rough, but I didn't mind. We love each other, and that's all that matters.
That's all that should matter.
"How was work?" I asked as I pulled away once I heard the water boiling again. I grabbed a spoon and started stirring until it calmed down.
"Work was...quite boring. Not busy at all," he said. I turned back to him after placing the spoon down on the counter. He was tugging on his tie and removing his suit coat at the same time.
I chuckled as he struggled. I went back to him and removed his hand from his tie. He smiled gently down at me as he removed his suit coat. I loosened his tie.
"Thanks," he said. He kissed me on the forehead before going upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing.
I turned back around and stirred the pasta around some more before grabbing the strainer from under the stove. I drained the water before grabbing the sauce from the fridge.
I was placing the steaming food on the table when he came back down. I looked at him, smiling as he came towards me in only sweatpants. His bare feet slapped against the tiled floor.
"Well, don't you look comfy," I said, looking him over. My cheeks warmed as my wondering eyes paused on his naked torso.
He placed his finger under my chin and made me look up into his light gray eyes.
"I love you, Esme," he said as he leaned his head down, bringing his face closer to mine.
"I love you too, Charles," I replied in a soft whisper.
Our lips met a little roughly.
I awoke from my sadly too good to be true dream. My eyes opened at the sound of the bedroom door opening. It hit the wall with a startling bang.
I rolled over and looked at Charles. He was leaning against the door jamb, staring at me. I could barely see anything in the dark. The blinds were closed, and he obviously didn't bother to turn on the hallway light on his way up.
I could smell the alcohol from here.
I sat up, letting the quilt fall from my chest.
"Esme, I'm gonna have sex with y-you," he stuttered through his drunken haze.
My heart picked up its pace. I took a deep breath to try to calm myself down. I had to try to change his mind.
Try, I told myself. I wasn't even close to being tired any more.
"Charles, you're drunk. Please, honey, just come to bed and get a good sleep. You need it," I said. He has been going to work early and coming home late. I'm sure he went out with some friends to have some fun. He never called and told me. He never has before.
"No! No, no, no, no. Why don't you love me? I l-love you!" He said. His voice was getting louder. I cringed as I tried to think of something to say to his drunken words.
"I do love you. Come to bed, sweetie," I urged. I grabbed the corner of the quilt on his side of the bed and pulled it back. It was light enough that he could see me nod down to his spot.
"I'm not tired. I wanna be inside you." I swallowed hard at his last words. The slurring made me feel shaky as goose bumps rose all over my body.
"Charles..." I trailed off. I should know by now that if I keep going, he'll just end up beating on me and then take what he wants.
I felt proud of myself for trying though. I knew that if he was sober, I would have bruises forming on my face right then. The last time I talked back to him, bruises covered my stomach, neck, and face.
I almost moved away when his tall form walked towards the bed. He slammed the door behind him. I dug my nails into the mattress, keeping myself in place.
I let out a shaky breath as his cold finger tips skimmed my bare shoulder. He toyed with the strap of my tank top. I wanted to curl up into a ball then and fall asleep again. I wanted to have the good dream again.
He grunted as he got on the bed. I held in a moan as he rolled on top of me. He rubbed his hand all over me, paying extra attention to my breasts until it became painful.
There is no pleasure when it comes to Charles.
Never.
I closed my eyes as the tears welled up in my eyes. Charles dress shirt, tie, and pants hit the ground as he undressed in a clumsy matter. I stopped myself from fighting when he tugged my pajama pants down to my thighs. I placed my hand over my mouth to keep from making any noise now that tears were streaming down my face.
"So nice," he mumbled as he removed my underwear. He reached down with heavy breathing as he quickly removed his. His freezing cold hands pressed on the inside of my knees, pushing them apart so he could settle himself in between them.
"Damn," he moaned as he slowly thrust into me. I clenched my legs against his side. It was one of the worst pains. Even worse when he did this bone dry. He would be yelling at me and getting angry if he was sober. He hated when I wasn't...ready for him.
"You're so warm, you k-know that? S-so snug a-and tight." It made my throat feet tight when he talked like that. I hated how he talked like that. I hated when he was drunk!
I let a small cry escape as he moved over me. He was too far gone to care as he pressed his face into my neck. His stubble was almost painful, and his hot breath made my skin crawl.
His hand gripped my upper arms. The blood flow felt like it stopped in my arms. I tugged on my arms, and his hands drifted down to my hips.
