**ROSEANA**
I lay motionless on the bed, still perplexed by what had just occurred. What happened hasn't fully registered in my head yet, or perhaps my brain refuses to process what he did to me.
"What are you doing?" I inquired, surprised.
When I felt the aching in my buttocks, I exclaimed. God, did that really happen? I'm not making this up. He actually smacked my butt!
Damon struck me three times, and I didn't do anything about it, or rather, I wasn't given an opportunity to go against it. It was as though I only realized I was lying on my stomach on his bed, and before I could even react, his veiny hand had already touched my skin. Everything happens so quickly.
My entire face was flushed. I can't look him in the eyes. If I think about it, it's not me who should be ashamed, but it appears that the opposite occurred. I'm the shy one, while he appears to be pleased with himself for what he did.
"What?" he asks, his voice innocent. I can't help but scoff at his response. He appeared innocent, but I knew better than to believe him.
"I hate you!" I yelled! Damon let out a loud laugh. I buried my face in his mattress. I hope I can be swallowed by the bed. I don't think Damon and I can be in the same place anymore, at least not today. We've just been together for an hour, yet I've already been ashamed multiple times. I'm at a loss for words.
He was not like this before. He's just quiet, in his world, mostly minding his own business. Is this my karma for wishing for him to speak to me, even for a brief moment? If I used to want to hear his voice because I could only count the words he said on my fingers, now, I just want to lock him up in a corner so he stops teasing me. I don't know what happened to him that made him like a different person.
"It's not very obvious, but you have a plump butt, he said.
I couldn't take it any longer and glanced at him, irritated and ashamed. Instead of stopping laughing because I was annoyed with him, he laughed even louder.
"What? I'm just saying what I discovered; in research, that's what you call publishing the results of your experiment," he continued.
"You made it sound costly, but in simple terms, you're a pervert."
"When did I pervert you?" he inquired. "hmm?"
"Like right now? Wasn't it rude what you did to me just minutes ago?" I answered sarcastically.
The corner of Damon's lips turned up. "Why would I pervert you when I have every right to do so?" he asked.
When I heard what he said, my courage faded. I suddenly realized what he said was correct. I am his wife. I have responsibilities to him, but that doesn't mean he may touch me whenever he wants, especially if I'm uncomfortable. Furthermore, what we have is a contractual marriage, not a love marriage.
"But you shouldn't do that without my permission!" I snarled.
He didn't appear to hear what I was saying and simply dismissed it. "What I did was only the tip of the iceberg; I'm still nice to you," he shrugs.
"What exactly do you mean?" I inquired. I stood up from his bed and sat on it instead. I crossed my legs and raised my head to face him.
"That's your first warning, Roseana; you won't like what I'm going to do to you if you disobey me again."
He moved away from me and entered his walk-in closet. He walked out wearing loose black cotton pants and a white t-shirt.
"I paid a visit to a friend," I blurted out. Damon went completely still. I searched for his eyes and stared at them. For the first time, I didn't look away when he stared at me. I'd like to show him that I'm telling the truth.
"She was a colleague at the coffee shop; I went to her house and talked about my life, why I suddenly disappeared, and so on; but don't worry, I didn't tell her about you, if that's what's bothering you."
"She's the only person I've told about what happened in my life; she's a friend, the only friend I have. I fell asleep after we talked. I lost track of time, which is why I arrived home late," I stated.
Damon's gaze remains focused on me. He then shrugged and strolled to the opposite side of the bed. He sat down on the bed. We're now sitting next to each other, our backs against the bed frame, and we're both staring straight ahead.
"I didn't get to tell you before I left, and I don't have your number, so I don't know how to," I explained.
"But you shouldn't have done that," I say, referring to the ruckus in the lobby and what he did to me a while ago.
Damon gazed at me, his brows knotted as usual. I could tell he didn't like what I said even before his mouth opened. I had known men like him. His pride is too strong, and he will not listen to the opinions of others.
"I will decide what I want to do; I will not ask your opinion, nor will I even consider it," he stated emphatically.
"You can't be a jerk just because your wants were not met."
"You can't also tell me what I should do," I answered gently, trying my best to explain my side to him.
I take his jaw clenching but his lips remaining closed as my cue to continue what I'm saying.
"Damon, I'm sick of someone dictating my life; I've been through it, and it's... it's hell; can't I just live my life how I want it?"
"Roseana, it appears that we did not understand each other. I am not the type of person who adjusts for others. You are under my roof; you bear my surname; you eat my food; you spend my money; so you have to follow what I want," he stated.
"I am not a puppet," I declared.
"You're not. "You're my wife," he grumbled.
"As long as my name is attached to yours, I will decide for you." You have no right to question or dispute anything I say."