A Wife's Obligation

The master bedroom was swallowed by the heavy, suffocating silence of the dead of night. Tessa lay in the center of the massive bed, her body trembling under the thick duvet. She had tried to sleep, but her mind refused to quiet down. Every muscle in her body felt stiff, wired with tension from the agonizing events of the day. Suddenly, a sharp, unfamiliar ache flared deep in her lower abdomen. It was not the dull drag of her usual cramps, but a sudden, piercing heat that made her gasp. A second later, she felt a distinct, warm rush escape her body.

Tessa jolted upright, her heart hammering against her ribs. She threw back the heavy covers and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, her feet hitting the cold hardwood floor. Shaking, she reached down to feel the sheets. In the dim light filtering through the window, she could see a dark stain blooming on the fabric.

She did a quick calculation. Her cycle had been chaotic ever since she began taking the aggressive fertility medications two years ago. She was exactly half a month late.

"Is it just my period?" she muttered to herself, her voice a hollow whisper in the dark room.

She stood up, but the movement triggered another sharp spasm in her belly. She winced, clutching her stomach. It felt different—sharper and more intense. Then she remembered the grueling, painful fertility acupuncture session she had endured earlier that day. The practitioner, sent by Desmond's grandmother, had inserted long, thick needles deep into her abdomen under the guise of preparing her body for pregnancy. She assumed the treatment must have triggered this abnormal spasm.

She walked slowly into the bathroom, cleaned herself, changed her underwear, and put on a pad before returning to bed.

But sleep was far out of reach. Tessa lay back down, staring blankly at the dark ceiling. The digital clock on the bedside table glowed a cold 2:00 AM.

Desmond was not home yet. Had he gone straight to Sloane?

During their three years of marriage, she had learned he was not a patient man when it came to his physical desires. Even without love, he had never hesitated to take what he wanted from her body. There were marks of their intimate encounters scattered all over this mansion—on the couch in the study, against the cold glass of the balcony, on this massive mattress. He was a man driven by basic, physical impulses, and he had never spared her feelings when satisfying them.

And now? Was he fulfilling those same biological needs in some sterile hotel room with Sloane? Was he holding Sloane with the same raw passion, but this time paired with the love he had never given Tessa?

The mental image was a physical blow to her chest. Tessa quickly pulled the heavy blanket over her face, stuffing a corner of the wool into her mouth. She bit down hard, her teeth grinding as hot tears soaked into the pillowcase. Her entire body shook as she muffled her agonizing cries, desperate to keep the staff downstairs from hearing her pathetic breakdown.

She wept for her shattered dignity and the three years she had wasted playing the submissive wife. Most of all, she wept with deep, bitter regret for ever falling in love with him. He had once been her savior, a comforting, protective older brother figure when she had nothing. That warmth had sealed her fate. She had mistaken his brotherly pity for love, and it had ultimately cost her her freedom and pride.

The heavy wooden door suddenly clicked and swung open. A rush of cold night air swept into the warm room, carrying with it the silhouette of a detached Desmond.

Tessa stiffened under the covers. She slowly pulled the blanket down, her eyes widening. She had been convinced he would not return tonight.

Without a word, he grabbed his pajamas and walked into the bathroom. After the shower stopped, he returned, drying his damp hair, and climbed into the large bed, keeping a vast, chilly distance between them.

The silence was suffocating. Then, Desmond broke it, his voice laced with cold irritation.

"Don't tell Mrs. Higgins to call me again and again next time."

Tessa’s brow furrowed. She had never asked the housekeeper to call him. But before she could speak, Desmond turned over, his eyes cutting through the darkness.

"Do you know that Sloane is raising hell at home because Grandmama Agatha is forcing her into an unwanted marriage?"

Tessa pulled the blanket tighter. "That has nothing to do with me."

Suddenly, he lunged across the bed, rolling over to pin her body beneath his. His heavy frame pressed down on her, his fingers digging into her collarbone through her thin pajamas.

