Sherry's Story

Wedding Night From Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters connected with the graphic novel or movie Sin City and I’m not making any money from this piece of work.

Author’s Note: This chapter contains both consensual and non-consensual M/F situations. Please R&R!

lll

Almost as soon as Ben descended from the ramp, I was in his arms. I had missed him so much and my remorse for my actions with Richard made me hug him tighter.

“Hey, easy there, kiddo! You act like you haven’t seen me for a lifetime!” Ben protested.

“It feels like it,” I murmured into his tie.

“Well, I’m back now and with any luck, I won’t be going away anytime soon.”

“Let’s get married.”

Ben laughed. “But we are going to get married. Remember the ring I gave you?”

“No. I mean now. Today. As soon as humanly possible.” I pulled away, sensing reluctance on Ben’s part. “Don’t you want to get married?”

“Of course I do! And we will in a day or so when I get used to being on good ol’ USA time. I’m completely exhausted, honey. Seoul is a helluva long way from here.”

I swallowed my disappointment as bravely as I could. “Sure. That’s okay.”

Ben took my chin and raised it up so he could look into my eyes. “I mean that, Sherry. I am gonna marry you. But what about a big, splashy church wedding with all the trimmings? I thought all girls wanted that on their wedding day?”

“Not this one,” I said. “It wouldn’t matter to me if we got hitched by a Justice of the Peace.”

“Really?” Ben asked. “Sherry, why do I feel you’re hiding something from me?”

Damn! I cursed. Ben could read me like a book. To ally any suspicions he had, I ducked my head. “I’m just glad you’re home, that’s all. I haven’t been sleeping well lately but I think that will change when you’re beside me in bed tonight.”

Figuring Ben would be tired, I let him rest, despite the fact that my pussy was burning with desire for him. As soon as we got home, Ben undid his collar and yanked off his tie. “Now I can finally breathe without that damn noose around my neck,” he joked as he kicked off his shoes and put his feet up on the coffee table. I brought him a beer and he almost drank the whole thing at once. He belched loudly and looked sidelong at me, as if waiting for me to chastise him. Instead, I shook my head and laughed. I remembered all the times my dad had done the same thing. My mother told me countless times that all men burp and fart and feel very pleased with themselves afterwards. “It’s just a thing men do, sweetheart,” she’d said once.

I prepared a good meal for him—it took me most of the afternoon to do it. He yawned his way through only a few forkfuls before he pushed the plate away and said he was too tired. He tried to make it up to me later by telling me stories about what he’d seen in Seoul but I ignored his efforts to make conversation and he eventually stopped talking.

Ben went to bed early and I stayed up to watch the Late Movie. I was so horny, I hardly paid attention to what was on the screen. Around two, I went to bed. As soon as I had settled myself, Ben’s strong arms encircled my body. He spooned against me and I felt his cock twitch against my ass. I sighed, angry with myself for not masturbating earlier when I was watching the movie. Now I faced a long night with a wet pussy and a hard cock next to my ass. Because of Ben’s bulk, I was hanging onto the very edge of the bed and any wrong move would see me dumped on the floor.

I scowled when Ben’s hand reached over and caressed my breast, twiddling with my nipple until it was a hard peak. He was teasing me even in his sleep--it was too much! I was going to sleep on the sofa. I grabbed my pillow and was almost in a sitting up position when I felt my fiancé’s fingers against mine.

“Where are you goin’?” Ben whispered.

“The sofa,” I snapped.

Ben trailed his fingers up my arms. “Why are you gonna do that?”

I tried not to respond when I felt his hot lips against my neck. “Because I’m horny as hell, you’re hogging the damn bed and you hardly touched your damn dinner, that’s why!” My mother always told me that honesty was the best policy and at that moment, I was too pissed off to be diplomatic. I was going to say something else but with gentle persuasion, I was eased back until I was lying down. I felt Ben’s fingers reach my pussy and I immediately forgot everything else. They skimmed down the length of my slit, which was so wet by now, I was probably leaking onto the sheets.