He gripped them harder than he did my arms.
"Esme, Esme, Esme, Esme," he chanted. To hear my name falling from his mouth made me want to cry even more. I wiped my tears away and gripped his shoulders, clenching my eyes closed. I waited until he finished. I couldn't wait much longer. It would be a relief when he rolled off of me and went straight to sleep.
Just like most nights.
His panting picked up, along with his hips, and he lifted his face from my neck. I looked up at him as he looked down at me with a clenched jaw.
"Fuck. Mmmm, shit!" He called out as he gave an extra hard thrust. I gasp and dug my nails into his shoulders and back as he held himself against me. I hated the feeling as he finished inside me. New tears fell as he relaxed against me.
I don't even know what he was talking about as he half crawled, half rolled off of me. I was sore as I closed my legs and gripped the quilt closer to me. I rolled over and stifled my sobbing into the pillow.
It was a slight relief as Charles snores ventured into my ears.
I know you're wondering why I even put up with this. I do because if I don't, he'll kill me. He'll kill me in cold blood. He'll kill me because he needs me in the most complicated way. I can't even explain it.
I sniffled and wiped my tears away. I cuddled into the bed more, closing my eyes and taking deep, slow breaths.
Just sleep, and everything will be fine for a couple of hours. Only a couple.
My thoughts were lost as I fell asleep. No dreams invaded my thoughts sadly.
I was quiet as I got out of bed in the morning. It hurt between my legs, but it's nothing I haven't felt before because of Charles. I pulled my underwear and pajama pants back on. I stepped over his clothes as I quickly, but quietly, walked to the bedroom door.
I looked back at Charles as the morning sun came in through the side of the blinds. His dirty blond hair was wild. His face was pressed into the pillow. I'm not even sure how he was managing to breath as his back moved with each inhale and exhale.
I wish he always looked that peaceful.
I closed the door behind me and went down the stairs. I went to the kitchen and instantly started to make some toast and eggs. Maybe he won't be as mad if I make him his favorite breakfast. He's always angry when he wakes up in the morning with a hangover.
Like it's my fault.
I sighed and finished with the breakfast. I placed the eggs on the toast, careful not to break the yoke. It made my stomach clench to think of the last time that I had accidentally broke the yoke. It almost made me physically hurt to even think about it.
I set the plate down on the table and looked around, not sure what to do. I still had to get dressed and brush out my hair. I had to go grocery shopping as well.
The thought came quick, and I almost wanted to pat myself on the back for thinking it.
I went to the living room and turned on the TV. I made sure the volume was on low as I went to the guide.
It was a boxing marathon!
I could hear my blood rushing through me.
All day. Boxing shows after boxing shows.
I didn't let tears come this time.
My head snapped to the stairs as I heard the bedroom door open. I shut the TV off and listened as the bathroom door shut.
I moved my hair out of my face and moved back into the kitchen as Charles was coming down the stairs in just his boxers. He looked at me and sneered.
His eyes were bloodshot. He had his hands planted against the wall with his crazy hair sticking up in all directions. A beard and mustache was starting on him.
I would tell him to shave it, but I'd like to keep the injuries away for today...or for at least as long as I can.
"Good morning," I said quietly. He put a hand to his head and groaned. I quickly filled a glass with some cold water and grabbed two aspirin pills from out of the cupboard.
I tentatively placed the glass of water in front of his plate. I set the pills down beside it as he sat down and started eating.
He completely ignored me.
I swallowed and backed away. His gray eyes flickered up to my face as he chewed slowly. I froze and held my breath instinctively.
His looked down at the table, looking around it. His face was blank as he swallowed his food.
Something's going to happen. I just know something bad is going to happen, I kept chanting in my head as I fiddled my fingers together in front of me.
He brought his hard eyes back up to mine as he popped the pills in his mouth. His took big gulps of the water until the glass was empty.
He's never this calm. I marked the things down in my head as I looked at the table.
His favorite breakfast, a glass of cold water, and two aspirin pills. Did I really forget something? Panic consumed me. I let out the breath in a rush. The breath I was holding.
He slowly pushed the chair back. My ears rang as the wood screeched against the linoleum tiles. He stood up slowly and stretched his arms up above his head.
He didn't even finish his breakfast. He always finishes his breakfast when it's eggs on toast. I took a step back without knowing it.
I looked around the table once again.
What's missing?