His face was inches from hers, his features twisted in disgust.

"I always thought you were a kind, gentle woman during these three years," he spat, his voice laced with venom. "Only now do I realize how utterly manipulative you truly are! You say you agree to a divorce, but you use your sick mother and Grandmama Agatha to bully and terrorize Sloane from the shadows, forcing her into a marriage she doesn't want!"

"Is that really how you view me?" she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to suppress the sharp pain in her chest.

"How else?" Desmond sneered. "I was originally going to delay the divorce because your mother is terminally ill. But since you play these disgusting games, I don't want to wait anymore. We are finalizing this immediately."

Tessa's last shred of composure fractured. Before she could react, Desmond's eyes darkened with a volatile energy.

"Since you don't want to divorce, you'll just have to fulfill a wife's physical obligations right now!"

He lunged and slammed his lips onto hers.

The kiss was forceful, devoid of any tenderness. Tessa twisted her head, trying to break free. "Don't touch me!"

Desmond caught her wrists, pinning them above her head. He pressed his entire weight onto her, roughly grabbing the collar of her pajamas and twisting the fabric around her neck.

Tessa choked, panic flooding her veins. She thrashed beneath him, pushing against his chest with every ounce of strength.

"I'm on my period!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Desmond froze instantly.

The tension in his muscles vanished. He stared down at her tear-stained face, then slowly released her wrists and backed off. He sat on the edge of the mattress, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quietly into the dark. "I didn't know."

Tessa scrambled to the far side of the bed, pulling the thick duvet over her head. She curled into a tight, trembling ball, hiding like a terrified, injured wolf cub.

Desmond watched the shaking mound. "Are you in pain? Do you want me to call a doctor?"

"No, thanks," her muffled, cold voice replied. "Just leave me alone."

Desmond sighed, lay back down, and closed his eyes.

Beneath the heavy blanket, a tiny, pathetic shred of comfort washed over her shattered heart. He had returned after only a few hours and wanted her physically. That meant he had not slept with Sloane tonight. The realization brought a bittersweet, miserable comfort.

The next morning, Tessa woke up to find herself held tight in Desmond's strong arms.

"Sorry for waking you," she said instinctively as she moved away and his eyes fluttered open.

The moment the words left her lips, she wanted to slap herself. It was a deeply ingrained, submissive habit she instantly hated and regretted. Putting on a blank, emotionless mask, she swiftly retreated to the bathroom shower, deliberately ignoring the lingering, sharp abdominal discomfort and the strangely lighter-than-usual bleeding.

After drying off, she applied makeup to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

Walking downstairs, she learned from Mrs. Higgins that her dying mother and grandmother had already gone out to the park for the day.

"I'll handle the dinner tonight," Tessa told her. "And tell the clinic I’m skipping the fertility acupuncture today. I’m having my period, so I can't go."

In the grand dining room, Desmond attempted a casually polite morning greeting. "There are sunny-side-ups," he said, gesturing to the table.

Tessa sat down silently, ignoring his attempt at pleasantry.

Desmond set his coffee down, his tone shifting back to his usual authoritative demands. "I strictly hope you can convince Grandmama Agatha to immediately give up on forcing Sloane into a marriage today."

Losing her entire appetite in an instant, Tessa forcefully pushed her breakfast plate away, standing up from the table.

"She’s your childhood friend and old flame, not mine. If you find it to be too painful to watch, you can go ask Nana about it yourself."

Tessa walked briskly out of the front doors of the mansion to hail a cab to fetch her mother’s hospital reports.

Behind her, Desmond quickly chased after her down the driveway. He forcibly swallowed his earlier frustration to offer her a ride in his car.

Tessa coldly and sharply dodged his reaching grasp.

"No, thanks. I don’t want to hear a single word about Sloane Mercer from your mouth ever again!"