"Are you wet enough?" He questions with hooded eyes.
I nod curtly. "Only the sound of your voice and my pussy jumps in excitement."
"Good. Turn around." He orders as both hands grip my waist, flipping me around before I can argue. "Sit on it and go...
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There's power in self reflection, to take a moment and look at how far you've come, how you have transformed into a better or a ridiculously worst version of yourself. To give yourself credit for conquering all your demons and waking from that nightmare.
As I stand by this window and try my best to self reflect, the only question that plagues my mind is, where have my head been in the past month?
I watch my wife as she trembles from the cold, I look at her and see how much damage I've done to her both physically, emotionally and mentally.
I ask myself how much of a monster I truly am to have done this to an innocent woman. The same woman I saw her pictures and felt the need to be close to; the same one I wanted to become my wife and I have an opportunity to have her as my wife but look what I've done to her.
What differentiates me now from the people I detest the most? The people who derive pleasure in hurting others?
The people who hurt me.
The people who hurt her.
I'm just the same as them. Those dark thoughts, they always catch up to me no matter how far away I try to run from them.
I had every opportunity to get to know my wife in the past month but I allowed anger and pride cloud my sense of reasoning. Shame is too little of a word to describe how I feel at this point. How I felt when I saw her attempting an escape.
I didn't think I'd feel so devastated if she left;
Only now did I realize.
My heart sank into my stomach when I found Mirabella trying to escape from me, but instead of talking it out with her, I allowed myself to act impulsively and pushed her out in the cold. All I can do now is watch her as she gets weak with each passing minute.
I can only watch because I'm a prideful bastard.
Fuck!
I'm just as fucked up.
I watch Mirabella intently as she gives up her struggle to be let into the house. She walks all the way to the front yard and lay down on the cold ground, probably surrendering herself to death.
What is more heart breaking is that she knows I'm watching her suffer. How does she feel right now? Does she hate me? Does she think me a monster?
There's so many questions flooding my mind.
As I attempt to step away from the window, my phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out to find my father calling.
I answer and we get into a deep, long, exhausting conversation; mostly about work. He tells me to return home as soon as I can because it is time for me to finally take over the mafia.
I and my father talk for what seem like hours until I totally forget that my wife is outside in the freezing cold.
"You should come with Annabella for the occasion," My father says in what seems like an order.
