Her night dragged by, as if the moon too was mocking her. Oscar had rolled over, molded himself to her body and held her. Elsie stiffened under his arm, the heat radiating off his strong body almost making her sick to her stomach. She never moved, not even to wipe the tears that kept falling. Her energy was spent on not openly weeping as she felt the remainder of his seed slip over her lower cheek.<br/><br/>The moon slid from her view, replaced with the soft entrance of the early morning sun. Sunlight crept across the floor, welcoming a new day. And yet, she didn’t feel any different. She’d laid awake all night with the horrid memories of what he’d done to her, what he’d said. Her  illusion of finding the perfect husband in Oscar Williams had been shattered.<br/><br/>The kiss he left on her cheek might as well have been a punch. Tucked firmly under the covers, she set her task to forming some semblance of normalcy back into her bones. She knew what she’d face when she decided to get up — proof of his aggressive treatment. She practically cringed when he laughed, not daring to look at him.<br/><br/>Elsie still couldn’t bring herself to move, even with the sudden relief of his absence. When he returned, his voice once more fell into that stern tone he used so often with her. A chill ran up her spine and spurred her to sit up. Sure enough, his marks burned still and the ache between her legs radiated into her belly. Quelling any sound that may indicate her discomfort, Elsie stood on wobbly knees, hiding the fact that her nightgown had residue from his assaults from his possible probing gaze.<br/><br/>“I’d love to host the ladies here.” Her voice sounded distant even to her own ears. “Thank you, Oscar, for offering to allow it.” She couldn’t think of what else to say. Everything felt wrong and nothing sounded right.