4. The Love of Your Life

Raelyn’s pov

“Seriously? After everything I do, you can’t even wake up to make me coffee?!” I rubbed my eyes, trying to adjust to the bright light.

I checked my phone, seeing it was seven in the morning. “I’m sorry, I must have slept through my alarm.”

I usually wake up before Dylan does and get everything ready for him. I make him coffee, breakfast, and lunch to take with him. He goes to the gym often and prefers to eat lean meals, so I make sure to stick to his meal plan provided by his trainer.

It’s the least I can do, since he provides for everything.

Right?

Right. I mean, he’s my husband and he allows me to stay home.

I took a deep breath and quickly got out of bed, “I’ll get started on breakfast, there is still time before you have to leave.”

He sighed, “never mind, just sleep in. Stay in bed the whole damn day for all I care. It’s not like you do anything anyway.”

I do things. I clean the house. I get groceries. I cook. I do some little projects here and there that I have asked Dylan to do, but he never seems to have the time for. Like hanging up a shelf or moving heavy items.

I take the trash out; I iron his shirts.

I do a lot.

But arguing with Dylan is not worth it, especially not in the morning when he’s already in a mood.

I walked to the door, “maybe I can quickly, -“

But before I could finish, Dylan had pushed me back, my back hitting the small desk behind me. “I told you, just go back to bed.”

I nodded while I rubbed my back. “Okay…”

He shook his head and sighed, “are you hurt?”

“No, no,” I quickly said, “I’m fine. Clumsy me, I just bumped into the desk.”

He smiled at me, “ok, good. If you had just listened...”

I nodded, “I know. Thank you for letting me sleep in.”

Thankfully, Dylan soon left our apartment, and I was by myself again. It’s pathetic really, but I prefer it this way, even though I am really lonely most days.

As soon as Dylan left the house, I started to tidy up and clean. He might have said I should stay in bed, but if he came back and dinner wasn’t served and the house didn’t look spotless, he’d complain or worse.

It wasn’t always like this.

I’m not an idiot who just married a man that was mean or rude to her. Dylan started off nice. Like, really nice.

We met when I was fourteen and he was twenty-one, but we didn’t become a couple until I turned sixteen. I was dealing with a lot back then, and he was there for me—to listen and just be a safe place.

I used to live with my grandma in a little house near the woods. Almost like a cottage, on the border of the city. It took me forever to get to school, but I didn’t mind. My grandma was the best, and even though we were poor, she never made me feel like we were missing anything.

We made a lot ourselves, clothes, baskets. We found an old bike and fixed it up.

She taught me how to be independent—to know how to cook, fix things, clean, grow crops, and even hunt.

She’d be ashamed of me if she saw how I was living now. She always spoke of how important it was to be independent. To not rely on others.

But when I was thirteen, she died. She was old, and she died in her sleep. I’m not even sure how old she was, because she always refused to tell me her age.

They tried to find a relative, anyone to take me in. Grandma said my mom had died during childbirth and my dad was a deadbeat. But Grandma had no family, no one to take me in, and I was put into foster care.

Now, I’m not saying all foster care is bad. I know kids that had a great life with their foster parents, but I wasn’t that lucky.

It could have been worse, though. I heard horror stories from one of the kids I lived with for a while. The couple I ended up with wasn’t abusive they were just in it for the paycheck.

They had no time for a grieving teenager. They didn't care about me and just left me to fend for myself.

Some of the other kids in my home bullied me, and, well, that’s around the time I met Dylan.

His younger sister was in my class, and we became friends. I started going to her house after school, and Dylan was there.

His family and his sister didn’t really like it when we started dating, so Dylan moved out and broke off contact with them. It was pretty sad, actually, because they were kind people.

I miss being friends with Mabel, but Dylan told me she said some horrible things about me behind my back. He said that she was trying to ruin our relationship because she was jealous of us.

I’m not so sure anymore if he was telling the truth, but it's too late to fix any of that anyway.

