Chapter 2: Dinner

"Michaela?" he called out, promptly at five-thirty, as he walked through the door, boots heavy against the hardwood floors. He removed his hat and coat and placed them in the closet. The smell of food wafted in from the dining room. He felt the first tinges of annoyance running through him. She was probably finishing up setting the table.

She wasn't at the door to greet him with a kiss like she normally was. He shook his head, wondering why she sometimes deliberately provoked him to knock some sense into her pretty little head. For a woman that graduated at the top of her class in both college and medical school, she wasn't very bright when it came to her wifely duties.

"Running late," he mumbled. What the hell could be more important than having dinner ready for her family? She's just a housewife. She has nothing to do all day, he thought.

Inside the dining room, Michaela sat rigidly at the dinner table, her hands clutching her apron beneath the table. An uneasy quiver fluttered back and forth in her stomach. She had the inkling to rise and greet him, but she remembered that this wasn't going to be like every other night. And why should it be?

"Michaela?" She heard the aggravation in his voice, and her jaw clenched. She knew that if he had to call her more than twice without her answering, she would pay for it. Placing her hand on her stomach, she cleared her throat.

"I'm in the dining room," she called out, trying to force back the bitter tone in her voice. When he stepped in to see the table already set and food already served, he eyed her suspiciously and sat down.

"You didn't answer when I called for you."

"I didn't hear you, James. I was lost in thought." James smirked at her and took a sip of water.

"Where's my brandy?"

"You drank the last of it yesterday evening at dinner, remember?" James shook his head.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Michaela? The brandy must never run out here. I have important clients coming over for brandy tomorrow, and…"

"I'm sorry, darling," she quickly apologized. "Lee was very fussy today, and Julia took a long nap. Perhaps if we hired a maid…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Michaela. No good housewife needs a maid. Not even a wealthy one. You're a woman. You should have been trained from childhood how to balance your tasks. Honestly, I don't see how difficult it is to get your chores done."

"The children, James…"

"Julia's a good girl, and Lee isn't even crawling yet. I don't see the problem." Michaela stared angrily at him from across the table. She always bit her tongue when it came to discussions like this.

"Children are very demanding, James. I cannot drop everything and get your brandy. Lee has a schedule when he eats, and Julia…"

"I don't want to hear it, Michaela. You have no idea what it's like to go out into the real world and work." As a matter of fact, she did, but he didn't like to recall the fact that his wife had actually put such an embarrassment on her family when she became a doctor. Michaela was about to open her mouth to speak, but he decided to stop her. "So you were thinking, hmm? What could a housewife have to think about except for pleasing her husband and being prompt to greet him when he comes home from a long day at the office?" Michaela couldn't stop the glare she threw his way, but he wasn't paying attention. "Where are the children?"

"I sent them to my mother's for the evening. I thought we could use a little time together…to talk." The glance he gave her told her exactly what he was thinking, and the thought sickened her.

"Oh, I see," he smiled. "So it's one of those nights, is it? I'm glad you've come to realize that if you give in, I won't have to work so hard to get what I want. Perhaps luck will be on our side this evening. You know how much I've been wanting another son." He took a few bites of the roast she had prepared. "Did you put pepper in this?"

"Just a little, for seasoning. I thought it needed…"

"You know how pepper affects me, Michaela. Why do you deliberately try to make me mad at you? Do you like being punished? Is that it?" He let out a dry chuckle. "You must really enjoy it."

"No, James," she said quickly, seeing the anger flaring up in his eyes. He was like a stick of dynamite. He could explode at any moment after the slightest spark.

"You're trying to make me ill, aren't you?"

"No!" she quickly interjected. "I only wanted us to have a quiet evening at home…to talk. I've fixed it this same way dozens of times, and you've never said a word." She stood up and moved to his side of the table. "If you don't want it, don't eat it." Taken aback by her biting words, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her down into his lap. She gasped, and his grip grew tighter on her wrist. "James, please…"

"A quiet evening at home, you say? I suppose I can let the pepper go. Why don't you eat? The children aren't home, so you may eat with me." She nearly spat in his face at his words. When the children were home, he ate first, the children second, and she was left to finish off the rest. He told her it would be easier on her dishwashing that way. The only time she ate at her own accord was when James was at work, and she could sneak in a small lunch.

"I'm not very hungry tonight, James." That was a lie. In fact, she hadn't eaten since that morning, after he'd gone off to work. Her mind had been too busy planning what she was going to say to him.

"Are you ill?"

"No. No, I'm not," she replied. "In fact, that's what I was wanting to speak to you about."

"About your not being ill?"

"Well…well, I have some news." She swallowed hard.

"What news might this be?" he asked, his gaze moving down her neckline, as his fingers began to unbutton her dress.

"James, please," she whispered. "I need you to hear this." He hated it when she interrupted him, but he let her go, hoping this would pass quickly so they could get on with it. She stood and straightened herself up.

"I want to go back to the hospital…to work." He stood up quickly.

"What?"

"I was there earlier this afternoon with the children…speaking to an old colleague of my father's. He asked me to come to the hospital."

