Jossy carefully tipped the glass in her hands as she let the last of her gin cocktail down her throat.Third drink? Fourth? She had stopped counting. He wasn't here, and tonight, she was free. She can do whatever she wants.
Damien was miles away on a business trip, probably somewhere in a meeting right now, flashing his perfect smile across a polished table. Normally, he would have wanted her there too, sitting quietly at his side, nothing more than an accessory, making him look and feel good. Or worse, he would have wanted her to stay locked up at home with strict instructions on how to behave until he returned.
But tonight..tonight he was away, alone, and for the first time in months, she felt something close to freedom.
Still, his voice clung to her thoughts.
Don't slouch. Don't drink so much. Don't embarrass me, Jossy.
Even in his absence, he lingered like a stain she couldn't wash off.
Jossy didn't want to think about him. Not tonight. She signaled for another drink, the bartender giving her a quick nod. What did it matter? Tomorrow she will return to her castle. The life so many envied. The life that felt like a cage.
Her eyes wandered to the several bottles lined up behind the bar, but her mind drifted back..back to the night Damien proposed. It was the most perfect proposal.. A rooftop dinner in the city, candlelight, and her favorite song, "Can't Help Falling in Love" by Elvis Presley, playing softly in the background. When he slipped the diamond ring onto her finger, she thought her life was beginning. Her friends screamed with excitement, her parents beamed because she had found the perfect man, and strangers looked at her with envy.
The wedding itself was even grander,with exquisite decor, and her dress like something straight from a fairy tale. A Cinderella story, many, especially the media called it. She was the luckiest girl, marrying The Damien Rothwell at just Twenty Two.
Only no one knew. No one saw the cracks behind the photos, the smiles,and the headlines. No one saw her crying in the bathroom, her hands trembling as she pressed them against her face, asking herself if she had made a mistake. No one knew that just six months into their marriage, each time Damien's arm wrapped heavy over her waist, a part of her had wanted to run. Now, two years in the marriage, she sat here, at just twenty four, with her life already feeling like an old lost dream. If only she could go back.
She laughed under her breath, bitter and empty. To the world, she was still the perfect wife. Inside, she was crumbling.
Just then, a shadow interrupted Jossy's thoughts.
"You look like you're waiting for someone. Are you?"
The voice was smooth, low, carrying over the music in a way that made her lift her head. A man stood by her table, tall, leaning just enough to catch her attention without intruding. His eyes caught hers, sharp and intriguing, but not in the hungry way she was used to. More curious. As if he was studying her.
Jossy raised a brow, masking the sudden fear in her chest. "And what makes you think that?"
He gave a small laugh, hands slipping into his pockets. "Because you don't look like a woman who wants to be alone."
Her lips curved, a little amused, a little defensive. "Maybe I do."
"Maybe," he said, " although I don't buy it."
He didn't move closer. He just stood there, waiting.
"Mind if I sit?" he asked at last.
Jossy hesitated, her heart beating in a way that had nothing to do with the man or the alcohol.Something told her that if she said yes, tonight wouldn't end in a way Damien would approve, and she would be inviting more trouble than she was ready to handle.
Still, the man's eyes lingered on her, searching, as though he was waiting for her to say yes. Jossy felt the pull, though tempting, but choosing herself meant doing what would make Damien happy.
Her hand moved before she could think. She lifted it slightly, the diamond on her finger clear in the dimmed lights.
"I'm married," she said quietly, with a smile on her face, though the words were bitter on her tongue. Then, forcing another smile, she added, "My husband is waiting for me at home."
It was a lie, of course. Damien was across the country. But she needed an excuse to let the man down easy.
Before the man could reply, she pushed her chair back, stood, and reached for her purse. She still had a smile on her face when she cleared her tab and murmured a thank you to the bartender.
As Josy walked away, she didn't look back. She couldn't.
What would have happened if she had let him sit? If she had allowed herself one real conversation, one moment of freedom? She knew the answer. Damien would find out. Somehow, he always did. Maybe one of his men was already here, watching her every move, reporting back. The thought made her chest tighten.And so, she hurried out into the cool night air, the noise of the bar fading behind her.