On my eighteenth birthday, he asked me to marry him.

I hesitated because we were both so young, but Dylan convinced me that it would be for the best. Since I was eighteen now, my foster parents would kick me out anyway, since they weren’t getting a check for me anymore. It would make it easier for us to get an apartment together, and we’d get married eventually anyway.

“Why wait to get married when you know you are with the love of your life?” He had said. I thought it was so romantic at the time.

I showered and made myself breakfast as I planned the meals for the next few days. Every time I bought groceries, I tried to buy things on sale. Dylan gave me money to buy groceries, and if I spent less than he gave me, I could put the cash in my go-bag.

I walked to the window, seeing my reflection in them. I hated how I looked.

I look thin, fragile, and pale. Like a ghost version of myself. As if all the spark has left me.

I sprayed the windows with window cleaner, getting rid of my reflection.

Things changed when we got married. Dylan became less affectionate. There were fewer compliments and more complaints. He got jealous more easily.

Back then I still argued with him. I tried to fight for our relationship; I tried to tell him how I felt. I still had hope he cared enough to hear me.

But one night during another argument, he hit me.

He cried after. He apologized and bought me flowers and chocolate, and he was good again. For a while.

Things were like they were before, and I thought it was just a mistake. Just one time.

Like an idiot.

I’ve seen movies about abusive relationships, and I always thought it wouldn’t be me.

Dylan loves me. He wouldn’t hurt me.

I went out to get the groceries. Making small talk with the cashier felt like the only part of my day that was normal. I felt like a human talking to her, instead of a ghost version of myself.

Then I started on dinner.

I don’t know why these thoughts popped into my head today. Why did I have this moment of self-reflection? Usually I just go about my day, not thinking back. Not wondering how I turned into this shell of myself. Or why I didn’t see all the red flags for what they were until I was stuck.

It was painful to think of how I got here.  It felt embarrassing.

Maybe it was Torin. Maybe he made me wonder what my life would have been like without Dylan.

The door opened, and I greeted Dylan with a smile, hoping his mood was better than this morning.

It was.

“You can stop cooking because we’re going out! We’re celebrating!” Dylan said with a big smile.

I didn’t dare tell him that it was a waste to stop cooking now. He was so excited, and I didn’t want to ruin his mood.

“What are we celebrating?” I asked, walking towards him to give him a kiss.

He picked me up and spun me around. I squealed, surprised by his action.

“I got a promotion, Lyn! Apparently I made a good impression on Mr. Vilkas.” Dylan said as he put me down.

“I’m so proud of you.” I said with a big smile.

“Yeah, and the best part… they’re sending me to Hawaii of all places.” He said excitedly.

“Wow….” Hawaii? How long? Are we moving there? How soon?

Could this be my way out? Do I want out?

There were so many questions in my head, but I knew I had to be careful when asking them.

“Don’t act so enthusiastic…” Dylan sneered at me as he shook his head in disappointment.

I quickly shook my head, “no, no, I just, um, when? How long? Just you, or?”

Dylan sighed, “you’re seriously going to ruin my good mood right now. Why all the damn questions? Are you not happy for me? For us?”

“No! I just, um, I meant, will I join you? I just wanted to know so I can prepare. I, um, never mind. Just, I’m really happy for you.” Shit. Please, don’t get angry.

“It will be for a few weeks, and I’ll be working too hard for you to join me there.” Dylan explained, “the world doesn’t revolve around you, you know. You can just be happy for me instead of making it about you.”

I bit my lip nervously. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He scoffed, “I don't give a fuck how you meant it. You know what?” He spoke as he grabbed his keys and phone from the hallway table. “I’m not really in the mood to celebrate with you. I’m going out.”

He slammed the door behind me, and I tried to keep myself from crying. But when I smelled something burning, I couldn’t hold back my tears.

I must have forgotten to turn off the stove. There goes my dinner.

Of course I ruined my dinner. I can’t seem to do anything right.