"Now I know you're lying to me. No man would ask a woman to be a doctor. You must be delusional." He laughed and pressed a wet kiss to her neck. She shuddered and resisted the urge to push him away.

"He asked me, because he knows of my skill, James. He said I was needed badly. They're understaffed, and—"

"It's out of the question."

"James…"

"You heard me, Michaela! No wife of mine is going to go to work. Your duty is here. Your duty is to me and those children!"

"Who's to say I can't work and be a wife and a mother?" James exhaled sharply, clenching his fork in his hand.

"Women's aren't made to handle so many obligations." The fire was beginning to rage inside of her now. She took a deep breath, her hands clenched at her sides.

"And I suppose men are?" She knew she was speaking inappropriately, or so she had been taught to believe. "I suppose men are built to be husbands, fathers, lawyers, and they still have time to warm someone else's bed at night?" As quickly as she'd said that, his hand came down hard across her cheek.

"How dare you speak that way to me, you worthless whore?" he asked, as her hand soothed the burn that flushed her cheek. "Your job is to cook for me and my children. Your job is to be my wife in every sense of the word. That means you greet me at the door like a good little wife. That means you don't ask questions when I want your affections. That means you obey me when I tell you that you are forbidden to work. You are forbidden to step back inside of that hospital, Michaela!" Her eyes were full of fury now. She couldn't stop herself.

"Worried someone will see the bruises?" He struck her again, this time knocking her back against the wall. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out.

"You forget your place. You forget that I'm your husband, and you have no right to speak to me that way!"

"I have every right!" she screamed back at him. "I'm your wife! I'm not your doormat. I'm not your plaything. I have every right to live my life the way I want to! You will not keep me from living anymore!" He came at her again, and she thought about telling him to stop for the baby's sake. But when she looked into those hate-filled eyes, she realized he had no right to even know about the child. It would only be another pawn in his little game. To him, it felt good to exert power over those around him. He would only use that child to further torture her and keep her in his life.

"You like being hit, don't you? Oh, Michaela, when I'm through with you, you won't even think about stepping foot inside of that hospital again."

"Don't threaten me. I've lived with it long enough. Too long."

"You've always had that fire, Michaela," he seethed, something changing in his eyes, as he grabbed onto her and pulled her to the floor. Her stomach quaked with fear and nausea, as his hot breath hit her face like a tidal wave. "You're a beautiful, sensual woman. I only wish you'd show that side of yourself to me again. I used to bring it out of you. You were so meek; so mild. Then I turned you into a woman desirable to all men. Only I know how sensual you really are." She tried to wriggle away from him, but he held her tight.

"That was before," she choked out, as his harsh kisses scraped against her face.

"Oh, but give me the chance. It can happen again." She closed her mouth, as he tried to kiss her, and she turned her head away. His body was heavy against hers, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the worst. She hated lovemaking now. Her only memories of their times together were of his brutal attacks and his constant demands. They were all she could afford to remember, because drudging up the happy memories were too painful. That was all over now.

Even after losing their first son, he'd demanded that she give him another right away. It had taken much longer to conceive Liam, and each month, when there was no pregnancy, he'd punish her, as if she had some control. He'd blame her, telling her she was doing something to prevent it. He'd even gone so far as to accuse her of having abortions or provoking him to beat her until she had a secret miscarriage. He'd been out of his mind, but she'd been too afraid to leave, too afraid to stay, too afraid to do anything. So, she had lived in constant fear for the past few years, and now…now she was finished.

"No! Get off of me!" she screamed, as if something had snapped. "Get off!" She began pushing against him; pounding against his chest. "Stop!"

"Don't tell me to stop, you little bitch!" he growled, yanking at the top of her dress, popping off buttons and clawing at her, leaving scratch marks, and little droplets of blood raising up from the depths.

"Stop! Don't! No, you're hurting me!"

"I'm teaching you a lesson," he insisted, as he pinned her arms back against the floor, straddling her and sneering, as he towered over her.

"I'll leave," she spat, trying to kick him. He leaned on her legs to stop her from moving. She cried out in pain. He laughed at the thought of her leaving, while he had her so easily pinned beneath him.

"You'll never leave me. You made a vow. You'd never leave, because if you did, you'd never see those children again."

"Don't you dare try to keep me from my children!" she screamed.

"Oh, but I will, Michaela. You forget that I'm a powerful man. When I want something to happen, it'll happen. Right now, I want you to act like my wife, and if you don't start soon, I'll force you." She spat in his face, causing him to growl out and place his hands on her neck, pulling her head up and slamming it back against the wooden floor. She cried out in pain, and she rolled into her side, getting just enough room to kick him away. She tried to get up. He stumbled backward, and he came at her again. "You won't leave. I'll kill you first!" he screamed, as he came at her.

"No!" she called out, clawing her way away from him and pulling herself to her feet. He was chasing her now. She was running away. She was running away from the sake of her children. But, she felt his arms wrap around her and pull her back to the floor. His fist connected first with her jaw and then with her eye. The more she struggled, the harder he hit, until she felt him move away from her. She was bleeding, that she knew, but she couldn't move. She felt like she was falling, and then, everything went black. The last thing she heard before she fell into darkness was James Laurie screaming her name.