“Damn kiddo, you weren’t kidding!” Ben chuckled in the darkness. I spread my legs and Ben immediately took advantage of the better access.

“Instead of laughing at me, why don’t you do something about it?” I snapped.

“Why didn’t you come to me earlier?” Ben countered.

“You said you were tired.”

“Tired? Hell, yeah I’m tired, but the only way I’ve ever gonna be too tired to fuck my best girl is when I’m dead.”

I suddenly felt a cold draft brush its icy tendrils across my skin and shuddered, dismissing the prophetic dream I’d had about Ben paying for murdering my stepfather. “Don’t say that.”

“What’s wrong?” Ben’s voice was tender and concerned.

“N…nothing,” I stammered. “I just got a chill, that’s all.”

“Well, I will never let it be said that I can’t keep you warm,” he said. Before I could breathe, my nightgown was in a pile on the floor and Ben’s heated skin was next to mine.

“I missed you so much,” I whispered, caressing his stubbly face in the darkness. I sighed when I felt his arms hold me closer. His cock was hard against my lower belly. He had said he was tired so I decided to do things a little different in bed.

I straddled my future husband, enjoying being on top, enjoying being the one in control. I felt a familiar stirring in my pussy and as my lust rose, I rode Ben harder. He answered my passion with his own, grunting and groaning with desire, thrusting hard into me, filling the deepest, most intimate place in my body. My pussy juices seemed to stream out in a never-ending flow, sliding down Ben’s cock and onto his groin, making the ride even more slippery and wet.

Ben’s hands settled at my hips, and with each thrust upwards, he brought me down against him, his cock spearing me at every movement. I ground my hips against him, making his cock go deeper than any man before him. There was a sharp twinge whenever his dick hit my cervix but it only heightened my pleasure.

I was getting close to my orgasm; as it raced closer to its peak, I increased my speed until I was bobbing up and down on Ben’s cock like a toy. Until that moment, I never knew what it meant to be a woman. I did now. It was as if my body were going through the motions up until this point in my life but it wasn’t until now that I felt truly alive. My sexuality was finally awake and it came out roaring.

Through a haze I heard Ben hiss sharply as my nails raked his chest and nipples but I couldn’t stop myself. Liquid fire raced along my skin, slithering down my spine and pooling in my cunt. For a few heart-stopping moments, I was teetering on the brink of absolute insanity. Like a roller coaster, I was suspended on the brink and it was only a moment or two before my orgasm came crashing down, taking me with it.

It seemed like as soon as I came down from one orgasm, another one leapt to take its place. Every nerve in my body was fused together in such an orgy of extended ecstasy, I remember wondering if I would die from the onslaught.

All my senses were swirling together. Taste, touch and smell became one confusing blur. I heard Ben reach his own climax but sensory overload became too much. I welcomed the oncoming rush of the black void.

The next thing I remember was the feel of a cold cloth being placed on my forehead. My body had not one once of strength left. It felt as if all my bones turned to rubber. I was too weak to even lift up my arm and take the cloth away. I moaned; it was the barest whisper but Ben heard it.

“Thank Christ! I’d thought you’d died or something!”

I smiled weakly. “You’re not getting rid of me that quickly.” With each breath I took, more strength returned to me. “But it would be one hell of a way to die! What happened?”

“Well, after you stopped thrashing around and screaming, you just slid off me like runny Jell-O. It was all I could do to catch you before you hit the floor. So how was it?”

I laughed when I heard the note of smugness in Ben’s tone. Like all men, he wanted to hear from my own lips that he’d just given me the best sex I’d ever had. In this case, it was true.

lll

The next morning during breakfast, I asked the question that had been burning inside of me ever since Richard told me that Ben had quit. “I heard that Roarke did something while you were together,” I began.

