The first glimpse at the husband's true colors.

Thanks to my beta Fran and my prereaders Dani, Ariel, and Gemma.

With one final spritz against my skin, I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror. Black lace sleeves danced down my arms and rested on my wrists, the scalloped edges of the bottom and neckline of my dress delicate against smooth skin. It was Christmas, and we were minutes away from leaving for a holiday party at his parent's house. Everyone important to the family would be there, and I had gone with his mother to pick out the dress I now wore. I didn't want to make a bad impression, considering I knew how important the guests were to him and his parents, and the dress ended up being perfect for the occasion.

I hadn't felt this beautiful in so long. Maybe ever.

Rose had come over earlier to help me with my hair and makeup like she used to do when we were kids since Mom wasn't around to teach me little things like this. Rose enjoyed making me look fancy, but I mostly just enjoyed spending time with her.

My sister was my rock, and even though she was overwhelmed with her new role as caregiver, she made sure we never went without.

Watching her curl my hair today reminded me of when I was younger, getting ready for the prom or a new date. Of course, I was capable of doing it myself now, but when I had mentioned to her that the party was tonight, she jumped at the opportunity to come over and help me get ready.

As I looked myself over one last time, watching as the curls bounced against my shoulders, I thanked God again for being blessed with Rose as my sister.

I saw his reflection in the mirror.

I watched as his smile faded abruptly, his eyes casting down my body with what I thought was desire, but realized I was mistaken as he walked closer to me in our bedroom.

"This is what you're wearing?"

I didn't know why he would disapprove of the dress. It was conservative, to be respectful of the guests in attendance, yet the lace and the scalloped hem suggested personality.

I thought he would like it.

Maybe he didn't like how it transformed me into someone else; perhaps he saw the looks I was getting from the men at the party. Maybe he didn't like the way Rose and I had spent hours talking and laughing while we were getting ready.

I didn't know.

What I did find out was how much of a slut he thought I was later that night when he ripped the dress off me, the material tearing into the silence of the bedroom.

I found out a lot more about him that night, too.

See you tomorrow!