Authors: Vivienne Harris-Scott
She
had no real friends, a plethora of acquaintances and Ethan was still her
everything. She had sacrificed her career and moved to another continent to be
with him.
Her
marriage simply had to work; that first year, it did.
That
year flew by, and she felt she was in a bubble of champagne, not really knowing
where her life was going, but not overly concerned either. Her husband, her
home and the endless cocktail parties had become the
center
stage of her life.
As
the second year started, so did his bid for leadership, and Ethan's political
ambition became his everything and they were growing apart within 14 months of
being married.
When
she had been feeling loved, wanted, and complete with Ethan by her side, she now
felt increasingly alone as her husband started campaigning and distance grew
between them.
Ethan
was losing his way, getting more corrupted as the months went by, and the
elections drew closer. His ambition consuming him and their life. Every time
she had tried to point it out, they would argue and it would end up either with
him placating her anger with sex, or with one of them slamming the door,
leaving. She had a permanent suite at the Pitt St. Westin for such cases,
but usually he was the one leaving first. He would disappear for a few days,
and by then, she would be worried sick, unable to sleep until he
’
d return home, until he touched her and
told her he still loved her, in spite of her resentment over who he was
becoming.
Within
four months of campaigning, arguments over his political and strategic choices
increased to a daily occurrence.
Her
emotional dependency fuelling his need to somehow meet her approval, he was
still an attentive lover, reassuring her that she still owned that part of him,
professing he was still her Ethan.
Soon,
their only form of communication, the only one that still materialized their
marital bond, was sex. He would do anything to please her in that department,
and she lived for the moments he would touch her, reassuring her she hadn
’
t forgone the life she was destined to
live to end up unemployed on the other side of the planet, friendless, and in a
loveless marriage. Her emotional well-being and her sanity depended on them.
She
was slowly but surely losing herself.
Their
physical need of each other had been intense from the start, but when it had
been passionate and yet controlled since they had met, things were changing
between them, and before long, their physical interaction became one sided.
Ethan being the one initiating any sex, his dominant streak would be unbridled,
selfish, something it had never been before; her reactions to her husband
started to shift.
Six
months into the campaign, she no longer recognized the man she was married to.
Her husband, her everything, had turned into a ruthless politician whom she
didn
’
t
care for.
Their
sex life reached a breaking point when her lover followed the same path, and a
stranger emerged in their bed in lieu of her caring husband. He no longer
concerned himself with her pleasure but only his. When the simple sentence
“
Spread your legs,
”
whispered against her ear used to create
immediate heat and moisture, it, now, only elicited fear as to what would
happen if she refused. Yet, her body was still his, as he liked to cruelly, yet
tenderly, remind her when she would eventually moan under his touch and beg him
to make her come.
Something
broke in her, and she started to close herself off to him.
Their
daily arguments ceased.
It
was September 2002, another 4 months before the election; their sexual
interaction became minimal. Her body still reacted to his touch but her spirit
no longer was there and Ethan noticed immediately. He tried to be tender,
cajoling, and submissive even, but he could see it in her eyes, she no longer
respected him. Soon, he did not dare touch her anymore.
She
was losing weight and was barely able to sleep, her appearance was transforming
for the worse. She started to isolate herself from the few intimate acquaintances
she had made since the first year she had been in Sydney.
Soon,
she was in an emotional and physical castle of loneliness.
She
figured, if no one saw her, then it wasn't real. Her life was not falling
apart.
She
had tried to keep up the pretence of the perfect life, but no longer cared; she
was dying inside.
Her
only reprieve was the decision to start her PhD thesis. Working had always been
her salvation. So, she got a subscription to the law library, renewed the one
for Lawyers
’
Weekly, and started to study and write every time she was feeling distressed,
which was most of the time. She became a recluse, stayed at home, reading and
writing, barely noticing her husband when he was there and showed no interest
in his public life. She anything but simply disappeared from the Sydney social
scene, refused any public appearances, and by the end of the year 2002, she was
simply a phantom woman.
They
spent the Christmas holidays as they did the year. Together in a five stars
resort in Bora-Bora, but alone, unable to let go of their own resentment to
admit and face the state of disarray of their marriage
January
2003 started, and back in Sydney, they returned to their separate lives. Their
2
nd
wedding anniversary was approaching and the Election Day was 3
days prior.
For
all intent and purposes, Ethan had no wife as far as the public was concerned.
He was more seen with his campaign manager, Anna Blaton, than the woman he was
legally married to, which suited her just fine.