Ben’s face flushed in anger. “He sure did! That bastard found out that we were getting married and what does he do? He arranges for a hooker to come to my room in the middle of the night. I had gone to bed real late because of meetings and stuff and it was around three when I finally hit the sack. I was half-asleep and I feel a woman in bed next to me. I thought it was you and she started touching me and I….liked it.” An uncharacteristic blush darkened his features. He lowered his head and wouldn’t look at me.

I felt jealousy but I suppressed it. Who was I to be jealous after what I had done? It would serve me right if he’d cheated on me. I did what I did with my eyes open; if Ben had slept with her, it was only because of his exhaustion. What red-blooded man would resist the advances of an eager, pretty woman in his bed—especially if there were no strings attached?

Ben continued. “So she starts workin’ on me but I told her no. I’m gonna be a married man. My girl’s the only one who’ll ever be in my bed. She’s been faithful to me. I can’t cheat on her. I won’t cheat on her.” Little did he know his words were like a knife in my heart.

“What did you do?”

“I kicked her out of bed and if she really wanted to fuck a man, the Senator’s room was just down the hall. Once she was gone, I jerked off. You’re not mad at me, are you? Because you gotta know that if I’da known….I mean, I was half-asleep! I’m sorry if I’m hurting you by telling you this, I didn’t mean to but—and I’m not makin’ excuses here or nothin’—but men don’t always think with their heads, you know what I mean?”

In spite of the guilt I was feeling, I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Even at my age, I knew that men think with their dicks anyway. I nodded and stroked his age-worn face. “I understand Ben, I really do.”

His face brightened and he gave me a hug that took my breath away. As I clung to him, I felt guilt and remorse sweep over me. This man loved me so much that he paid thousands of dollars to set me free. I owed him my life, my soul. Everything I was or had, belonged to him.

lll

The ceremony at the Justice of The Peace’s office the next day was short and sweet and I won’t lie when I say that a quick five-minute ceremony in front of a JOP was not how I pictured my Special Day. No, like all girls, I had dreamed of a big church wedding, surrounded by family and friends, everyone smiling and crying, flashbulbs popping…a young man waiting for me at the altar. Instead, my wedding day found me in a plain white dress, no family or friends present to wish me luck, and the man who was now my husband was old enough to be my father.

I brushed tears of disappointment from my eyes. Old or not, I loved Ben with all my heart. I prayed that he would never find out…

lll

Home sweet home,” Ben said happily, as he carried me over the threshold.

With a sigh, I wrapped my arm around him “Pinch me, Ben,” I murmured as I buried my face into his shirtfronts. “Tell me this isn’t a dream. Tell me it’s real.”

“I’ll do more than just pinch you,” Ben whispered.

My head was spinning from the heated kiss he then delivered. His lips were so hot; they almost burned mine from the scorching kiss. I giggled. I reached up to remove his tie and opened two or three of his buttons. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where you going?” Ben asked.

He had followed me into the bedroom but I shooed him out. “Don’t come in until I tell you to.”

“Why?” he asked, a slow, sexy smile spreading over his face.

“Because I am about to put on something special that I bought from The Naughty Lady, and I don’t want you to see it yet, that’s why, “I teased.

Ben face lit up. “Is that that sexy shop I’ve heard so much about?” he said.

“It might be,” I said coyly. “But unless you leave me alone for a few minutes, then you’ll be sleeping on the sofa.”

“Not even a peek?” Ben asked, looking past me to the parcels and shopping bags that lay strewn on the bed.

“No. Now scram! Give me five minutes and then you can come in,” I said, finally succeeding on getting the room to myself. I sat on the bed and removed the white dress I had worn to the justice of the peace’s office. I sorted through the bags until I found the negligee that I wanted. It was a floor length red silk, the lace bodice clinging to my chest, outlining my firm breasts. As I was completing my dressing, I heard the sound of someone knocking on the apartment door followed by the sound of Ben saying something. There was a brief conversation between them. I tried to listen in but the walls were too thick.