At home, the silence was louder than she expected. The penthouse was beautiful, perfectly decorated, the kind of place only the rich could afford. But to her it felt like a hotel room. It was cold, polished, and not really hers. Growing up, she had always dreamed of real love, a real home, and a place where she belonged. Damien had been all that in the beginning. When did it all change? She couldn't pinpoint it, but slowly, he had started by looking down on her dressing, then her words, and then, before she knew it, he had started raising his voice at her.
She kicked off her heels by the door, her feet aching. In their bedroom bathroom, she washed the smell of alcohol from her skin, pulled on a soft nightdress, and slid into the massive bed.
For once, it was hers alone.
No Damien beside her, no heavy arm pinning her down, no forced laughter in the dark as she tried to pretend intimacy didn't make her feel empty. No need to close her eyes and picture happier times.
Tonight, she didn't have to perform. Tonight, she could lie still, breathe, and remember who she used to be..before Damien, before the cage of her marriage.
That night, she let herself drift into deep sleep.
A loud bang of the bedroom door jolted Jossy awake. Opening her eyes, the morning sun shone on the bright coloured walls. Her head throbbed, the dull ache of last night's drinks making everything unclear.
The sound came again, this time sharp and urgent. She sat up, realization washing over her. Damien. He is back. She had not expected him home this early. Wasn't he supposed to be back in the evening?
For a second there, she thought of pretending to be asleep, but before she could move, the door swung open.
There he was..Damien..Tall, dark, and handsome.The man who had once made her feel chosen and untouchable. But at that moment, as he entered their bedroom, there was something else in his eyes. A storm.
"Hi, Damien," she whispered, looking at him, her voice low and unsure. She didn't get to say more. His fist connected with her face before her mind could catch up. Pain exploded across her cheek, sharp and hot, sending her to the ground.
"I told you not to provoke me, Jossy, didn't I?" His voice was low, but full of anger. "Who told you to go to that bar yesterday? Dressed in that thirsty little trap dress. Talking to strange men like you're free. Am I not enough for you?"
Jossy curled into the corner of the room, her hands instinctively shielding her face. Her heart pounded so loud she thought he could hear it.
But Damien was relentless. He grabbed her by the arm, yanking her off the floor with brutal force. She tried not to scream, from experience, it only made things worse for her. So she stayed quiet.
The rest blurred into the usual routine, the way he always reminded her who was in control. As he forced himself on her, Jossy's mind slipped elsewhere, into a memory of happier times. Memories that had made her love him, even now.
It was three years ago, at a college party in UCLA. She went reluctantly, dragged there by her bubbly best friend Hazel. Jossy was dressed simply in jeans, a loose blouse, and barely any makeup. At only 21, she was still working hard on becoming a marketing expert, that was her passion, and she wanted to be the best in the country. So, she wasn't looking to date.
But at the party, she noticed the crowd flocking to one guy in particular. Actually two, Damien and his friend Noah.
Damien was the kind of guy people noticed before he even spoke. He was tall, charismatic, and handsome with an easy smile that made girls believe he was looking at no one else but them.
At the party, Hazel pulled Jossy toward the dance floor, laughing and spinning her around. She was a shy girl from the countryside, so she protested because she was embarrassed. And then, strong arms slipped around her waist.
"Hi, Jossy," a deep voice murmured in her ear.
She froze, her heart pounding. Damien. He knew her name.
When she turned, his smile was wide and charming, his eyes on her and no one else. He wasn't looking at Hazel, or the dozen of classier girls in the room. And from that night on, he pursued her relentlessly. Waiting for her outside her classes and bringing her coffee before exams. For a simple girl who had never dated, being chosen by the most popular guy felt like winning something rare, something powerful. When he kissed her for the first time in the coffee house near campus, she felt like the whole world approved their relationship.
Back then, he loved her. Everyone knew it. And she.. she loved him back.
Jossy blinked against the tears in her eyes as Damien straightened, adjusting his shirt like nothing had happened. As usual, he left the room without a word.
She lay still, pulling her torn dress back into place, her cheek feeling heavy from the pain.
But instead of fear, she whispered to herself, "Today wasn't so bad."
It had only been one slap. Just one round. Maybe, maybe he was getting better. Maybe the man she had fallen in love with was still somewhere in there.
Clinging to that little hope, she closed her eyes and let herself drift into light sleep.