Until
Anna implied publicly that, she was the de-facto standing wife of Ethan
McGregor.
Her
reaction was the first she had in months. She had been unconcerned with her
husband for the better part of the past year because he was this stranger she
no longer knew, and thought she did not care about any more; yet, her pride was
hurt. Deeply.
I
lost it all. I can take anything, but not my husband having a public affair.
She
confronted him on the eve of the Election Day.
That
was their first real interaction in months. The first argument since June, and
the first and last time he hit her.
She
was so shocked; she thought she would never recover. The bruise fading within a
day, but her soul was scarred for life. That very day, she moved all her
belongings into one of their guestrooms.
She
was going to leave him.
You are someone's daughter
, her inner
voice kept telling her. This man was nothing to her. The decision was made.
Never
mind, she hadn't practiced law in nearly 2 years and had no real working
records ever since. Never mind, she didn't really know where she would go.
Never mind, her money was tied up with his, and she wouldn't be able to access
it without raising all kinds of red flags with their bank. Never mind all
that,
he had gone too far...
She
was better than this
.
She
deserved better than this
.
She
needed to leave, or she would die
.
She
had given him enough
.
She
would leave and never look back.
He
apologized on Election Day, his party winning. He would be becoming the
Premier of NSW, the youngest the State ever had.
He
begged her to forgive him, accusing the strenuous amount of stress that
caused him to lose control. She was his wife. He loved her and was not
having an affair with Anna.
He
would do whatever it took to make her happy. He promised. Whatever it took.
She
saw flickers of her husband, her everything, in the man holding and begging
her.
She
stayed
.
They
had magic once, wasn't it worth fighting for?
((~~!~~))
The night of his victory, Ethan told her
he had realized their marriage was on the brink of collapse. He still loved her
deeply and wanted to make things work between them. Reminding her of their
wedding vows, he swore to make things better. Ultimately, it was about the
promises they made to each other; he would do everything in his power to keep
his, if she gave him a chance.
He
was true to his words. Months went by without any other incident, Ethan
was being his old charming self in the presence of his wife, and
while they hadn't been intimate in months, they did talk more and he was home
more often than not, no longer pressuring her into the role of the politician's
spouse. She started to believe their marriage would survive, her PhD was
progressing and she began to start feeling like herself again. The year
flew by, their marriage regaining footing in the process.
Their
third wedding anniversary was approaching and she had organized a romantic
dinner at the Centrepoint restaurant, the first place he took her out dinning
on her very first trip to Australia. She had high hopes they would turn a new
leaf and start over.
She
had cleared his schedule with his executive assistant to make sure he would
meet her there that evening and had gone to her Grace Brothers personal shopper
in the days leading up to the date to get new clothes and lingerie. She had
gone to the day spa & salon for the first time in months, getting her body
scrubbed, smoothed and massaged, her hair and make-up done, and she felt mentally
and physically ready to reacquaint herself intimately with her husband. She
missed him, missed their physical connection.
The
evening came and went, he never showed. She left the restaurant at midnight,
humiliated; their personal chauffeur taking her home in silence, witnessing her
tears through the rear-view mirror.
That
night, Ethan stumbled in her bedroom at 1:39 a.m., visibly intoxicated, waking
her up by kissing her neck. Her eyes locked onto the alarm clock before resting
on him. As he started to chew on her nipple, his fingers digging into her
flesh, she tried to escape his grip. He forcefully pinned her down to the
mattress with his legs, a hand around her neck holding her in a chokehold while
ripping her silk gown off her body with the other.
Would
I ever be able to forget that night?
Very
unlikely...And now, he's downstairs...
He
ran his hand up her nether lips, massaging her slit with his thumb. She began
to cry, her breathing getting
labored
.
When
she felt his fingers trying to probe inside of her, she begged him to stop. He
said he wanted to celebrate their anniversary, she was his wife, he owned her.
Trapping
you...
That
cunt was his to take whenever he felt like it, he had whispered against her
ears as he continued to split her nether lips.
“
See, she wants it, your clit is swelling
baby...
”
he breathed against her flesh.
I
can never forget the night my son was conceived...
Growing
fear went through her body upon hearing the words. Did he think she was
enjoying this? That she was responding to his touch? Could he possibly confuse
her whimpering and wincing with a moan?
She
bit his lips as he forced his tongue into her mouth. She stretched her body,
trying to dislodge herself from his grip, twisting her hips in the process, and
pressing her apex against his. That involuntary gesture seemed to make him more
aroused.