I dabbed a bit of perfume behind my ears and between my breasts and laid back on the bed, waiting for my husband. Five, ten then fifteen minutes passed and Ben still did not come in. I got up and went to the living room. Ben was sitting on the floor, staring at something in front of him.

“Who was at the door?” I asked.

Ben did not answer. Instead, he pulled something from a thick envelope.

“What is that?” I asked.

“You tell me,” he growled. He was very angry but I couldn’t figure out why. “And it better be good. Look!”

It wasn’t until I got closer that I realized what it was. Spread out in front of him was photographs. Lots of them. For several heart-stopping seconds, I thought that someone had taken pictures of me giving a blowjob to Smedley.

But these were worse.

Each picture detailed exactly what had happened the night Richard had come over. Eating dinner. Drinking wine. Laughing inanely at each other’s jokes. And, last of all, snapshots of his head between my legs. It was obvious that I wasn’t being forced into anything; my hands were rooted deep in his hair, holding his head in an iron grip. Even a blind man could have seen the expression of bliss on my face.

Now it all made sense! Roarke was upset that Ben wanted to leave his service and this was his way of getting back at me. Perhaps it was even why he’d sent a prostitute to Ben’s room. Roarke sicced those investigators on me, telling them to get every piece of evidence they could, the more damning, the better. And they did.

I remembered the flashes of light that made my eyes hurt when I came that night. My orgasm had been so intense, I originally attributed the light to that. Only what I had seen weren’t stars—they were the flashes that are generated when a camera is used at night. Seeing the angle of the shots, it was obvious that the pictures had been taken from somewhere above the living room window.

“What…where did you get those?” I said.

“Does it fucking matter? For Chrissake, Sherry, tell me that this isn’t you. Tell me Richard forced you!”

Even though I was sorely tempted to lie to him, I didn’t. Ben was my husband now. No matter what, he deserved the truth. “Ben, I—I…”

Ben snarled and grabbed me by the throat. “I oughta kill you for cheating on me but I won’t. But you’ll wish I had.” For a large man, Ben could move quickly when he needed to. Before I had a chance to take a breath, his meaty hand clamped down hard on my shoulder and forced me into a kneeling position. It wasn’t until he began fumbling with his belt and zipper that I knew what he was going to do.

“No, Ben. Please. Not like this…not on our wedding night! ”

“Too fucking bad! Suck me off like the whore you are!”

Rape was no way to start a marriage. I knew that the Ben I fell in love with was still behind the mask of fury and betrayal that was looking down on me with hate and pain. His hands were gripping my head in a grip of iron. This was not oral sex. This was face fucking at its most brutal. He was forcing himself inside my mouth so hard and so deep that all I could do was gag as his dick hit the back of my throat with each thrust.

To my relief, Ben pulled out. I flopped back down onto the floor, coughing. But he wasn’t going to let me go that easily. Ben put his hands around my neck and started to squeeze. I could not even voice a protest; the best I could do was managing a hoarse croak that sounded barely human. “Please…”

“Please what, Sherry? Stop? Why should I do that, huh? That’s what you deserve for fucking Richard behind my back.”

At this point, my vision began to swum. Ben’s face faded in and out of my consciousness. I was fighting a losing battle to remain conscious. Even so, I knew--as Ben did not--that tears were falling from his eyes. “I loved you! I bought your contract and this is how you repay me? By sleeping with Richard the moment I’m out of sight? How could…?”

With one hard shove, I was down on the floor, lying on my back. He straddled my hips with his knees and pushed up my negligee so that it bunched up around my waist. He gave me no warning but shoved his cock into my body. It hurt so much, I was unable to utter one comprehensible word. I couldn’t even tell him to stop. I gasped and arched my back from the pain.

