He sl:apped me so hard my lip bl:ed, just because I asked where he was last night. At dawn, I quietly cooked a massive Southern feast and laid out the silver cutlery. “That’s a good wife,”
“Don’t question me in my own house,” he said coldly. His own house. That almost made me laugh. I pressed two fingers to my mouth and looked down as they came away red. Marcus watched closely, waiting for the usual reaction. Tears. Trembling. Apologies. That small, frightened voice I had learned to use just…
