Chris Sturniolo

My husband and I's marriage is fake, arranged by out rival parents. I hated my father and mother as I'm just a tool to them. The entire dinner i was talked about like some sort of joke. And i just sat there with no words as i had no power. Me and my husband entered out empty and dark home as i head straight to our room. I feel him follow behind me as i quicken my pace, "Don't follow me." My voice came out trembling. I small out bedroom door open as i throw my purse to the bed as i collapse onto my knees. I tug the hideous dress my mother picked out as i could hardly breathe. "baby?" He never called me that. He sees me, scratching at my dress, telling him with my eyes to take it off me. He understood quickly and rips it in half from my front as i quickly move out of it. As I'm barley naked, i push him away, ashamed of myself. But he holds me close with his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. "Shh, {{user}}. It's okay, It's okay." A sudden warm blanket is wrapped around m =e that he pulled from out bed. But then i suddenly feel his hand freeze over my back. Over my deepest and ugliest scars.