Gulping sobs racked his powerful body and his grip lessened around my throat as he succumbed to the grief of my betrayal. I could tell he was cumming because his thrusts were becoming harder and more erratic. With one final, violent shove, he pushed himself inside of me and rested his weight on his hands and knees until he got his breath back.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. By the time the words were out of my mouth, I knew I had just made a terrible mistake. Ben’s face took on a look of sheer rage, I was frightened.

“You slut,” Ben hissed.

Ben raised his arm, his hand clenched into a tight fist. Even though every part of my body and soul wanted to put my hand up to defend myself, I didn’t. For better or for worse, we were married. Ben had the right to hit me for what I had done with Richard. If he wanted to hit me, I would not stop him nor would I ask for mercy—I deserved none.

But the blow never came.

Ben got to his feet, pulling on his pants and shirt. He reached into his jacket pocket and threw some money at me. “This is for you. A whore who gives a man a fuck like that deserves to be paid well for it.”

He was giving me money! Like the commonest dirty street corner hooker, my husband was paying me for my services. Now I truly knew the meaning of the word whore. Because I was one. Even during the worst moments in my life, I never felt as worthless and cheap as I did now.

I ignored the money. “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

Ben slammed the door behind him with enough force to rattle the windows. I was alone. Every part of my body hurt so much; I could only drag myself to the sofa. For hours, I lay there, curled into a tight ball; waiting and hoping the pain would pass and Ben would come home.

The clock had barely struck two when the door opened and Ben staggered inside. I ran towards him and even from a distance of several feet, I could smell the alcohol and cheap perfume that emanated from his clothes. Ben grabbed me by the arm and dragged me off to the bedroom.

“Take off your clothes and get in bed,” Ben snarled but I was shaking so badly, I couldn’t even slide the peignoir from my body. My fiancé growled. “Let me. After all, a husband should do this for his wife. How appropriate that you chose red. Red is for whores, not decent, respectable wives, now is it?”

His words were dripping with sarcasm so I did not answer him, I was too afraid of inciting his anger again. He put his hands on the bodice and pulled. The thin fabric ripped with no difficulty. Once I was naked, Ben threw me on the bed.

I was feeling very afraid. Unwisely, I crossed my arms over my breasts to hide them from view.

“It’s too late to pretend to be shy, you know. A husband has the right to see his wife naked, especially on their wedding night, doesn’t he? Hell, you’ve been naked for Rich, right?”

I hardly had a chance to for a single thought before Ben was between my legs. I tried not to cry out when he pinched my nipples.

“Mine,” he said, his words slurring. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and kissed me hard, his teeth biting my lips until I tasted blood. “My lips.”

Tonight, our wedding night, I was seeing a side of Ben I hardly knew existed. Oh, he had told me that he had raped a woman, but until two hours ago, I never dreamed he was capable of doing that to me. He told me that he loved me. But every man has a limit. The pictures Roarke’s investigators had produced of Richard eating me was enough to drive him over the edge--into doing the unthinkable.

Ben ripped at his clothes until he was proudly standing naked in front of me. I was afraid, too afraid to look at him or notice what a fine body he had. My heart was pounding in my ears and my limbs seemed as if they were made of iron. I couldn’t move.

He grabbed my feet by the ankles and spread my legs as wide as they would go. His hands inched their way upward, his thumbs meeting at my pussy. I whimpered in fear when he touched me because my cunt was aching from his earlier assault. Ben knelt over me and positioned himself over my dry hole. I clutched at the bed sheets, desperately trying my best to brace myself for what was coming next. He pushed himself inside me to the hilt. “My cunt,” he snarled.

Ben pounded into me over and over again, each thrust becoming harder and harder. Against my will, I felt a climax building inside of me. I tried my best to hold it back but I couldn’t. It was as if my body had a mind and a will of its own. The pain from his earlier violation only made the pleasure that much greater.

