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Chapter 7: Jacob’s Rage

Jacob carefully pulled away from Sofia's embrace, his gaze turning to the waiting Mr. Brown. "I apologize, Mr. Brown," he began, his pace accelerating as he reached me, his tone now marked with the introduction, "Allow me to introduce Lily, my wife."

Mr. Brown appeared unconcerned; a pleasant smile on his lips, "No worries. Your key is ready at the reception desk."

The staff attended to our luggage, and I trailed behind Jacob and Sofia as an inconspicuous observer. Amidst the cluster of island guests, Jacob pulled my hand, urging me onward. "Hurry up, my wife," he murmured, and Sofia vanished from behind.

Their connection remained disturbing to me. My relationship experience was limited and flawed, but I was resolute in not allowing this man to break me. Focusing on the stunning island scenery, I watched the sun descend into the ocean.

Upon entering the bustling lobby, children reveled in toys while adults engaged in their luggage with excitement.

"Wait here," Jacob instructed, approaching the information desk where an attractive attendant greeted him with a sweet smile, to which Jacob responded with a flirtatious grin. “Hello, Amelia.” He kissed the lady’s hand as she giggled.

Embarrassed by the behavior Jacob was portraying in front of me, I turned away, pretending to get interested in the breathtaking view of the island shore. In the distance, colorful banners made the surroundings lively. I reminded myself, "Rose, treasure this moment. It's a once-in-a-lifetime experience." I was well aware that once Jacob's captured Lily, I could be back on the streets.

"You seem lost. Come on, there's much to do in our room." Jacob's voice sliced through my thoughts, propelling me toward our accommodations. He held my back as he led me into our rooms, but to my surprise, we approached one door, and he carried one key.

"Are we sharing a room?" I felt sudden panic.

"Have you forgotten why we’re here?” Jacob's sarcasm dripped. "Well, let me remind you again. We're married, and we’re on our honeymoon. Of course, we're sharing a room." He opened the door and turned to me. "Are you coming in or not?"

I entered hastily to avoid escalations in our discussion.

"Close the door behind you," he instructed, tossing his bag aside and collapsing onto the bed. He was tired, obviously, as he closed his eyes, and I remained standing still, wrestling with my unfamiliar role.

In a muted murmur, he pondered, "What would a wife typically do during a honeymoon?" The words ignited memories of the book he had given me, its contents only partially read. With haste, I organized our belongings and neatly hung his clothes in the wardrobe.

Seeking clarity, I asked, "Is there a connecting room?" But Jacob was already snoring.

With a sigh, I decided to wait for him to awaken and jumped on the couch to take a short nap. I was still shaken from my experience in the sea. And sleeping isn’t difficult.

Night fell, and I stirred in the unfamiliar darkness when I opened my eyes. Searching for light, I stumbled before I found the switch and turned it on. I was alone in the room. Annoyance simmered alongside my hunger, yet my lack of funds trapped me in dependence upon Jacob's goodwill. After a quick shower and changing into a flowing, colorful dress, I summoned the courage to venture outside to find food—hopefully Jacob.

Frustration bubbled within me as I marched in the lobby—this man had a lack of basic manners, leaving me without means for food. “I really hate him,” I mumbled.

"Mrs. Alvarez?" The receptionist's smile glows at the reception desk. "Your husband left a note for you."

Accepting the note, I read Jacob's instructions: Eat at the restaurant; charge it to our room.

"The restaurant is by the beach, Mrs. Alvarez," the young woman advised, still smiling without looking at me. Now you know I’m the legal wife. I thought grimly, leaving the desk without thanking her.

Approaching the restaurant, a melodious love song wafted through the air, its lyrics professing, ‘And I love you, so people ask me why.’ An old tune, cherished among the enamored. As I walked through the path going to the restaurant, series of lights illuminated my way and reminded me of one of William’s works of art. He used to decorate our tree house back then with Christmas series lights he stole. Thinking of William made my heart warm and lessened my suffering.

I chose a table separated from the groups of diners; it was facing out into the ocean, and the cold wind brushed my skin. The waiter handed me a menu. Looking at the menu relived my first date with Jacob, but this menu was more foreign to me. "What would you suggest?" I smiled at the waiter, seeking a safe option. The waiter recommended the restaurant's best seller, and I agreed. He disappeared and was back sooner with a bottle of wine.

“This is our complimentary bottle of wine.” He gave me a flirtatious smile.

“No, thank you, but I don’t drink.” I smiled back at him.

"Give it a try; you might enjoy it," a warm male voice suggested from behind. Turning, I saw a handsome, bearded man approaching my table, wearing a welcoming smile. "I'm Tristan Gale, and you are..."

