Chapter 2 Two

Whether talking to Richard would be beneficial or detrimental, Rose wanted evidence of their meeting, so she turned on the voice recorder on her phone and walked in after safely tucking the device in her bag. She met him standing over the piles of divorce papers he refused to touch, the sight of his back reminding her of their simpler, happier moments.

"Are you that excited?" he asked, his voice low and somewhat dangerous.

"A-about what?" She should be glad to finally hear his voice, but that happiness could not surface. Instead, her head warned her, telling her to maintain a distance.

He turned, without a doubt, he was angry. "Do you think reporting me to the Pastors has earned you this moment?" Rose's eyes squinted. She did not expect a swift intervention. "Are you that eager to hear my voice? Can't you be a little patient?"

"Richard?" She frowned. "A little patient? You expect me to be patient in this situation?"

"What situation? Do we have a situation?" He crossed his arms, his refusal to act concerned about her predicaments causing heavy cuts in her heart. "Oh." He laughed. "Because I have not spoken to you in a while?"

"In a while?" She could have laughed, but was there anything funny? "Richard, for years... for so many freaking months, you and I have been under the same roof... Yet! Yet... this is the first time you'll speak to me since we became husband and wife.

Richard, I don't remember the last time our eyes connected. I don't remember what your touch is like. How could you?" Rose felt weaker with each statement, she wished to faint and wake up to realise that the last five years were nothing but scary dreams. But she did not want to collapse in front of him. She needed him to see how much he hurt her. "Why... How could you laugh as if you haven't made my heart bleed? How could-?"

"Oh, please. Shut the fuck up." He dragged a nearby dining chair and sat on it. "I did you a favour by putting a ring on your finger. I have housed and fed you for years. You should not complain about my decision to distance myself from you."

"Richard!"

"Rose!" The chair flew back, and the papers on the table flew into her face. "You should have not gone to the church." He glared. "I ignored these silly pleas to get divorced. I looked away and trusted that you would gain some sense and adapt to the situation. Your senses rotted instead of growing. You made a mistake by going to those people to tell them that I haven't touched you."

"Is that a lie?" she retorted. "You have made a fool of me."

"No! You made a fool of me!" He rushed to grab the back of her hair, his angry breath causing her fear to grow. "I am your fucking husband! I can decide to touch you when I feel like it."

"You did not feel like it for five years?" Despite her fright, Rose chose to fight for herself. "I don't believe that. You are lying. Ah!"

He yanked her hair, pain filled her soul, and she became desperate to find a way to escape his deadly touch.

"Are you the only fucking bitch in this world? I can fuck whoever I want, Rosie." That nickname sounded sour, unlike the last time she heard it. "And I fucked whoever I wanted. But, sorry. I have never wanted to fuck you." He taunted her. "You are just too filthy and self-absorbed to fuck."

"Why did you marry me?!" She pushed him with all her might, and he crashed onto the floor. "I am not your toy!" Her legs hurried to the door for easy escape if needed. "I am not yours to own! I did not force you to marry me, Richard!"

With a vicious grin, he got off the floor. "Is that why you told those people that we have not had sex? Were you that desperate to fuck, Rose?"

"Fuck you, Richard."

"Why did you hide the rest from them? You should have told them that I did not speak to you for years in addition to not screwing you. Were you scared they would blame you for that?"

"Richard..." She sighed to calm the rousing storm within her and quietly asked, "Is there a reason you called me here?"

"Yes." He moved closer, intensified his overpowering presence and forced her away from the entrance, his hand slamming the door shut while he tossed her to the ground he just got up from. "Stay down."

Rose clutched her bag. If he discovered that she was documenting their conversation, the situation could worsen, and unspeakable things might happen to her. After all, she was now seeing a side of Richard that he had hidden well for years. He surely looked like a monster lurking in the shadows, waiting to feast on the essence of her soul.

"Right." He squatted in front of her. "You have always been my good girl. Don't make me regret choosing you." With manufactured affection, he wiped off the sweat building on her forehead. "My dear Rosie." Her eyes fought to remain open, she could not dare close them for fear that he would slash her once she did. "Answer me!"

Her body and soul jumped. "Y-yes?"

His anger became a soft smile, and his knuckles traced the acne scars on her cheeks, the very ones he once confessed made her uniquely beautiful.