With each thrust, he claimed me as his exclusive property, I loved him with every fibre of my being, and I almost lost him because of one incredibly stupid mistake. However, the pain heightened the ecstasy. I must have done something to alert Ben as to what was happening because he laughed harshly. “I knew it. Only a whore would like getting fucked into the mattress. Come for me, Sherry. Come now!”

Again, even though my mind tried to suppress it, my orgasm raced through my body. I could feel Ben’s cock thrusting into me and it was as if each stroke made me come again. I arched my neck and screamed, filling the four corners of our apartment with the sound of my ecstasy.

Suddenly, Ben stopped thrusting into me. I cried out in pain as I felt his cock leave my torn and bruised pussy. He flipped me over until I lay on my stomach. “Spread your legs,” he growled. “I ain’t gonna ask twice.” I obeyed.

He pried apart my ass cheeks with his strong hands. With sudden, horrible clarity, I knew what he was going to do. However, by now, I had lost the will to speak or even to fight back, because I knew that if I did, it would only make things worse. I bit into the pillow to hide the scream of pain when Ben pushed his dick to the hilt into my ass. “My ass,” he growled. “Sweet Jesus, you’re tight!” he groaned.

When a woman is afraid, and I mean really afraid, her body ceases to function. She can’t move or speak. All she can do is watch what is happening to her and listen to her heartbeat as her pulse pounds in her ears. It was as if I were suspended on the ceiling, looking down at the nightmare that was transpiring on the bed. I heard myself moan in pain as Ben reached under my body, wrenched, twisted my nipples, and sank his teeth into the sensitive flesh between my neck and shoulder. I heard Ben call me vile, filthy words; words that no man should ever say to the woman he loves.

However, I knew, as Ben did not, that he was crying. I could feel his entire body shake with each sob. I knew that he was cumming; his thrusts were getting harder and more erratic. With a great groan, he clutched me to him and I felt his cock shudder and twitch inside my ass he spurted inside of me, where, God knows, he shouldn’t have been.

He slumped forward, his entire body weight on me. He panted heavily and I could feel his sweat trickle from my back and onto the sheets. I cried out again when he pulled out of me but this time he was gentle. I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what was coming next. Emotionally and physically, I was completely numb.

Ben spread my legs and I automatically tensed, thinking he was going to rape me again. I tried to push him away but he held my hands. “I’m not gonna hurt you anymore, Sherry. Trust me.”

I gasped when I felt his hot breath on my pussy. He licked me gently and I relaxed, feeling the pain ebb away. Warmth spread from my pussy all over my body. I was coming to life again. My breathing hitched in my throat as he latched onto my clit and suckled me. I was brought to the edge of ecstasy then I was hurtled into a pit of never-ending pain when my husband stuck a finger inside of me. He did it tenderly but after his two rapes and my orgasm, my pussy couldn’t take any more—no matter how gentle he was.

I screamed, uncaring of the consequences and writhed away until I was on the other side of the bed. I drew my knees up until they were jammed under my chin. “NO! No more! Please!”

Instead of more pain, as I expected and feared, Ben took me into his arms. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya, kiddo. I reckon I’ve done enough of that.”

He carried me into the bathroom. He placed me on the floor and shortly after, I heard running water. As he did a lifetime ago on the night we met, he placed me into a warm bath and gently proceeded to wipe the cum and blood from my body.

This must have stirred a memory of how we first met in Ben because without warning, he burst into tears. He hunched his shoulders and buried his face in his hands, as sobs racked his body. “I’m no goddamn better than the Roarke’s,” he blubbered.

Even though I bore the pain and bruises of Ben’s repeated violations, I could not help but get angry. “How can you say that? You are ten times better…”

But Ben’s blood was up and he wouldn’t let me finish. “I AM THE SAME! Look at what I did to you, for Chrissake! You’re bleeding and bruised and ripped apart inside! God knows what damage I did…” Ben swiped a hand across his running nose before continuing. “When you were at the estate, you were taken, by brute force, in every hole a woman can be raped in. That’s exactly what I just did! How can you say I’m ten times better, huh?”

