How to Be a Heartbreaker

She could feel his eyes raking over her outfit, picking apart every aspect of it that was wrong. If they weren’t in public she knew he would let her know just how much he didn’t approve of it.

They had drinks with a few of Charlie’s friends and Willa drank more than she probably should have. She was just hoping that it would help with whatever she had to put up with later when they got home.

She didn’t expect the gentle hand on her thigh, sliding just under the skirt of her dress as they made their way into their bedroom that evening.

Later, when they were spent, his hand cupped her face, his thumb suddenly pressing hard into the still sore bruise on her cheek. She gasped and tried to flinch away.

“Don’t wear that dress or any dress like that when we go out again,” he said quietly. “I don’t need people thinking you’re a whore. Understand?”

She nodded her head the best that she could before turning onto her side. Charlie molded himself to her back, wrapping his arm tightly around her waist. When she heard him snoring, she allowed herself to cry and eventually found herself falling asleep, dreaming of the day she’d be free.