Chapter 37
My Voice.
I’d just closed Ethyn’s door after dozing off in his bed following his nighttime story when I heard Carter enter our home.
I peeked in on Elle to see if she’d fallen asleep, and she was snuggled in the fetal position.
Elle had outgrown bedtime stories unless it was Carter reading to her.
Ethyn couldn’t sleep without one of us reading to him, and too often, I would drift to sleep while still in his bed.
If Carter wasn't home, I would stay until the following day, which Ethyn loved.
Of the two children, Ethyn needed me more, and I coddled him more than I should have.
As I walked down the hall and past the open space where I could look down into the expansive foyer, an angry Carter stood looking up at me.
I gripped the silver rails and stared back down.
I’d ignored his calls and texts since yesterday.
We always spoke right before his game, and for the first time, I didn’t answer when he called.
I only watched his game because the children loved watching him play.
The Rams squeaked by with a win, though he’d been sacked twice and thrown three interceptions.
Probably wanted to blame me for a poor-performing game.
I was prepared for his foul mood and ready to give him as good as he gave.
“Don’t ever shut me out again,” he started as he tossed his leather duffle Birkin bag on the plush bench just out of my sight.
“Or what?” I quirked a brow.
He rubbed his beard. “All of this is because I said to wait until I get home to discuss starting a business when we’re about to move to another city. Can’t you see that it makes no fucking sense to start something you’re not going to be around to finish?”
His dismissive tone set my teeth on edge. “Can’t you see I’m frustrated and tired of putting everyone’s needs before mine?”
Carter bellowed, “As if I don’t. I’m always thinking of every single fucking one’s needs before mine.
Trying to be the best father I can be with my crazy schedule.
Trying to be the best son and brother. Trying not to be a fuck up like my father.
Giving in to everyone’s demands and feeling all the pressure in ways you’ll never understand.
Risking my life every time I step on that field so everyone can have it all. ”
“Everyone but me. You didn’t say, trying to be the best husband.
You didn’t say that you try to make sure I’m happy,” I hurled.
I understood his pressures weighed heavily on him.
I did my best to alleviate his daily hassles and struggles, often at the expense of my wants and needs.
This time, I wouldn’t waver on what I wanted.
He cursed under his breath before responding, “That goes without saying. You’re my wife. If you’re not happy, then I’m not.”
“I’m not happy.”
Carter ran his hands over his face. “Such a spoiled, rich woman’s bullshit. I give you a home, cars, and a life, women dream of, and you tell me some shit like that.”
I leaned over the clear protective glass and yelled, “You’re doing it again. You just shut me out. I tell you how I feel, and you dismiss me. Calling me fucking spoiled, trying to make me feel like I don't have the right to complain."
He raised his voice as he commanded, "Be quiet before you wake the children."
I groaned loudly, "I swear I want to slap the shit out of you right now. You know these walls are soundproof because you wanted them to be that way."
"What if they wake up and step out of their room to a screaming mother?"
"Then they would see their mother being real and standing up for herself." I folded my arms and lifted my chin. "You're not going to shut me down this time."
Carter's hands flew up. "My God, can we please stop with the drama? I'm not this tyrant you're trying to make me out to be. Like you don't do what the fuck you want."
Stalking closer to the stairwell, I roared, "You're not a tyrant, Carter. But you shut me out whenever you tell me to wait for my dream. You shut me out whenever I have an idea or thought different than yours. You shut me out when I question your late nights, and you don’t want to talk about it. Hard to feel happy when you feel shut out or ignored by your husband. You're pissed with me because I ignored you for one day. One fucking day. It doesn’t feel good, does it?” I added with a smirk. "Are you happy right now?"
Carter’s nostrils flared. “I’m not shutting you out.
I always think of you and the children and what’s best for our family.
Sometimes, we don’t agree. Even when I’m angry or annoyed with you, I never ignore a text or a phone call from you.
If I don’t answer, it’s because I didn’t see it or I’m busy.
” He pointed up at me and chastised me, “I’m serious, Darren.
Every time I fucking call, your ass better answer. ”
“Or what?” I folded my arms again. “I don’t get to be busy or not realize I missed your call, too? Huh? The next time I don’t answer, then what? Are you going to run to your other woman? I bet she'll always answer your call.”
Carter suddenly bounded up the stairs, and because I’d never seen him so angry, I took off to the bedroom.
Hoping to get there and lock myself in until I knew he’d calmed down.
I made it to our room, and he pushed through it as I tried to shut the door.
Carter grabbed me by my upper arms and pushed the door closed with his foot.
“Why you running?” He asked as he lifted me off my feet like I weighed nothing and threw me on the bed.
I tried to scramble away, and he grabbed my ankles, pulling me down to the edge of the bed, my gown rising above my panties.
“You so fucking bad and think you can say some shit like that to me, then stand your ground.” Carter moved in between my legs, looming over me.
