Chapter 33: Chapter 33

The next day Alecia changed her classes. She took two more literature, and three writing classes, hoping to find some inspiration to write while Ryder was busy with his job, but there was no inspiration. After she finished her school work, she would sit at her desk and stare at the laptop trying to find a story, but every story she could think of seemed silly and inadequate; especially when she’d look at her bookcase full of books, telling stories of characters who overcame great hardships.

So she started writing his biography. If he really was going to be a senator someday, then she would need to chronicle her life with him. She wrote about the moment she first met him, how scared she was, especially when he insisted on walking her home. She wrote of their courtship, the first kiss that made her forget all and the day it snowed. She added commentary of what she thought of him at each moment and how he made her feel so special; she wrote about the look in her father’s eyes as Ryder and he talked.

Her fingers dangled over the keyboard. She had gotten to the scene when she snuck into her old bedroom, that first trip home. All she had written was I don’t want. She stared at the screen in front of her. Those words revealed so much keeping her from finishing the sentence.

She couldn’t hug Kyle, but he could hold everyone else.

The words: you’re mine rang in her mind. Alecia closed her laptop and laid her head in her hands. No, no, he was hers. He even said it. But he said it while another girl danced in front of him in a black silk negligee. And she had let him. Alecia pushed her fist into her eye. You’re mine. The inflection in his voice sounded so possessive, but maybe she remembered it wrong. Or maybe she now saw it in a different light.

She looked up at the wall. Hanging there was a full-blown picture of him leaning against his Bugatti. He had such a strong jaw line, the jaw line of his family. If she could erase it all, all the moments, she would. A tear slipped down her cheek. No, she wouldn’t. She was meant to be his, but how much was he to own her? A shudder filled her she had signed the documents, she had let him mark her. Although they did not mention it, she was not only his wife but his legal slave.

And then she had lost the baby, right after their marriage. He had acted supportive and told her they would have another one, but she wondered if the loss was part of what made him act the way he did sometimes.

She turned back to the photo and looked further up his face, fixing on his blue eyes; the dark blues that had a look of longing in them as if he wanted nothing but her. She couldn’t live without him. Things were not that bad. Yes, he told her what classes to take, made decisions for her and never listened when she said no. But he’d change. He always did for her.

Alecia stood from the chair and walked into the bedroom. She took all her clothes off and

stood in front of the full-length mirror that rested on the wall. She looked over herself. What part of her did he desire the most? What part would he hate to lose? She took out her ponytail and let her long brown hair fall. It had gotten longer- it now fell to the small of her back. She reached to the tips and softly caressed them. She had always kept it to the middle, but Ryder wanted it longer, so she grew it longer. She held up her hair, and curled it under as if it was shoulder length. She dropped it. If she cut it, it would be gone, and she wouldn’t take away anything she couldn’t give right back. She looked over her body again – her body was so white, like he wanted it. It must be all of her. She turned around and looked at her backside, the hair slowly swished with her movements. She would take all of her, and he would give in, like when he went to rehab.

She left the mirror and slipped on her white nightgown. She put on some light makeup, the perfume that smelled like the sunrise, and brushed her hair, making sure each curl curled perfectly. She looked at the clock. It was getting close to eight. Hopefully, he’d be home soon.

Alecia sat on the bed, and stared at the door in front of her. Her hands dug further into the sheets of the bed as the minutes slipped past, and it got closer to the time when Ryder was always home. She looked at the floor and said a quick prayer, but quickly looked up, when the door to the apartment opened and his briefcase dropped on the floor. He was home. Please let him understand!

“Alecia,” he shouted.

She stood and walked to the door, the oakwood floor filling her vision. She opened it and peeked through. Ryder stood in front of the couch, still wearing the jacket to his suit with his shirt untucked, as he tugged at his tie.

“Hey,” she said, leaning against the wall.

A full smile crossed his face. He walked up to her and placed his hands on her hips. “You look so pretty.”

He kissed her on the neck, sending a chill through her. How could her new thoughts have changed her reactions to him? She shook her head. She must not over analyze everything. This was her Ryder. He worshipped her. Would lay the world at her feet to see her smile.

Alecia folded her hands behind her back and looked up at the ceiling. What could she say to him? She needed to make him stop, but he never stopped when she asked him. “Ryder,” she said.

He caressed her side, raising the nightgown up. Goosebumps spread over her flesh as her skin was exposed to the air. When he had the nightgown to her waist, she took his hands but he pulled it from her grasp and continued to pull her nightgown up to her breasts.

“Stop.” She pushed him from her.

Ryder stopped kissing her, and looked at the wall behind her for a second before he looked into her eyes. “What’s wrong, babe?” A lightness filled his eyes.

“I.…” She took a deep breath. She had actually stopped him. He had never stopped before. “I don’t want to do this.”

Ryder placed his hands on the wall and leaned into her. “What?”

Alecia pushed her shoulders back. Did he ever realize how small he could make her feel? His arched eyebrows accented the concern in his eyes. Was he worried something was wrong, but something was wrong, and she needed to make him understand, so things could be made right.

"I’m not going to sleep with you.”

He crooked his head to the side.

She squared her shoulders, but not one ounce of strength filled her. “Not till you stop

being so controlling.”

The lightness fled from his eyes. His father’s glare filled them. She pushed back against the wall.

"What?”

She opened her mouth to speak.

"What do you mean?” He smashed his fist against the wall. Alecia spun to the side away from his fist.

"You’re my wife!" His voice dropped lower, became more controlling. "My legal slave."

“I’m sorry.” Alecia fell to the floor and curled in a ball.

One more pound and he screamed out a stream of curses before he spun around, facing the couch.

“You whore.” His shout filled the room.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry. You’ll be sorry.”

What? What did he mean by that? Tears rushed down her face as Ryder swooped her into his arms. His feet pounded on the floor as he rushed to their room. Her body bounced as it fell onto the bed. Her eyes popped open when he slammed the door behind him.

She sprang out of the bed, ran to the door and tried to open it, but the door wouldn’t budge. She pulled at it several times, but the knob would not turn. How could the door be looked? But it was made to lock from the outside - a suggestion of his father’s when they picked this place out. What had his father known? She stumbled back from the door and wrapped her arms around herself as she fell to her knees – the tears pouring down her face. What had just happened? That wasn’t her Ryder.