Chapter 5

NATALIE'S POV.

I fell asleep waiting for my husband to return home after I had finished eating dinner alone. When I awoke, I heard loud banging on the door.

As I rushed to unlock the door, Franklin was back, and accusing me of drugging him.

I thought he was joking, but he was dead serious. He started kissing me as he dropped me on the bed, even before I could register what he was doing.

Frank hadn't kissed me in the three years since we got married. He doesn't even acknowledge me as his wife. He only wants my food because he says he doesn’t like eating other people’s cooking—they don’t cook well and usually skimp on ingredients. So he mostly returns home to eat what I have made for him.

"Frank, stop!" I tried to resist him, breathing heavily.

I should have been excited that my husband was finally making love to me, but I knew that Frank wasn’t in his right frame of mind. I sensed that maybe Amelia had drugged him, and now Frank was home accusing me of being the one who had done it.

Frank removed my gown in a flash and continued kissing me. I should have left him when I had the chance. Frank’s parents don’t like me; his mother even calls me a prostitute in public and says I’m not fit to be her daughter-in-law.

None of Frank’s two siblings relate to me, as they disapprove of my presence at their gatherings.

The only person who is kind to me is Frank’s best friend, Michael Austin. He’s the only one who smiles at me and happily eats my food whenever he comes to see Frank and me on weekends, like Saturdays and Sundays.

But Frank doesn’t like it and has warned his friend to stop pretending that I know how to cook.

Each time, I try to improve my cooking skills so that Frank will love me and thank me. But he never does. He only reminds me that he was the one who provided the money to prepare the food and that he doesn’t owe me any gratitude for cooking ingredients that he paid for.

Frank is mean to me, but I keep enduring it because I don’t want to be labeled a prostitute or a woman who couldn’t stay in her marriage—the same label my biological mother bore. I had seen my mother after I got married to Frank. she came asking me for money, saying that since my husband was rich, it was only right that I took care of her.

I couldn’t believe my mother would say that to me. But I tried to explain to her that Frank doesn’t give me money for anything.

She advised me to report him to human rights, saying that he was my husband and had to take care of me and give me money to take care of my family. But I told her that Frank and I weren’t equals, that we weren’t born the same day, and that our marriage wasn’t built on love.

After I told her how Amelia had set me up, she wasn’t happy and advised me to leave Frank, saying I was pretty enough to win any serious bachelor to marry me. But I didn’t want to leave Franklin. He is my husband. And even as he glared at me at the altar of God, not wanting to say "I do," I happily told him, "I do."

I love Franklin after our marriage and wanted to be his wife, but he doesn’t trust me and believes that I was the one who drugged him.

Frank didn’t go easy on me tonight. He pounded me so hard on the bed, thrusting his hips against mine and moaning. I didn’t try to stop him. I allowed him to torture me all through the night until he got his relief and collapsed, sleeping on the bed next to me.

My entire body was sore and aching from the impact of how Frank handled me. I carefully crawled out of bed, as it had been a long time since Frank and I did it. I couldn’t remember that night either, because of the drug Amelia gave us. But tonight was different; I remember everything clearly, and I know Frank wouldn’t remember.

What was Amelia's goal? She wanted my husband to sleep with her. Why couldn’t she be patient and maybe wait until Frank and I got divorced before drugging him?

She drugged him and left me to suffer the consequences of her actions.

I have always suffered the consequences of Amelia’s actions, and I knew this wouldn’t be any different.

As I picked up my phone from the shelf, managing to stand up on my feet. I saw that it was already midnight.

Frank got back home by 10 p.m., and now it was midnight. He lasted two hours nonstop, making love to me.

I wanted to message Amelia, but I was enraged, so I called her instead.

"Amelia, what did you do to my husband?" I asked me, my voice loud and filled with anger. .

"What nonsense are you talking about, Natalie?! You shameless woman and bastard! What did you do to Frank?" Amelia yelled at me.

"Hmm, don’t pretend like you didn’t know. Frank went out with you tonight, and now he came home drunk and acting under the influence of whatever you gave him. Don’t think Frank won’t find out about this. I will have you arrested tomorrow!" I shouted, and she laughed.

"If there’s anyone who should be arrested, it’s you, Natalie, who drugged Frank. You know what you did to him before I came to your house. So stop asking me nonsense!" Amelia yelled and ended the phone call or me, making my brows furrowed.

I knew Frank would accuse me of drugging him once he awoke the next morning, and I feared what his anger would lead to. Frank doesn’t beat me, but he slapped me just because I refused to let Amelia eat my food.

He showed his angry side to me for the first time since our three years of marriage, something that had never happened before.

I blinked my tears away and went into the bathroom to wash myself.

My body ached. Although I loved the way Frank was hot in bed, I wouldn't say I enjoyed it. If only he had done it with a clear mind and not under the influence of whatever Amelia had given him.

As I was exhausted, I finished with my bath and walked out of the bathroom. I went into the closet, grabbed a crisp white nightgown and donned it. Then I got into bed to sleep.

This bedroom was mine, as Frank doesn’t assign me any specific room in the house. He said the room was his, and I was only temporarily using it until he asked me to leave his house.

We share the closet, but Frank hasn’t mistakenly slept with me.

He sometimes uses the other furnished rooms whenever he wants to avoid me, but most times, I lie to him that I can’t sleep alone, just to crawl into the same bed as him.

I lay on the bed and fell asleep as I was already exhausted.

The following morning, I awoke, and Frank was still sleeping in bed. I touched his face to see if he was alright. His head was hot, and so was his body.

"What did Amelia give to my husband?" I wondered, knowing that if anything went wrong with Frank, I would be in serious trouble. But I couldn’t leave him at this point.

As I went to bring water to wipe his forehead, I took care of him, but Frank wasn’t waking up.

Afraid, I laid my head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat, and he wasn't breathing well.

"My goodness!" I rushed out of our room to call the family doctor and to know if I should take Frank to the hospital or not.