"My Rosie, I understand that you might be frustrated, but as I said," he said, bringing his face closer to hers, "you have to be patient. Ask me what I mean."

Scared that he would torture her with his voice, she whispered while fighting back tears, "What do you mean?"

"I will never divorce you, Rose." His hand captured a fistful of her hair again, and the earlier pain returned. "If you like, walk into the top broadcasting company in this world with a megaphone and placards about your terrible husband, I will never leave you. Rose," he pushed her closer, a wince almost leaving her, "the only way you can nearly escape is death. When you die, I will keep your body next to me and deny you rest."

"Richard..." She could not hold back her emotions anymore. Her tears came out, the earlier wince turned into a groan. "What have I done to deserve this? I have not done anything to you, Richard."

"True." He smiled, and it became clear to Rose. "You have not done anything to me." Her husband was psychotic. "But, I will do things to you that will make you regret complaining about my silence." Everything was a play to him. From their first meeting to their fun moments, down to their married life... everything was a game he plotted. "Rose..." That realisation made her crash; it was only long before she would fall deeper into despair. "Look at me, my Rosie." She could not. "Look at me!" He almost snapped her head, and for a second, she wished he had accidentally killed her. Surely, dying had to be better than living like a voodoo doll with the worst destiny.

As her eyes strived to remain open, her husband showed her how sickly his smile could be, and with a boastful tone, he continued, "You cannot escape. No one will save you, either. And to ensure that is the case, I will close down your shop. As of today, you will not step out of this house until I say otherwise. The day one of your feet makes the mistake of taking you outside, I will torture it till I am satisfied."

How did her life come to that? How did she go from loving a man to being tortured by the same man? Just what has she done to her life?

A wicked bite on her lips snapped her out of her inner cries. The man dug his teeth into the flesh of her lips, he almost drew blood while he feasted on the pain he was igniting.

"Tasty as always. Maybe one of these days, I should fuck you," he jested. "You can't be too bad as a virgin."

A groan of resignation left Rose when Richard stopped trying to tear off her lips. She slumped to the ground, and a scoff of contentment came from the man who looked down at her. Rose finally closed her eyes. She knew she should be fighting back, she knew she needed to find a way to run away, but...

But...

She could not do it.

She could not move.

All she could do was cry in silence.

It was all she could do despite hating how her husband seemed to feast on her sorrow.

"Let us have fun from now on, Rosie. I-" A loud bang led to Richard falling unconscious onto the ground.

Rose sniffled and lifted her eyes, her brows jerking in surprise. Her lips showed her confusion.

"H-how are you here?" The stranger she met at the bus stop was standing before her, yet that was the question she could ask him. While waiting for a response, she recalled how his simple presence made her feel and prayed in the deepest of her souls that his presence was about to help her out of the hell she walked into.

"I heard your cry," he replied as he walked over Richard's body. "I could not ignore it."

"B-but I did not cry out. I was-"

"I heard you regardless." His eyes were a stark contrast to Richard's, but she doubted she could trust them. That thought made her shift away a little. "I want you to come with me, Rose."

Oh, what a tempting offer. But could she accept it? Rather, should she?

"Wh-why?" she asked as she watched him kneel in front of her, his eyes still showing her that his soul was warm and not willing to harm her. "Why should I?"

"You are mine. And I am yours." That simple response made her soul relax without her intending it. "We should not be apart any more, Rose." He glanced at the mess in the room. "I do not want to leave you in this filth."

Her hands were shivering, she found out when she looked down at them. With desperation, she tried to hide them, but the man in front of her was looking at all of her. He was seeing her mess, yet he was not repulsed. She could see it in his eyes that he meant his words. Thinking back to when she first met Richard, she realised what Richard's eyes carried differed from the strange man's. She could not explain it, but that was the situation, and it made her realise that she had been blind to Richard's many red flags.

With regret swimming in her soul, Rose looked up at the man again. This time, she wished to avenge the sorrow Richard caused her. She had no concrete reason to back what she aimed to do but did not hold back. With sniffles here and there, she caressed the man's jaw and slowly inched her lips to meet his. When the contact happened, unexplainable excitement filled her soul and her terrible predicament was temporarily forgotten.