Page 33 of The Marine

Including losing me.

I believed her.

I still...I have to believe her.

Aidan snaps my attention back to the present by putting a hand on my neck. Over my bruise.

“Did he do this? Your husband?” His voice is rough.

“Yes.”

“Fuck, Briar.” He shakes his head.

I know what he’s thinking. You married a violent man, just like your mother. Repeating the cycle.

He’s right.

Except Kael wasn’t always like that. Not until after we said our wedding vows. He was a gentleman and a charmer. Always buying me flowers and taking me out for dinner. I thought he was the one who would break me out of the cycle of my childhood, make me forget Aidan, and we would spend our life together.

I planned to love my children and provide them with a safe and happy home. One that I never had.

A year into our marriage—four years ago—everything changed.

I’d been out with Trina and Alice for a girl’s night and worn a new dress. I’d left before Kael got home from work.

I was a little drunk when I got home and snuck up the stairs, doing that exaggerated tiptoeing. Then began to giggle when I saw the light from the TV flickering in our room.

I’d been excited that Kael was awake so I could show him my dress. After all, it was him. I wanted him to find me beautiful, not any other man.

I did a twirl as I stepped into the room, but as our eyes met, I was greeted with an angry expression. He lifted the remote and turned the silent TV off.

“Are you okay?” I’d asked, thinking something was wrong.

The sheets flew back as the words, “The fuck are you wearing?” left his angry lips.

Confused, I glanced down at the red cocktail dress with its V-neck. Yes, it was deeper than I normally wore, but not overly revealing.

“It’s new. Don’t you like it?” I frowned.

“Oh yeah, I like it all right. As I’m sure every other fucking man out there did as they were staring at your tits.” He shoved down one of the straps and I jumped.

I tried to push it back up, but he slapped me.

Crying out in shock and pain, I cowered back against the wall and yelled at him to stop.

But he didn’t.

He slapped me again and again and again.

Then yanked me to up against him and pushed me down on the bed. That’s when he tore the dress and pulled down my panties.

Then raped me.

My own husband.

Still, to this day, it was the worst experience of my life. Like he stole a part of my soul.

Of course, as the days and weeks passed, I told myself that it was his right to have sex with me. I was his wife. I hadn’t said no.

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