"Rose." It was too late before I realized my mistake.

"Rose... what?" Tristan asked for my full name.

"Just call me Rose," I replied with a smile, appreciating his friendly approach.

"May I join you?" The guy’s magnetic smile extended toward me. Alone and feeling a sense of solitude, I welcomed the idea of companionship.

"Sure," I replied, grateful for a new acquaintance.

“How lucky I am to be here tonight and find a beautiful Rose,” he said, pulling a chair opposite me. His movement was calculated as he continued, “This is your first time here, right? ”

“Yeah,” I shrugged.

“Let me order for you,” he said, picking up the menu.

“I’ve already put an order in with the help of a waiter from here.”

“Still, I would like to give you the best of this restaurant.” He called the waiter and ordered. As we waited for our food, he was so comfortable talking to me as if we had met before.

"Well, may I ask a question?" Tristan inquired, his brown eyes focused on me.

My heart pumped rapidly, afraid to hear what he might ask. I’m still not ready to talk about my marital status.

“Who’s with you? ”His eyes were focused on me.

Apprehension flitted through me. I was hesitant to reveal my marital status, but I know that I have to. "I'm here with... Jacob Alvarez," I answered tentatively.

“What is this, Lily? ”A stern voice was coming from behind that made me shiver.

Jacob’s eyes were blazing with fire as he yanked my arm, nearly causing me to stumble. “Go back to our room,” he growled. I wrenched my arms to loosen from his grip, but I was frozen by his sudden appearance and the embarrassment he showed me.

"Let go of me; you're hurting me, Jacob!" I resisted, my anger welling up. "And you're acting rudely!"

"Your behavior is disrespectful and rude. You're a married woman, yet you're dining with a stranger," he spat, tugging me with ferocity and throwing an angry gaze at Tristan.

“Let her go.” Tristan stood up to intervene. "It's my fault; I approached her." He tried to explain, but Jacob’s fist was already crashing into Tristan's face.

My scream filled the air, getting all the attention of the diners. Blood trickled from Tristan's nose, which he swiftly wiped with the back of his hand as he took a position to fight back. But my instinct drew me to the center of the two men.

”Stop it, Jacob!!! ”I cried and pulled him out of the restaurant with all my strength but failed. “This is embarrassing! We’re just talking! ”

Jacob turned to look at me, and without hesitation, he dragged me back into our room and slammed the door behind him. His eyes were very angry. “Never ever talk to another man behind my back. You are my wife, so don’t act like a whore to other men!!! ”

"How dare you say that to me?!!!” My tears raced down in my cheeks as I retaliated, feeling humiliated. “Let me remind you, Mr. Alvarez. You paid me to stand as your wife, meaning you have no right to hurt me like this!!!” I turned around away from his gaze, but his hands caught me and pulled me to face him.

Jacob hissed. “As long as you’re carrying my name as Mrs. Alvarez, I have all the right to stop you from fooling around and messing with my name.” His fingers clutched my flesh. “Our marriage is real, not fake, and at any time, I can have you and your boyfriend thrown in jail. Do you hear me? As long as we're not divorced, you won't be allowed to speak to another man." With that, he released his grip, leaving me alone on the bed frozen.

Tristan's bleeding nose flashed back, which reminded me that he needed immediate attention for his wound. But I can do nothing for him because I was imprisoned in Jacob’s name. And then panic, feeling overwhelmed, thinking. Where might Jacob go? He was so angry when he got out.

“Oh my, God.” The thought of Jacob looking for a confrontation with Tristan freaked me out.

I jumped out of bed, determined to find Jacob. His anger had proven explosive, and I couldn't allow him to harm Tristan again. Nervously, I hurried out of the room, my heart pounding with each step. My hunger was replaced with anxiety.

In the dark corridor, I glanced around, my eyes scanning for any sign of Jacob's presence. The hallway seemed deserted, and I hesitated for a moment. Confused about which direction he might have gone. Instinctively, I followed the footpath directed to the beach, hoping to intercept him before he could do anything regrettable.

The air outside was cold and damp, touching my skin as I hurried down the quiet hallway. I felt worried, wondering where he was going in such anger. I must find Jacob, I thought.

Turning a corner, I saw Jacob’s silhouette on the balcony, looking over the island. I felt relieved that he had not gone too far. I was about to approach him when another figure joined him.

"Thanks for being here." Sofia's alluring voice reached me. The two figures merged as they kissed. "Come with me, Jacob. Let's go to my room."

Anger surged through me. I wanted to stop them from doing something considered wrong in our marriage. I felt betrayed and heartbroken.

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