His searing gaze scorched my body, and his erection threatened to bust open the zipper of his cargo pants.
Even in his fury, he wanted to fuck, or maybe he wanted to fuck to show the power he wielded over me.
I shoved his chest, and he didn’t budge.
“You might as well go find whatever other woman you’ve been fucking, because you’re not fucking me tonight.
” I tried to shove him again, and he captured my wrists, forcing my arms behind me with one of his large hands.
“Let me go.” I screeched, though his brutal, overpowering strength was admittedly so fucking hot.
He lowered his eyes to my heaving chest and dragged the lace material covering my breasts down with his free hand.
My nipples puckered even tighter to the cool air and his attention.
“Funny how you keep throwing out that I’m fucking other women, and yet you still want to fuck me.
” Carter tightened the grip on my wrists behind me as he trailed one finger slowly over each nipple.
“If you truly believed I know another woman’s pussy besides yours, you would hate my touch.
You would tell me to stop or fight me harder. You wouldn’t be begging for my dick.”
“Or maybe I’m a fucking horny wife with no voice and just want to be fucked like you fuck her.” I dared him to deny he’d been with someone other than me. To deny that he didn’t want to hear my voice in our marriage. To deny that in our marriage, he wanted me to lie down and take whatever he gave.
Carter’s scowl grew, and he opened his mouth to protest and just as quickly shut it.
My breath hitched when he released my arms, pulled off his shirt, and pushed me over on my stomach.
I immediately lifted my ass in the air, and within seconds, he was inside of me, stretching me, stroking me viciously.
Carter had always been an aggressive lover, preferring to fuck and fuck hard instead of slow and long lovemaking.
Even with his preference for the rougher side of sex, he still made me feel safe and protected.
Tonight, his hands pressed my lower body into the mattress as he pounded me, uncaring if I was comfortable or if he was hurting me.
I gripped the sheets and tucked my face into the bed, refusing to make a sound, though with every thrust, I wanted to moan.
Rebel against my body’s weakness for his.
Rebel against my sexual need for him. My lack of response only made him more determined to make me scream.
Without stopping his flow, his thumb pressed against my clit.
I bit the sheets to avoid crying out. He toyed with my button as he pumped and pumped.
Our bodies shook the bed. His forceful movements caused the headboard to bang against the wall.
Carter started grunting and panting that his end was near.
I screwed my eyes shut and muffled my mouth to stop the swirl of ecstasy that wanted to escape my lips.
He thrust and thrust until his body’s spiral pushed mine into climactic completion.
As I shuddered my release, Carter pulled out and flipped me on my back to shoot his cum over my face and neck.
Instead of collapsing next to me to hold me, he stalked to the bathroom and returned to the bed to toss a cold cloth at me to wipe my face.
Without waiting for me to clean my face, he went into the bathroom, and soon I heard the shower.
Whenever he ejaculated on me, we either showered together or he would get a warm washcloth and gently clean me in bed.
As I wiped my own face, I realized he was showing me how he treated women who weren’t me.
He gave me what I asked for. Too numb and sore to argue or do anything else, I moved to my side of the bed and fell into a dreamless sleep.
The following morning, he was gone before I woke up.
Although I knew he’d gone to practice, it didn’t stop me from feeling empty inside.
Carter had been a creature of habit since I met him, which was why I suspected cheating in the first place.
He’s up at five and in bed by eleven daily.
Every morning that Carter’s at home, he wakes me up to tell me he’s gone for the day.
Usually, it’s a whisper, a kiss, and sometimes sex.
He then quietly slips inside the twins’ rooms and kisses them goodbye.
This morning, he just left me asleep. I rolled onto his side of the bed and smelled the sheets.
The familiar remnants of his cologne greeted my nose.
I hugged the sheets around me, wondering if we were at the end of our journey together.
He’d never treated me like he did last night after sex.
He would’ve probably asked me to leave if I weren’t his wife.
I told Carter I wasn’t happy, as if it was all his fault.
I had allowed my voice to be silenced throughout our relationship to show my gratitude that he’d been there for me during my pregnancy and chosen me as his wife before knowing if the babies I carried were his.
He wasn’t perfect, but he’d been good to me.
He’d been a helpmate, a friend, and a lover. I’d been content in the life we shared.
Not happy.
I would never be truly happy until Grey knew the truth about Elle.
And even then, I couldn’t be happy until I believed my children would be okay once they learned the truth.
I curled into a tighter ball with Carter’s scent all around me.
Was I ready to disrupt our lives with the truth?
Was I ready to have more arguments and fights like we had last night, because Carter would never agree to tell Grey about Elle?
Was I ready for Grey’s hurt that I’d kept his child away from him?
Was I ready for the pain and confusion my children were bound to feel once they knew the truth?
Was I ready to leave this life behind and start over as a single parent with my children?
Would I ever be ready to walk away from this life...from Carter St. Patrick?