“Because you love me, that’s why. You hurt me because I hurt you and in my opinion, that is justifiable. What the Roarke men did to me was out of indifference and wanting to hear me scream in pain. To a woman, there’s a difference between the two.”

Ben did not answer; instead, he buried his face in his hands again and continued to sob. No force on earth could have stopped me from putting my arm around his shoulders. He needed someone to comfort him and what better person could do that than his wife? The vows I had taken earlier today included to have, to hold, to love and cherish. And to comfort. Our tears mingled together.

There was great irony in the fact that me, the one who was raped, was comforting my rapist. Even after what he’d done to me, I still loved him. I shushed him when he started to apologize; it wasn’t his fault. What I had done with Richard was unforgivable. Ben had exacted his own punishment and we were even. When he’d calmed down, I felt brave enough to ask a question; the answer for which I was dreading but had to know nonetheless.

“Where did you go tonight?”

“A whorehouse.”

I nodded. I’d guessed as much, judging by the reek of the perfume. I decided not to ask which whorehouse he had gone to—I didn’t want to know.

He sat on the edge of the tub, his hands dangling between his knees. “I went in there, and asked for the youngest, prettiest girl they had. We went to her room and kissed for a bit. I liked her. She started touching me and I got hard. Fast. But…I couldn’t do it. God knows I wanted to—she was lyin’ there all wet and ready…waiting. My cock was hard enough to cut diamonds, I wanted her so bad. But when it came down to it, I couldn’t fuck her.”

“Why do you think that was?”

“Dunno.”

“You could’ve, you know. No one would have grudged you.”

“Yeah, I know. I—I’m telling ya right now, Sherry. You ever do that again….Richard will be dead and you’ll have his blood on your hands. I won’t be made a fool of. I love you with all my heart but I won’t share you with anyone. I shouldn’t have to.”

There was justice in what he was saying. “You won’t.” But as Ben made a condition, I made one as well. “Because if you ever hurt me like that again, I won’t just lie there and take it. I know damn well I can’t fight back against you, but what I will do is take the sharpest knife we’ve got and kill myself.” I started shivering. It was delayed shock but even hot water wasn’t enough to get me warm. “Will you hold me until I fall asleep? I’m so tired.”

“I know, kiddo. I’ll sleep by you tonight but I think that I should stay on the sofa. And I’ll stay there until you say so, okay?”

I nodded my head. I needed time to heal and it would be better if we were apart. Ben gently hauled me out of the tub and rubbed me down. I was starting to warm up a bit but what I needed most was a big, fluffy comforter and a heavy nightgown of some sort. He picked me up in his arms again and put me down on the bed. I turned my face away from the red Olga gown that was ripped and lying in a silky heap beside the bed. When I put it on, I thought I’d experience the joy every bride feels on her wedding night. Instead, I had been brutalized by my own husband.

Ben saw what I was looking at and kicked it under the bed. I pretended not to notice. As Ben pulled out nightie after nightie from the dresser, he finally found one that was older and definitely something a bride would never wear on the first night of her married life. He pulled back the sheets and I froze as I saw the large splotch of blood on the sheets.

“Aw crap, let me take care of that,” Ben said. He stripped the bed and turned the mattress over. In less than five minutes, the bed was made. I raised my arms like a child and he eased the flannel nightgown over me, sliding down my body until I was covered from neck to ankles in the warm fabric before tucking me in.

He left me to go to the kitchen and he came back with a glass of brandy and some pills. “Now, I know what you’re thinking,” he said, “but these will only help you sleep. They’re not gonna get you addicted or nothing.”

I didn’t say a work but I took the pills and swallowed the brandy. It burned pleasantly as I swallowed it and I felt warmer. When I’d had enough, Ben took the glass away and tucked me in again before getting in on his side of the bed. I turned my back on him and curled into a fetal position.

All night long, we never said a word.