I Will Never Love You

Back to wedding night…

I'm frozen in terror, naked and trapped under Matthew's muscular frame. His dark eyes bore into me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl. My heart pounds as he roughly spreads my legs, his intentions clear.

"Please, Matthew," I whimper. "Don't hurt me. Please."

He doesn't respond, just continues to glare down at me with so much rage and disgust that it makes me want to disappear. I try again, desperation creeping into my tone.

"Matthew, I'm begging you. This isn't you. Don't do something you'll regret."

A harsh laugh escapes him. "Regret? The only thing I regret is letting you force me into this so called marriage."

His words cut deep, but I push past the pain. I have to reach him somehow. "I know I made you lose the one you love, but this won't solve anything. Please, just talk to me."

For a moment, I see a flicker of something softer in his eyes. But then it's gone, replaced by that awful coldness again.

"There's nothing left to say," he snarls.

As he shifts his weight, pressing me further into the mattress, panic overwhelms me. This can't be happening. Not on my wedding night. I dreamed about making love to him endlessly. It was a distant fantasy now.

"Matthew, no!" I cry out, struggling against his iron grip. "You're scaring me!"

His eyes flash with a fury I've never seen before, dark and bottomless. "Scare you?" Matthew hisses, his face inches from mine. "You haven't begun to know fear, Sarah. Not like the fear of realizing everything—every goddamn thing—was a lie."

I flinch at the venom in his voice, my heart racing. "Yes, I lied to get what I wanted but my feelings for you aren't lies," I plead, tears streaming down my face. "I love you, Matthew. I still do. Why won't you give me a chance?"

"Love?" He spits the word like poison. "You don't know the meaning of the word. You're nothing but a spoiled little girl playing games with people's lives."

He is not wrong about me playing games but still. Each word feels like a dagger to my heart. I want to defend myself, to make him understand, but terror has stolen my voice.

Suddenly, his hand is at my throat, fingers digging into my skin. I gasp, clawing at his wrist as he bears down on me.

"Did you think I will just forget about it?" Matthew growls, his grip tightening. "Did you think you could manipulate me forever and not suffer the consequences?"

I struggle to breathe, to speak. "Matthew… please…" I manage to choke out.

But he's beyond reason now, consumed by his rage and betrayal. "I trusted you once," he snarls. "I let you in, and you made fool of me."

Sobs wrack my body. What have I done? How did we end up here? My mind races, searching desperately for a way to reach him, to stop this nightmare before it's too late.

"I…I'm so…sorry," I manage to say.

Matthew's eyes flash with a dangerous glint. "I'll show you real pain," he growls, his voice low and menacing.

His hands move to my hips, gripping bruisingly tight. I feel the heat of his body as he positions himself between my legs. Terror floods through me, my heart pounding so hard I think it might burst.

"No…," I choke, still struggling to breathe.

For a moment, he hesitates, and I see a flicker of something—doubt, perhaps?—in his eyes.

I can't stop the flood of tears now, my body shaking uncontrollably. "Please," I beg again, my words choked and broken.

Suddenly, Matthew releases me, pushing himself away as if burned. He stands at the edge of the bed, chest heaving, fists clenched at his sides.

"You're not even worth it," he spits, disgust dripping from every word. "I'd rather never touch anyone again than soil myself with you."

His words make me flinch, and I curl into myself, trying to disappear.

Without another word, Matthew storms toward the door. It slams behind him with such force that the walls seem to shake.

I'm left alone, naked and trembling, the echo of his fury lingering in the air.

How did my dreams of love turn into this nightmare?

I wrap my arms around myself, but nothing can shield me from the cold reality of what just happened—or what almost happened.

~-~

I don't know how or when I fell asleep, but when I opened my eyes next, it was already morning.

The memories of my wedding night come flooding back and I force myself not to start crying again.

Blinking my tears back, I turn to my side, expecting to see Matthew's sleeping form next to me. But the bed is empty and neatly made, showing no signs of having been disturbed.

It is clear that he had not spent the night here with me after all. A hollow feeling settles in my chest as I realize something. I was alone on the first day of my marriage.

So much for marrying my dream guy.

I drag myself out of bed and look at my torn wedding gown crumpled on the floor.

I sigh, pick it up, and put it aside, unwilling to look at it.

I force myself to shower and dress, going through the motions like a robot.

But when I make my way downstairs, a sense of dread settles in my stomach. How can I face Matthew after what happened last night?

The house is eerily quiet. I find myself alone in the huge living room.

My father gave me this house as a wedding gift so I could start my life with Matthew. But it doesn't feel like a home right now.

Suddenly, a door slams somewhere. I jump, my heart leaping into my throat. Footsteps approach, and then Matthew is there, standing in the doorway. He looks haggard, his eyes bloodshot and his clothes rumpled.

For a long moment, we just stare at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. I swallow hard, trying to find my voice.

"Matthew…" I begin, but he cuts me off with a sharp gesture.

"Princess is awake," he says, his voice rough.

"We need to talk about last night," I say softly, gathering my courage.

Matthew's shoulders tense. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is," I insist, taking a step toward him. "What happened…it can't happen again. We need to-"

"What?" he snaps, whirling to face me. "We need to what, Sarah? Pretend everything is fine? Play happy newlyweds while you continue to lie and manipulate me?"

His words are like a slap. I flinch back, tears stinging my eyes. "That's not what I want. I'm trying to fix this, Matthew. I want to make things right."

A harsh laugh escapes him. "Right. Because you've been so concerned with doing the right thing up until now."

Someone clears their throat, and we both turn to look.

Marishka stands in the doorway, looking at Matthew and me with worried eyes. "I wanted to check and see if you two are ready for breakfast," she says.

Marishka is my nanny who raised me since childhood. She doesn't have any other family. While I loved my own mother, too, Marishka had a special place in my heart. Which is why I insisted she stay with me even after I moved into my marital home.

I force a smile for Marishka's sake. "Thank you, Marishka. We'll be there in a moment."

She hesitates, clearly sensing the tension between Matthew and me. But after a moment, she nods and retreats, closing the door softly behind her.

I turn back to Matthew, my heart in my throat. "Let's sit down for breakfast, and we can…"

His jaw clenches. "No thanks. I don't think I can keep my food down if I have to look at you while I eat."

"I know what I did was wrong," I say, my voice shaking slightly. "But I did it because I love you, Matthew."

He scoffs and starts to turn away, but I reach out, grabbing his arm. "Please, Matthew. Just eat breakfast with me. We are already married, so what's the point of fighting?"

He yanks his arm from my grasp, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I am going out. Don't expect me home before midnight."

With that, he storms out, slamming the door behind him. I flinch at the sound.

I sigh and walk over to the living room alone.

My legs feel shaky as I sit down, my heart still racing from the confrontation with Matthew. Staring blankly ahead, I try to process everything that's happened in the last 24 hours.

A gentle hand on my shoulder startles me out of my spiraling thoughts. I look up to see Marishka's kind, weathered face, her eyes filled with concern.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" she asks softly, taking a seat beside me.

I open my mouth to respond, but only a choked sob escapes. Marishka pulls me into her arms without hesitation, cradling me against her like she did when I was a little girl. The dam inside me breaks and I weep into her shoulder, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

"Shh, it's alright," she soothes, stroking my hair. "Tell me what's wrong, little one."

"I've ruined everything," I whisper brokenly. "He hates me, Marishka. My own husband despises me."

She's quiet for a long moment, just holding me close. When she finally speaks, her voice is gentle but firm.

"What did you do, Sarah?" she asks.