I was becoming terrified and frustrated as he came towards me with long strides. His gray eyes were angry and his lips were set in a straight line.
"Where's my COFFEE?!"
My heart sunk down to my stomach. It felt like someone dumped ice cold water onto my head.
How could I have forgotten the coffee? He loves coffee.
"I am so sor-"
I cried as his hand slapped my face. I barely registered it before his hand back handed my other cheek. I swung around and fell on my hands and knees.
"So useless!" He bellowed. My face stung, but new pain rose when his bare foot sunk into my stomach. The air rushed out of me as I fell onto my side, placing my arms over my head, and attempting to curl my legs in to stop his kicks.
"AH!" I screamed as his foot hit the right side of my ribs. It was a pressured pain as I rolled onto my back and pressed my hand into my ribs. It hurt as I panted. Tears fell down my face and onto the floor as I looked up at my husband with blurry eyes.
"Little bitch! Why did you forget? Huh? TELL ME!" He raged. He crouched down and got in my face, gripping my jaw painfully in his large hand. I couldn't talk through my tears and dry mouth.
"You just wait. One day, you'll make one of your stupid mistakes, and you'll push me over the edge. You'll end up six feet under!" There was only promise in his voice as he stood up, pushing my face away.
He slid the plate off the table, shattering the plate and getting yoke all over the floor. He looked down at me in disgust.
"I'll never understand why I married you," he mumbled as he wiped his hands down on his boxers. He shot me one more glare before heading into the living room.
The sound of yelling and fighting found me. He's watching boxing. I know that's where he gets his moves from.
Hearing boxing puts a lump in my throat.
I bit my bottom lip as I rolled over onto my left side. I let out short, quick breaths as I got up with my hand still pressed into my ribs.
I knew I had to clean up the mess. Charles would make sure I wouldn't even be able to stand up if I didn't.
It was a funny feeling pain as I crouched down to clean up the mess with the dust pan. I got it all in the garbage in about two minutes.
I groaned as I leaned against the counter. I pressed my hand back into my rib and flinched. I lifted my shirt up gently and looked down.
No bruises? How?
It hurt as I took a deep breath. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I fought them back.
A cracked rib perhaps?
I put my shirt back down and sighed. It hurt slightly.
I peeked into the living room to make sure Charles was still there. You never know where he could be.
He was in his recliner, head back and mouth wide open as he snored loudly.
It was almost comical.
I went up the stairs and headed into our room. To get into a blouse and jeans was painful, and took much longer than usual. It hurt to move my right arm up or back, which I had to do to get the light purple blouse on in the first place.
Won't I have to go to the hospital? I don't want to risk Charles seeing the hospital bill then if I did. He rarely looks at any of the bills that come in the mail, but you never know.
I shook my head and left the room quickly.
I stared at myself in the mirror as I brushed my caramel hair. It went just passed my shoulders. I had cut it a while ago...just to make it harder for Charles to grab.
I stared at the light bruise that was forming on my left cheekbone from when Charles had back handed me in the kitchen. I skimmed my fingers over it and frowned.
I suddenly wanted a hug from my dad. His hugs weren't too tight, and they were comforting and warm.
I haven't seen my parents in five months.
So long.
"Esme?"
I jumped and dropped the brush at the sudden sound of Charles voice. I held my breath as I bent down and picked up the brush from the carpet. The pain wasn't as bad when I held my breath. It just put more pressure.
I opened the bathroom door and looked down the stairs. Charles stood at the bottom in jeans and a black sweater. He had his car keys in his hands.
I didn't even hear him come up the stairs to get dressed finally.
I didn't dare talk as he looked up at me. His eyes roamed my body before his eyes returned back to mine. I shuddered and bit my tongue.
"I'm going out...to my parents house for a while," he said. He looked away from me as he said it. I shifted my feet and nodded.
"All right," I said quietly. He looked at me again before heading out the front door in a hurry.
He never tells me where he's going...
I stood at the top of the stairs a little longer, my head spinning. I was shocked to say the least. Charles leaves the house silently. I can't remember the last time that he has told me where he's going...he seemed nervous as well.
At least he's gone for now. I sighed a painful sigh and headed back into the bathroom with some weight lifted off my shoulders.
I will put the next chapter up next Saturday if I can get 10 reviews or more. c:
I know you guys can do it. This is my first story, so I'm not positive if this is even good. I will have a schedule going once the second chapter is up.
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