Callie walked into her bedroom only to find her husband lying on her bed, flicking his wand around. He looked up as she walked in and snarled. She shook her head, sighing.
"I've warned you Tom, I-"
"HOW MANY TIMES? That is not my name!" he barked.
"I am NOT your follower, I am your wife!" she shouted, holding back tears. "Stop trying to treat me like you do your Death Eaters." She spat the last two words, then sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm your family, your friend." She said gently.
"I don't need family, or friends." He snorted. "Just because you know I'll never get rid of you, does NOT give you the right to humiliate me in front of a new follower! How DARE you?" He sat up.
"I am NOT a Death Eater, Tom, and nor will Charlie be. I won't let you do that to her, you can't ruin her life, she's not strong enough for that kind of life, she-" the tears were streaming now.
"She's my child as much as yours, Black, she will follow ME!"
"DON'T CALL ME BLACK, I'M YOUR WIFE, TOM!"
"DON'T CALL ME TOM!" he slapped her, hard, making her fall onto her back.
She stared at him, shocked. "Seventeen years I've had to raise your daughter, living no life at all, having my last memories of you horrible, evil ones. Have you never loved me, Tom, are you not capable of it anymore? Do you only feel hate, how I've tried to hate you all these years, always failing because I love you, and I've never stopped loving you, even now?" she was sobbing now, out of breath, tears falling on the bed cover.
He stared, not knowing what to say. Then without warning, he kissed her, hungrily. Seventeen years of pent-up sexual frustration channelled into the evening, until they fell asleep side by side in their marital bed, leaving Charlie covering her ears with the pillow in the next room.
When Callie woke the next morning, he was gone.