Emily woke with one of Bill's strong arms around her. It was a rare occurrence, since he barely spent his nights at home and when he did, he left without waking her.
The young woman turned in his grasp to look at the old butcher.
Age had changed the color of his hair and the tightness of his skin. His charisma and his power remained forever. In fact, if she was blind, Emily might've believed him to be immortal.
As she watched him, his eyes snapped open, looking all around the room before settling on his wife's face.
"Good morning, my dear," he said, in the same low gentle voice he used when talking to her.
"You're still here," Emily pointed out with a smile.
Bill nodded, the corners of his lips curling upward slightly. He was a busy man with things to do and people to visit. Emily knew where he spent most of his nights but she never protested or asked questions. Accepting that her husband knew best had always been the easiest path.
"I spend far too much time away from you," Bill said, "You might take a lover if I'm not more careful."
His eyes glittered teasingly.
"Don't be ridiculous," Emily smiled, placing her hands on his chest, "You're already more than I can handle."
Bill laughed and kissed her forehead. The night before, as with every night he spent with Emily, he had started out gentle and focused, growing more rough and animalistic as the night wore on but remaining thorough and giving.
Emily had a hunch that he treated all his other bedmates differently.
Bill sighed and sat up, his back to Emily.
"Will you stay for breakfast?" Emily asked him, already knowing his answer.
"No, I…" Bill stopped, "What is this?"
He grabbed a scrap of paper off of the nightstand and held it up to her.
She squinted at it and shrugged, pulling the sheets up over her naked breasts. "Just something some man was handing out by the docks. I didn't even look at it, just shoved it in my pocket and walked on by."
"You know I don't like the look of this, Emily," Bill said, "My own wife walking by the docks taking papers from strange men?"
His voice was calm but she had been married to him long enough to know that he was angry.
"I promise I was only walking by, Bill. I don't often go anywhere near the docks as I know how it upsets you," Emily said calmly, placing a hand on his shoulder.
He turned, grabbed her wrist and placed his face close to hers, nearly pressing their noses together. "You're my wife, Emily. And I love you, in my own way. But unlike you, I have not forgotten that you're the daughter of an Irishman, and I don't even trust you as far as I can throw you. Do as I say or you'll see just how far that is."
He released her with a push, got dressed quickly and took his leave.